14

Ellen Schector

Vraja Academy
Vrindavan

10th January 1981

Ellen was the girl at the typewriter when I arrived yesterday. She is to give the next Interview, but as she offers me tea she starts making conditions. I know it’s a matter of nerves; I am told not to ask her this or that, or rush her, to be patient, not to call her by her Sanskrit name, to promise to send her a copy of the transcript. What else can I do but agree?

We move out of the shade into the pale winter sunshine. Sri Pad Baba passes carrying an armful of office files. No, no, everything is fine — I assure him — we really are, finally, well almost, ready to start…

Interview 14

I grew up in a family of Jewish atheists with strong humanistic values. The primary target of family jokes was God and religion. All this was in Chicago where I was born 31 years ago. I don’t trace my connection to India far back; it was more after LSD that I began to have longings beyond America and American life.

How old were you when you started LSD?
About 19. I tried it seven or eight times, had some profound experiences and some devastating ones — panic, extreme panic. The first two trips were nice and I wanted to have a repeat, but being immature, my ability to continue stopped quickly. I kind of used up all the positive effects I could get from the drug and moved into the negative aspect: anxiety and panic. But I had a connection to something more important than I had experienced up to then.

I had no idea what to do with my life or how to get to that level of consciousness I had tasted. I didn’t know if anyone else was having this experience or not or if one was supposed to talk about it. I continued taking the drug as I was eager to reconnect to the positive aspect of it but had more bad experiences. It came to the point when I had to accept that my survival depended on not taking any more. I tried getting back to that high with grass, but I easily flipped back into the negative state: Oh, my God! — I’m here again and I’ve always been here. The word flashed through my mind: Insanity — this is it! Although I was in a vulnerable state, I got back into college, studied, did some service with kids who were wards of the State and some work with old people.

A lot of my friends were moving into the country, building their own houses. I visited a friend and had the sensation of being in touch with myself; it was so quiet in the country I became aware of an inner dialogue. This was a turning point for me. I bought some land, and knowing that I would have to work making a garden, took to yoga to strengthen my back. At the end of the yoga class there was ten minutes meditation.

Where was this?
California. Very quickly I realized what was happening in those few minutes meditation. I responded. I was changing rapidly. I began reading Ram Dass: Be Here Now. The Only Dance There Is, and living a quiet life. What I began hearing in all the books — the thing significant to me — was that to take on this life one needs a teacher. I had bought the land but I knew I had to find a teacher and re-establish the knowledge I had experienced under LSD. I just knew I could get it through meditation. I found an Ashram I could move into, and for six or seven hours a day I was involved in meditation, yoga, chanting and sitting in silence with my guru.

Where was all this?
San Raphael, across the Golden Gate from San Francisco. Now I should tell you that from the age of 16 until I was 19 I had a tremendously difficult period of emotional turmoil which led at the age of 18 to spending time in a mental hospital. That’s where I was introduced to drugs and did my tripping. The key feature of the turmoil I had as an adolescent was compulsiveness coming out in eating. I could put on 30 lbs in two months, and I did it many times. I went up and down punishing myself continuously and creating pain for myself. The whole trip of living in the country with peaceful people was a kind of benevolent way for me to live, and everything was coming together.

However, when I moved into the Ashram, the turmoil came back intensely, and was so unexpected — I never thought I would have to face that again. I had enough perspective to know it was a cleansing process. Every vulnerability within me was having to come out through meditation…to become strong one has to face every weakness. So in a way I was able to withstand it.

There was a song Ram Dass popularized: Rejoice in the Lord Always. I remember one night walking the streets singing this song, saying to myself: Rejoice always, not when you are happy but when you have to accept painful things…recognize it, tolerate it. I was crying, but I kept on singing. Twice I packed my things with the intention of leaving the Ashram — not that I had anywhere to go, but I knew I had to get out. I had reached my limit. But then something worse would happen, and I would stay. Things would ease up. Then the stress would come on again because the compulsion returned, and I was eating and eating and eating, gaining weight. I kept saying: I don’t want to get fat again, I can’t face it…that nightmare is over!

The critical point came when I learned my brother was to get married. I was so happy; there was no question, I would go to the wedding. But here I was getting fatter and fatter, and I couldn’t face being with the whole family obese. I couldn’t go, yet I couldn’t not go either. The pressure was building — I didn’t know what to do. Finally, I addressed myself to God: Whatever You want to make me go through, I’ll go through. It was a release…not that I stopped being compulsive. But I accepted the fact that I was going to be fat.

And I got fatter and fatter, fatter than I had ever been. I was very unhappy — that was the surface, the emotional state. I cringed if my friends wanted to be affectionate or to touch me. I couldn’t talk about my condition. But underneath all this I had a connection with myself, and the discomfort was surface: that gave me the ability to survive. If the inner connection would not have been there I know I would never have survived.

Living in that Ashram was nice but not fulfilling. After two years I was able to leave. I had wanted to come to India, so now I took a job, worked seven days a week to save enough money. Within a year and a half I bought the ticket and came.

What did you have in mind?
I was being pulled here; I knew I would get guidance; I knew I would meet people with spiritual awareness. I had read books by Ramakrishna Paramahansa, Ramana Maharshi, Yogananda, and I knew this culture was producing beings like that. Now I am here — it’s getting close to two years — it’s like the fulfillment of a dream.

