Take Me for a Ride Part 12

In the meantime, without a clue, I studied literature, worked part-time, read Guru's books, meditated one-and-a-half hours a day, tried to see, organized poster teams, attended Atmananda's talks, and immersed myself each day in water over my head.

I felt so good about my life and the community I was helping to build that it seemed like I was living in paradise.

7. Money Mantra

Arriving carless in California, Atmananda thought about continuing his career as a college professor. He thought about writing another book.

He even considered going to law school. Instead, he expanded the Money Club.

The Money Club had started in New York when Atmananda began collecting from Stony Brook disciples. We voluntarily gave a few dollars a month to offset the cost of the posters.

In San Diego, he raised membership dues to four or so dollars a week. Rachel, who took out loans to help the San Diego Chinmoy Centre get started, gave much more. As The Centre rapidly grew, so did the numbers in Atmananda's club.

"Seekers used to live in monasteries and in caves," Atmananda taught at Centre meetings. "But Guru recommends that instead, we live in a city.

This gives us the opportunity to strengthen our psychic defenses and to better serve humanity. In order to live in the world, particularly as your consciousness evolves and as the vibrations of the world grow darker, you will need money."

Most of the new disciples, though, were UCSD undergraduates; when Atmananda explained the etiquette of selfless giving--"You can give in the right way or you can give in the wrong way"-- many of us wondered how we could give in any way.

But Atmananda had an idea. He suggested that we take out student loans for more than we actually needed.

"You can then donate the extra amount to a worthy cause," he pointed out.

"To a genuine spiritual centre, for instance."

It was no coincidence that the Centre's finances improved significantly after banks issued checks for guaranteed student loans.

Atmananda had another idea.

"Accepting money from your parents is the spiritual thing to do.

Why not give your parents the opportunity to help? Why shouldn't they be given the opportunity to make spiritual progress?"

He even devised a way that we could earn money.

"Why work for five dollars an hour when you could be making twenty?

Work is not supposed to be fun. Believe me, they would not be paying you if it was. Unless you already have a career that you are happy with, you should study computer science.

"Most of you developed software back in Atlantis, back when computers were far more advanced than they are today. Keeping track of all those variables will help you strengthen your mind. Besides, programming pays extremely well after a relatively short period of time."

Atmananda interspersed talk of raising consciousness and money with stories from the rich world of his imagination. He told stories, for instance, about a legendary character that he called "The Gwid."

"The Gwid is close friends with Roshi Megabucks," he said, stroking his chin and smiling. "The Gwid leases all of reality to G.o.d."

At one Centre meeting, a UCSD anthropology graduate student pointed out that millions in the world were starving. "Shouldn't we be doing something to help?" she asked.

"On the surface," Atmananda replied, "Elizabeth is asking a perfectly legitimate question. But if you could see, you would have detected the underlying hostility in her tone."

The room filled with uneasy silence.

"But that is why we study meditation," he went on. "We are constantly striving to perfect our different selves."

He slowly scanned the disciples. "Many of you send Guru hostile vibrations in the inner worlds, so don't hide behind your holier-than-thou facade. It isn't necessary. We understand."

He turned back to Elizabeth, his sarcastic pout transforming into a compa.s.sionate smile. "There are many who are suited for helping the poor. What we do here is help people on a higher level."

He went on to provide a framework through which to view poverty.

Each soul, he explained, chooses the circ.u.mstance of its birth so that it can best work out its karma.

At first, Elizabeth's question struck a chord in me.

But I a.s.sociated her question with Atmananda's accusation-- that many of us were sending hostile vibes to Guru.

This made me upset, so I tried to think about something else.

But there was something else I was trying not to think about.

"Has anyone noticed that I have been going into advanced states of consciousness?" Atmananda had started to ask at the Centre meetings.

At first there had been no response.

"The powers from my past lives are returning," he continued in a sincere-sounding voice. "My consciousness is cycling.

Those of you who can see will easily feel The Change."

Several disciples nodded, as though for the first time they were feeling The Change.

I knew that if I gazed at him intensely for several minutes, I saw auras in whichever hue I imagined. Nonetheless, I had not detected The Change.

I wanted to maintain complete trust in my mentor, housemate, and friend.

I told myself that my seeing abilities must not be too advanced.

Atmananda then changed the subject. "The Golden Gwid Card,"

he said with a grin, "gives The Gwid and Roshi Megabucks unlimited access to multi-dimensional, trans-reality banking networks."

Perhaps it was with The Golden Gwid Card in mind that Atmananda asked me to perform a "task of power." He instructed me to inspire each of the several dozen disciples in the Centre to donate money.

"Tell them that the money will be used to buy me a surprise gift, and tell them the gift will be a new car." He suggested that I remind them that he worked night and day for the good of others, that he was broke because he gave all his money to the Centre, and that if he concentrated on making money rather than on helping Guru's mission, he could easily afford to buy his own car.

"Got it," I said.

"Don't pressure anyone. If someone does not want to contribute, that's fine."

"Of course!"

"And keep a list of who gave what."

"No pro-blem-mo!" Honored that Atmananda would trust me with such responsibility, with such a secret, and with so much money, I felt guilty for not having thought of the idea myself.

I understood that Atmananda was being a sneak. But he did work for the good of others night and day. And ours was the fastest growing Chinmoy Centre in the world. And the Guru's mission would suffer if Atmananda worked a traditional job. Besides, I was drawn to the idea of sneaking for a n.o.ble cause.

The disciples gave generously, and Atmananda soon shifted the garage door opener from Rachel's car, which he had frequently borrowed, to the glove compartment of his shiny, new Renault LeCar.

Rachel, who had donated generously to the "surprise" gift, felt that they should share the garage door opener. She decided that Atmananda was being unfair and told him so.

The next day, Atmananda instructed Dana to tell Rachel that, spiritually speaking, she was heading for some serious hot water and had better apologize quickly.

Unaware of the "Garage Door Opener Incident," I was feeling pretty good.