Hippies, Freaks and a Boy Guru

I first heard about Prem Rawat (Maharaji) and the topic of inner peace, many years ago and I could not have been less iinterested. People were swooning over the boy, saying he could show me how to go within and other, in my view, very useless and conceptual ideas.

It didn’t resonate with me at all. I assumed it was something to do with spirituality, which was not on my to-do list and still isn’t.

So how did I end up here, years later, learning from this man, calling him a friend, feeling gratitude for what he does and what he showed me?

Dateline: 1972: My boyfriend at the time was very enthused after hearing from a friend about this child from India people were raving about. I sure didn’t want to lose my main man to a trip, as I saw it. I figured I’d better get on board. This was, for me, a very pragmatic decision:

Lose the boyfriend or check out the boy guru? No brainer. Where do I sign?

Grudgingly, I went to listen to the true believers tell me what the Guru was all about. I attended local presentations because at that time there were no videos to watch, certainly no internet. Maharaji was so very young and not traveling much, so I didn’t hear him speak in person then. I was forced, instead, to listen to the amateurs. and I was not at all impressed. A bunch of peace-love flower children…hippies, in my view.

If you were around in those days there was a fine distinction between Hippies and Freaks. I considered myself among the latter and proud of it.

Hippies were the beads and flowers crowd; girls in long dresses, dancing around in fields; guys who said things like “Groovy, man” and smiled way too much.

I, on the other hand, was a bonafide Freak.

Freaks were militant, more angry. We were the politicos who yes, took the drugs, but afterward, you’d never catch us in whirling dervish mode, planting gardens or swimming naked at Woodstock.

Freaks were pissed, urban and not all that happy no matter how high we got.

We left the dancing to James Brown.

To me, the folks doing the Guru thing were just not my type, especially the flower-power females.

My usual attire was a tight leather jacket, even tighter jeans, black boots and anything else that made me look like a bad ass. With frizzed out hair as wild as I could get it and a cigarette rarely far from my lips, the only thing missing was a grenade to blast some empty military recruiting center. (After hours of course)

In reality I was scared as hell and had no clue what “peace” meant even though I got in people’s faces about it all the time, as in “End the War!”

My fears and anxieties, my lack of clear direction and especially my overwhelming need for love always lurked behind the leather and the language.

So I kept coming back to listen about the boy teacher and his message. I started to become sincere about what was being discussed. As goofy as it all appeared on the surface, there was something about Maharaji and his case for fulfillment that I found deeply compelling.

I was there to mock it, prove he was a fake, confirm this as a silly trend, nothing to worry about in the long run. I wanted to convince myself of that…but it wasn’t working.

Despite my reservations, a sense of hunger to understand grew stronger as time went by. I hated that feeling in some ways, but it was undeniable. Part of me wanted to run, but I didn’t. It all started to become, something much more than just being afraid the “love of my life” would leave me if I wasn’t interested. Now, I wanted to know what was in it for me.

That’s the place I think we need to be in this life: “What’s in it for me?” What better question to ask? I’m here, I’m alive. May as well find out what’s available in all that, mm?

If, as they say life is a gift, why not open it entirely? Why ignore the thirst that cries to be satisfied, just because a possible way to quench that may not fit my expectations or my beliefs?

In the end, what tipped the scales was realizing that Maharaji was talking about something really, really simple - just being really happy, at peace with myself; knowing who I really was, from the deepest place, and how beautiful it would be to experience and understand that.

It was really way too simple, but when it finally did sink in, I could relate to it. It felt real and I had a powerful sense that this guy really could show me how to get to discover some amazing stuff in my life.

I wanted it. I wanted what was behind his words. I loved that he said he could “back up” his claim.

I also began to understand that I needed a way to access those things that were already in me. I guess I always knew they were there. Maharaji just gave me the tools to do prove it and he guaranteed they would work. No strings attached, no bull…just a gift, from someone who has the ability to give it.

The boyfriend? Long gone. Maybe he doesn’t know how grateful I am for the part he played in helping me feel what I do in my life today. If he’s reading this all I can say is:

“Groovy man. Thanks very much.”