Pandora’s Box

Over the decades, reports of misconduct by our spiritual teacher, Yogi Bhajan, have spurred various responses. Some find the accusations unthinkable and traitorous. I have been one of them. Others minimize, ignore or compartmentalize the allegations. I’ve done this, too, but can’t do it anymore. Does this mean I must join those who have bolted or drifted away from identifying with his teachings?

Does the value I have found in practicing and sharing these teachings preclude acknowledging transgression? Does a terrible breach of trust prevent me from representing and sharing my experience of these teachings? I seek to be honest open and fearless about both. Accepting one does not require me to reject the other. The bias, or diagonal of a piece of cloth has more strength and stretch than the straight of the grain or the cross grain. Can I find a diagonal way that will have integrity and suppleness?

As a teenager I was deeply involved in Judaism as well as contemporary theology. I listened to tales of Hasidic Rebbes, explored the Desert Fathers, read Zen & the Art of Archery. I had a taste for mystical experience that my college Judaism group was not touching. Discovering Kundalini Yoga was amazing. I saw the prospect of serious spiritual exploration, supported by a like-minded community. My decision to identify with this community did not come lightly. It felt like a betrayal of my family’s agnostic legacy and of my intellectual credibility. I agonized for months. It was a great relief once I made the decision to follow my heart.

If Yogi Bhajan’s relationship to his large unmarried female staff, or lack of organizational transparency bothered me, I was willing to overlook it. I felt protective of our community against threats from disgruntled former members who went to the press or to the courts. Yet every few years someone I respected would leave. Some scandal or another would be alleged or hinted at. I would have to deal with it somehow. I accepted the fact that I could not be sure these claims were not true. In the face of charges I could not disprove I looked to my own motivation for embarking on and continuing with the practice. I trusted my own judgement and integrity. That bolstered my trust in the spiritual path I was on.

Thomas Merton helped me to frame the painful choices. In his Asian Journal he comes into the presence of huge Buddha statues and notes “The great smiles. Huge and yet subtle. Filled with every possibility, questioning nothing, knowing everything, rejecting nothing, the peace not of emotional resignation but of Madhyamika, of sunyata, that has seen through every question without trying to discredit anyone or anything — without refutation — without establishing some other argument.”

I’ve been able to stay on this path by examining and trusting the teachings, and by examining and trusting my own motives, values and conduct. I am continuing this examination. Each class I take or teach reinforces the value of the practice. Perhaps most of all it happens when I meet with my colleagues from around the world. Their service and dedication humble me.

Spiritual practice requires tremendous energy & commitment, which can be sapped by doubt. I understand the danger of slander. I can assess troubling assertions and still refuse to listen to them endlessly looping through my thoughts. Rumination is a dangerous detour if it detracts from my time or willingness to practice. When I practice I feel great--certain that I need to continue to practice and teach this art. But I also can’t maintain a double standard. I loved and revered my teacher, but I am angry at him and can’t excuse him for behavior that shocks me in other public figures. I’ve opened Pandora’s Box and I cannot ignore the contents. I have to deal with them for my own balance. I want to be responsible to those I influence. I do not wish to be found wanting when they open that box. What if they ask, “Did you know this? How could you conceal this from us?”

My love for my spiritual teacher and my awe of him motivated me, distracted me from my doubts and hesitations. But I really just borrowed this motivation and security from my future. Doubts and qualms returned again and again when my teacher’s behavior clashed with my image of a spiritual teacher. That loan enabled me to persevere until I had the inner strength and perspective to maintain devotion to my own practice. I was glad to have benefited from that loan until I recognized the cost to so many, including those who were very young and vulnerable.

Walking this path has been a continual process of encompassing more and more complexity. I see the amazing yogis who have practiced Yogi Bhajan’s teachings. I can evaluate his teachings and acknowledge that he violated my (and his stated) values. I engage with a dedicated cohort that is responding with courage and accountability to what has emerged from Pandora’s box. We are centering survivors. It is an honor to be in their company. I live to promote these teachings. I seek to be steady on my spiritual path, without denial, minimization or abandoning my community. [Edited 3/16/20]

Awtar KhalsaJanuary 30, 20205 Comments