I did service for the instructors' training in Malibu sometimes in the late 70's early 80's. I was their support person, making sure they got fed and taken care of as they went through their 'training,' which consisted of hours of satsang all day, occasional visits to the Res. to get patronized by the 'family,' and then evening satsang, the highlight of which would be the attendance of Claudia, or someone who lived close to MJ.

I was allowed to sit in on the evening satsang because I was the instructors' support person. I was able to do this service because I was considered a 'wealthy premie' through my husband (this was a bit exaggerated, but got my hubby and I good seats). Anyway, the group of initiators-to-be that I was mothering were mostly women, and serious shopaholics. They kept asking me to take them shopping, and they were incredibly sweet to me (more than to many other people) and it took me a while to catch on that they wanted me to subsidize their wardrobes. In fact, it wasn't until we were actually IN the fancy stores that I realized that they didn't have money of their own. Looking back, I can't remember how far I went for it. I know I bought them some stuff, but I felt incredibly manipulated. I mean, this wasn't basic nice clothing, but real super-designer stuff.

And I also felt, and feel, a lot of compassion for them. They were like trapped animals. Not allowed to have sex or sexual interest ever again, yet they were a sexy bunch. There was all kinds of food obsession and of course shopping is the new sex (I just read that somewhere). So I can understand their desperation. Having reached the pinnacle of their world (I mean, I always wanted to be an initiator, and felt bad that I had married and blown my chances, because I thought it was the closest place to MJ) they were actually miserable, deep inside. They have all left and married now, although I think some of them are still premies. One is strung out on drugs.

In retrospect I'm so glad that I never got back into the ashram/instructor system after leaving in 1976. Although I felt torn, and that I had blown it, at least I didn't suffer the extreme deprivation on all levels that many of my friends went through in trying to sincerely dedicate their lives. Somehow, for me, my ashram life in the early years, much of which was in Spain and South America, was mostly fun. But the later years the ashram scene really looked like a hell-realm.

From Jim

Now, for those of you who were around then, I ask you, wasn't this whole Instructor Training Program one of the weirdest things you ever heard of? This was the ear of marathon satsangs. We'd all whimpered back into the doghouse after Maharaji reminded us, through our National Co-ordinators, at Essen, Germany in late '76 that devotion was the ticket. The '19 day programs' soon followed which, you'll recall, were overt challenges Maharaji mounted against our budding confidence and independence (if those words ever apply in a cult setting). He specifically said that he wanted to string all these programs together to help us show our minds who was really boss. If it meant that we lost jobs, even careers, in the process, well, good premies weren't supposed to care about that, right? We had a lot of catching up to do.

So, yeah, we had all these programs, culminating later that year in Rome. The devotional gunk was now laced wtih poisonous guilt and self-flagellation as we'd all bit the apple a bit, according to Maharaji. We'd all peeked a bit too much at the world. That had to stop. So Maharaji just flooded us with self-esteem crushing prayers, ugly models of self-hatred for us to adopt. 'Oh my Guru Maharaji, you're great, I suck. I don't even have the right to call your name, yet I have to. These fucking vultures....'

And to make matters worse, the pressure was now on for everyone to move into the ashram if they were 'serious' about this whole thing, serious about learning devotion and for ashram premies to apply to be Initiators because, hell, there was no getting out any way anyway.

It was in this climate that Maharaji started these interminable brain-washing programs called Initiator Training. This is the stuff Katie's talking about. These bizarre black holes scared the hell out of me. The idea of sitting together daily for literally months, sometimes, and doing nothing but talking about how great Maharaji is and you're not, well that was freaky. And, like I say, these groups sometimes kept going for months before Maharaji decided he'd fried them enough and could finally 'trust' them.

I guess I'm just asking if anyone else ever got a good, close-up view of this bizarre chapter in the cult's history. I know that the effect bled over into all the communities as we started thinking it was normal to spend our every waking moment sitting around repeating ourselves. But I'd love to hear more what it was like for the participants if anyone knows.

From Pat Conlon

Anyone in Bay Area remember retreat in Kentfield in 1980. It rained for three days. There was group meditation then satsang ALL day in one room for the regular guys and another special satsang in another room for those of us who wanted to move into the ashram. Thank god I had cooking service to do and could sneak out early to get the meals ready.

Chuck was an aspirant and was not allowed to sleep with the premies. I went to the ashram satsang religiously thinking that the only way to completely surrender was to give Chuck up and join ashram. My mind got fried.

This was not the first ashram brainwashing retreat that I attended but it was the last. These all day satsangs were nightmares for me. I went back to smoking and would sneak out for a fag.

Mind you the ''festivals'' in those days were bloody nightmares too. Joan Apter would rant and rave for two hours. Bands would play ''Rock me Maharaji'' ad nauseam. We'd sit there in Essen, Dusseldorf, Copenhagen, Rome and fry fry fry from 10 am till the lord arrived at nine pm then we'd all fry some more until it was all over and we went back to our beds feeling like zombies.

Anyone who was around at this time knows that, if you did not surrender completely and give your mind to Guru Goodbar, you were doomed to hell for ever. I lived in complete fear of doom for ten years because I was a bad premie. Giving money assuaged my guilt somewhat - when I had a job. No wonder I ended up with stress-related health problems which ate away my guts.

Funny how the modern PWKs don't remember this. Even funnier how Rawat does not either. Too weird how I forgot about it until Jim just brought it up. But of course it was all our fault for taking Rawat literally and not seeing that he had his tongue in his cheek or else it was the mahatmas' fault. Rev Feelgood is completely free of blame.