Did you have any plan when you arrived?
A friend told me of a man who had walked round the world for the International Peace Movement — from Delhi to Moscow to Paris to London to New York. His story interested me. I went to Bangalore to see him. He invited me to travel with him, and we went to Vinoba Bhave’s Ashram. I was living a regulated life just eating Ashram food — whatever was served. Up till leaving America I was as compulsive as ever…

What sort of weight were you?
When I came I was about 175 lbs (79 kg)…

And now?
I range between 125 and 130, but I may go up to 133 — no more — I’m just not gaining weight. A compulsive fat person never believes she is ever going to be thin, and although I had seen some of my friends go to India fat but come back thin, I never thought I would ever be out of the nightmare. At Vinoba’s Ashram I was up to 185 lbs; then I became ill with tonscilitia with a fever of 105. They thought I wouldn’t get through; I decided not to take medicine, no antibiotics, no matter what. The time came when I said to the doctor: If I’m going to die you better tell me — I’m not afraid — I would like to write to my parents…He assured me I wouldn’t die, but I never believed him — I was burning! The fever broke, I spent weeks fasting but I still wouldn’t take medicines. They told me I was getting thin, but an Indian’s conception of thin is different from mine. Six weeks later I got out of bed — I knew I had lost weight — the scales said: 125 lbs! My goal had never been more then 135: I was joyful. I left the Ashram and decided I would have fun: I bought ordinary clothes — shirts and jeans — things I had never been able to wear as an adult. I knew this happiness was superficial, but for a month I let myself enjoy thinness.

But with all this new-found bliss, did you stop looking for the inner bliss?
For that whole month I was euphoric. Then I went to Bombay to hear Krishnamurti. The whole guru fantasy — the reason for coming to India — was suddenly shattered. Every conception I had about spiritual life had to be given up. Everything was taken away, and nothing was left. For some time I recognized this new turmoil was needed for growth and that something good was happening. So I spent some time in Goa trying to disconnect from everything. I put myself in a room, not reading, doing sadhana, and faced the stress of sensory deprivation. In a short time there was much growth.

But I started to long for the Himalayas. So I spent a month at Badrinath(1) and ran into someone who had a new book by Ram Dass on Neem Karoli Baba(2). I read it; it was a mind-altering experience. I felt a strong pull towards Neem Karoli Baba. This helped me counter the Krishnamurti concept of the guru-disciple relaltionship being void. I had no doubt how high a guru can be, so then I wanted to get close to Maharaj. This is why I came to Vrindavan — his samadhi is here.

But as Neem Karoli Baba left the body years ago, do you not feel the need for a living teacher?
My feeling about him is that his living in the physical body or not doesn’t matter for a relationship with him. I also know it’s possible to still have his darshan, although he’s left the body.

So India has proved to be a tremendous experience for you.
After only being here for a few months, I was given the gift of thinness. No one who hasn’t lived through a compulsive eating nightmare can understand what that means — the sense of freedom when it passes. People say anything can happen in India: we have all read about the miracles — well — that was a miracle, and it happened in my life.

Now that you are stable, do you still watch your diet?
I eat whatever I want. There’s no stress, so there’s no compulsion; there’s no extra weight. In the past I could gain 30 lbs in six weeks. At the most now, if I go through a slight strain period, I can gain 3 lbs — no more. I know there’s some force controlling things — it’s not subject to reason or logic.

As a final question can you tell me how you come to be staying at Sri Pad Baba’s Academy?
I have been here twelve days — it’s a new experience for me. I had been at the Neem Karoli Guest House near the Ashram, but the limitation period of seven days was up. I wanted to learn Hindi, so I was directed here and spoke to Sri Padji. He told me I could stay here, eat here, study Hindi — no charges — but what was really nice was as he knew of my connection with Maharaji, he asked me if had I read Miracle of Love?(3)

That was like a light flashing on, for that’s why I came to Vrindavan; and here was this other guru talking about it. Sri Padji told me someone had read parts of this book to him; he spoke warmly of it, then said: You can stay here if you want, or I can speak to the people running the guest house so that you can stay on there. That was the second light flashing on — he was giving respect to my relationship to Maharaj. He was saying: I’ll give you everything I have here, but if you want to stay there, I can arrange it. I moved here next day, started my Hindi, started doing some typing for the Academy, started to get to know Sri Pad Baba, and I would say that he is the first person I have met in India who fulfills my idea of the kind of teacher I wanted to learn from.

There have been so many turning points since I arrived in India, but now I am thinking: O.K. I’m here. It’s happened. This is what I came for.

Ellen is happy with the way the Interview went — she says she trusts me, there’s no need to send her a copy of the transcript. I can’t help thinking that if everyone is going to make such conditions I will have to get a secretary.

Radha Dasi has made me supper and we are waiting for Asim; he’s late, so she talks, not too freely but — well — perhaps she might let me press the magic button, but no. Isim is now so late we accept the fact that he is detained somewhere. Radha Dasi I see is firm… she is not moved to change her mind. She says:

Why not stay on an extra day and catch Asim tomorrow?

Good suggestion. I

I explain that I must catch the morning train to Agra as a friend has promised to meet me at the station so that I can stay with the family...and I do not have his address, so I really must be there.

I say goodnight and go up to my room. Vrindavan has an atmosphere of its own, but I am leaving with only three Interviews instead of the predicted four.

I set off in the morning never-the-less with a promise. When I tell Sri Padji he should verify or deny the many stories that are growing up around his extraordinary life, he replies: What I have to tell cannot be said in one hour — you will have to come back to Vrindavan again to hear all that.

Yes, God willing, that will be something worth going back for.

Sri Pad Baba

The silent Radheshwari