Hippies, Freaks and Inner Peace

I first heard about the topic of inner peace, many years ago and could not have been less interested. I heard people talking about Prem Rawat, also called Maharaji, and that he could show me how to go within and other, in my view, 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,years later, learning from this man, calling him a friend, feeling gratitude for what he does and what he gave me?

Dateline: 1972: My boyfriend at the time was very enthused after hearing from a friend about this young boy 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 a very pragmatic decision on my part. Lose the boyfriend or check out the boy guru? No-brainer. Where do I sign?

Grudgingly, I went along to listen to the true believers tell me what the Guru was all about. I attended local presentations. At that time there were no videos to watch, Maharaji was very young and not traveling in my area, so I didn't hear him speak in person then. My only option? Listen to the amateurs.

I was not at all impressed by the people involved with him. A bunch of peace-love flower children…Hippies, in my view. If you were around in those days, early 70’s, there was a fine distinction between Hippies and Freaks. I considered myself one of the latter. Hippies were the beads and garland 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, considered myself a Freak, and proud to be one!

Freaks were militant, more angry. We were the politicos who yes, took the drugs, but never did the whirling dervish dance, hiked the mountains or swam 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 females. My usual attire was a tight leather jacket, jeans, black boots and anything else that made me look like a bad ass. With my 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 blow up the local recruiting center. (just the building, not the people in it!)

In reality I was scared as hell. My fears and anxieties, my lack of direction and especially my overwhelming need for love always lurked behind the leather.

I kept coming back to listen about this peace/love stuff and started to become curious about what was being discussed. As goofy as it all seemed, there was something about the kid, Maharaji, that I found compelling. I was there to mock and prove it all fake, a silly trend, nothing to worry about in the long run. I wanted to convince myself, but it wasn't working.

Despite my reservations, a thirst to understand grew stronger as time went by. I hated that feeling at first, but it was undeniable. Part of me wanted to run, but I didn’t. Now, it wasn’t about the love of my life leaving me for all this. 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. If, as they say life is a gift, why not open it entirely? Why ignore the thirst that cries to be satisfied, just because the possible way to quench that may not fit my expectations?

In the end, what tipped the scales was when I understood that Maharaji was talking about something really, really simple - being happy, making peace with myself; knowing who I was and how beautiful that might be. It was too simple, but when it finally sunk in, I could relate to it. It felt real and I had a powerful sense that this guy really could show me how to discover all those things for myself.

I wanted it.

I began to see that I needed a way to access and feel what used to be just concepts. I guess I always knew they were in me, somehow, somewhere. Maharaji gave me the tools to do prove that. He guaranteed it. 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 even know how grateful I am for the part he played in helping me hang in there. If he’s reading this all I can say is:

"Groovy man. Thanks very much."