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Gregg and
everyone:
Below is a cult apologist (Erika Andersen) view
of why one needs a Master, particularly Maharaji.
This used to be on her 'Please Consider This'
website until it bit the dust. If you can once
again endure Erika's simplistic, painful, metaphors
(this one was SO bad that she asked permission),
this is her explanation for why Maharaji is such a
great teacher/master.
Care to Comment?
Who Needs A Teacher??
A number of Maharaji's critics, I find, don't
have a problem with Knowledge itself; many of them
note that they still practice it and derive benefit
from doing so. Their problem, they say, is with the
way Maharaji has 'brainwashed' his students into
thinking that he has anything to do with the
process. They encourage his students to free
themselves from their 'dependence' on him, claiming
that they don't need him in order to experience
Knowledge.
Permit me a metaphor, if you will. Let's say
you have always wanted to sing, but don't know if
you can. Then you meet a master vocal coach who
sees your potential and coaxes it out of you; she
teaches you the basics of vocal production and
shows you that you actually have a beautiful
voice.
What would you do then? Say thanks after that
first, revelatory lesson and be on your way? Or
would you choose to study with her for as long as
she cared to teach you taking advantage of her
mastery in order to learn how to use your
gift?
Your decision would depend, in large part, on
how much you valued your ability to sing, and how
much you wanted to develop your talent. If you just
wanted to sing in the shower, you probably wouldn't
see much benefit in having a teacher. But if you
really wanted to take full advantage of your
natural talent to become an excellent singer you
probably would jump at the chance to learn from
that teacher.
Your decision, of course, would also depend
on whether or not you trusted the teacher. If you
believed she had just somehow stumbled into showing
you your gift, but was incapable of developing it
in you, odds are you wouldn't want to continue the
student/teacher relationship with her.
Ultimately, your decision about whether to
work with the teacher would depend on whether or
not you wanted to be a student. Some people, I
know, want to achieve their goals on their own,
without help from anyone else. For these people,
receiving guidance from a teacher feels
unnecessary, disempowering, or overly
constraining.
Let's say, though, that you do want to
improve your singing, you do trust the teacher, and
you do feel comfortable being in the role of
student. What, then, can a good teacher
offer?
Part of my work as a management consultant
involves helping people learn. In this capacity,
I've seen that learning to do something new
involves cycling through the following phases: 1)
Awareness; 2) Motivation; 3) Skills; and 4) New
Behaviors. And it's not just a one-time cycle.
Ongoing learning is an ever-deepening spiral of
these four phases. A really great teacher helps you
keep moving through these phases as deeply as you
want to go.
Staying with our singing metaphor, here's
what those four phases of learning might look like.
Once your natural gift has been uncovered, your
teacher helps keep you aware of that gift. She
reminds you what you're capable of, so the
awareness of your potential doesn't get lost in the
day-to-day, and so you don't lose heart. Next, she
sparks your motivation by reminding you how
wonderful it feels to sing, having you listen to
beautiful singing (perhaps her own singing), or
showing you how your effort is paying off by
pointing out improvements. Then, she offers new
skills: tips, guidelines, tools and support for
developing your abilities. Finally, she provides
low-risk opportunities in the learning environment
to practice these new behaviors, to make sure
they're firmly established.
And the next lesson? The same but deeper:
your new behaviors will have yielded a heightened
awareness and motivation, upon which your teacher
will help you build by offering additional skills,
producing more new behaviors that is, even more
beautiful singing. And so on. That's why people who
sing at the Met still have vocal coaches: they
recognize that the process of learning if you have
a capable teacher is infinite.
So my response to those who say I don't need
Maharaji is this: you're right. In the very
strictest sense of the word, I don't 'need' him.
I've already been shown the gift of Knowledge, and
theoretically I could continue, on my own, to
practice it for the rest of my life. That, however,
seems to me a less sure and more difficult road to
follow. As in our singing example, I do want to
take full advantage of the gift, I do trust
Maharaji to help me, and I am willing to be a
student. I want to explore as deeply as possible
the beauty I've been shown, and I feel confident
that continuing to embrace Maharaji as my teacher
will help me do that far better than I could on my
own.
For almost thirty years, Maharaji has
consistently reminded me that joy exists within me
(awareness); inspired me to take advantage of it
(motivation); provided tools, guidelines and tips
for practicing (skills); and offered focused
opportunities to try them out (new behaviors). He
is, in my experience, a master teacher the best
teacher by far, of any kind, I've ever had.
And then there is another, equally important
reason that I am Maharaji's student, one more
subtle yet equally powerful. Beyond the logic (I
want to learn, he wants to teach, I trust him to do
so), there is the relationship that has grown
between us over the years. When someone really
helps you, in any way, the natural impulse is to
feel grateful. Gratitude, freely offered, is a
delight to both giver and receiver: I feel enormous
gratitude to Maharaji. And when two people work
together as student and teacher, especially over a
long period of time, a deep affection and
appreciation develops in each for the other. My
relationship with Maharaji, and the joy and
satisfaction it brings, has become for me an
intrinsic part of the process of Knowledge.
In the final analysis, whether or not I
'need' Maharaji in some absolute sense is
irrelevant to me. Because I value the gift he
showed me, because I trust him to teach, because I
am willing to learn and because of the love I have
for him and he for me. I continue to accept his
offer to be my teacher. From my point of view, my
decision has paid tremendous dividends: I've found
his help, and his presence in my life,
inexpressibly valuable.
Erika Andersen
October 07, 2001
What is missing from this picture? Right, what
does M have to do with it, besides 'reminding' her,
I guess, to breathe?
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