Open Your Heart... But Get Your Damn Hands Off of Me
[content warning: unwanted touching, issues of race and gender, spiritual abuse]
As a long time meditator and meditation teacher I truly do believe in the power and importance of meditation retreats. But not at the expense of feeling safe.
I originally wrote this post as a “retreat review” where I gave the organizers of this event all of the accolades that they rightly deserve, and then also shared some of the bad. But you know what? I feel violated and upset about something that happened, and I believe that the event organizers’ lack of attention to safety, diversity, and culture made it worse. So I'm going to unburden myself from the emotional labor of trying to create a balance for someone else, and just be real about what’s on my mind.
There is a voice inside me telling me to keep quiet: You love Ram Dass! You know they worked hard and meant well! Important people won’t support your work now! But there is an even louder voice and this one says: Stand up for what’s right! Do it for people who can’t! Don’t let the mothercussers win! Help make the things you love better! So, I’m standing in the truth of my experience.
While there were things that happened that made me feel angry, upset, and unsafe, I am not sharing this out of anger. I am sharing it out of love and care and with the hope that what’s ahead can be better for all of us. I’ve done my best to write this as a critique and not criticism, and I hope it will be received that way. I care about spirituality and meditation in the modern world, and I believe that we should all think deeply about what we want it to be and who we want it to be available to–and to do the work to move in that direction.
Here’s what happened, some things I think contributed to it, and some ways I think we can all do better:
Ram Dass / Open Your Heart in Paradise Retreat
I recently made a commitment to myself to learn directly from some of our elder teachers before they die, and that is why I made the investment to attend the 13th annual “Open Your Heart in Paradise” retreat in Maui. I wanted to spend time learning directly from Ram Dass, and this is the main annual event of the Love Serve Remember Foundation, which is “dedicated to preserving and continuing the teachings of Neem Karoli Baba and Ram Dass” (Neem Karoli Baba was Ram Dass’ guru.) Typically I try to pay closer attention to the diversity of the teachers (more on this later), but in this case I was showing up for Ram Dass specifically, and so I let my radar slip. I regret that–even as I am glad I had a chance to sit with, and be blessed by, Ram Dass.
THE HANDSY CREEP
On the final night of the retreat one of the fellow attendees did something to me physically that made me very uncomfortable. (He was a white man; in my own personal experience, it has always been white men who do these things inside of retreat centers.) While Krishna Das was performing Kirtan (chanting and music), this attendee decided that even though there wasn’t really room for him, he wanted to sit right in front of me on the floor, where I was sitting on a small meditation cushion. So he pushed his way in. He was so uncomfortably close that the woman next to me asked if I wanted her to ask him to move (thank you to her for offering.)
This guy had weirdly been in my space several times over the retreat so I figured he would just get up and leave soon, as he had each time before. He didn’t, but at one point I tried to stretch my legs back out again, the way they had been before he pushed in. (Two hours on a meditation cushion requires some stretching.) He turned around and gestured to me to move, but when I didn’t move fast enough he physically picked my leg up and moved it. And then he rubbed it, all creepy like, and smirked at me. And then he want back to waving his hands in the air and chanting to Ram and Krishna.
So I… left and went back to my room. Because in this environment (explored below) I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I felt creeped out and violated and shut down and also like no one at the retreat would care. So this guy won. He decided he wanted my personal space, and he took it. And so I left, I walked back to my room on my scary ocean path and went to my room that didn’t have a secure lock (more about this below), and slept like shit all night and finally got up at 3 am and decided to write this. And right now as I type this I am listening to the chants of the closing ceremony on the beach which I didn’t go to because I didn’t want to see this guy again.
This is just one experience, and it’s pretty mild as far as retreat harassment goes, unfortunately. But I think it’s worth sharing. (And by the way: if anything like this has ever happened to you at a retreat: it’s not your fault and you are not alone.)
To understand why one creep doing one creepy thing was the proverbial straw for me, it will be helpful for you to understand some of the context in which it happened.
Context: Guru Culture
The focus of the retreat was a very guru-focused version of Hinduism, which I was not prepared for. Guru culture rubs me the wrong way, especially in light of the myriad of abuses that have come up in my own first lineage and many others–but I do understand and respect that for some people it is an important part of their practice. So while this reflects my own personal discomfort, it definitely shaped my experiences; it was implicit at the event that spiritual men would be forgiven for misbehaviors.
To wit: there was an entire panel of three women sharing stories of their own guru (the late Maharaj-ji, as Neem Karoli Baba is also known as.) Other speakers made jokes about him yelling, throwing things across the room, etc. It was all kind of light-hearted, like, ha ha crazy wisdom. But I don’t think a spiritual leader acting even a little bit violent, or like a bully, is funny–and frankly I don’t think it seems like very enlightened behavior. I was pretty bummed out that we finally had some women on stage and they were asked to tell stories about a man. (Eventually some of these women did share their own wisdom, I’m glad to report.) But all of what I describe here happened in the context of what seemed like people on stage forgiving a man for bad behavior, because he was also enlightened. (Which doesn’t add up to me, personally.) So it was made implicitly clear early on in the retreat that this was a place where we laugh off bad behavior of spiritual men (or this one man, at least.) And listen, I get that these things happened at a different time–but these stories were being told, and laughed at, in these times.
Context: No Code of Conduct
An event of this size, pedigree, and age should have a code of conduct, no exception. It’s a huge miss.
There were definitely rules, and they kind of cracked me up: don’t do hallucinogens, don’t burn sage, don’t smoke pot, don’t sell your jewelry from your hotel room, no really don’t smoke pot. But there was no code of conduct. We were sent 450+ words telling us not to save seats (we were sent that twice, actually) but not one word on expectations for how to treat others (except for general Aloha and Mahalo stuff) or anything on how to create a safe environment for others, or what to do if we felt uncomfortable or unsafe or wanted an ally or an advocate.
I would venture a guess that perhaps the assumption is made that these are good people who don’t need to be told how to behave? Except, bullsh*t, there is a whole lot of abuse in the spiritual world, and everyone, myself definitely included, can always use reminders and guidance. With no code of conduct, and no real guidelines for how to act respectfully towards other people, there was just this general spirit of like: we all mean well, we’re all good people, Aloha, Namaste, nothing to see here. Which, sure, I would love if that was true. But have you seen any news lately? Three (count ‘em! 1, 2, 3) men in leadership positions I have studied under in recent years have been forced to step down by their own boards. So no: we can’t just assume people will do the right thing. We never actually lived in that world, and to pretend we do now is choosing to willfully ignore reality as it is.
CONTEXT: wow, so white
(If you’re reading this and we don’t know each other yet: I’m white, so this is written from my perspective. Obviously everyone has their own POV and I can only share mine.)
The whitewashing of Eastern spirituality, yoga, and wellness is an enormous issue that is in no way limited to this retreat. However: as someone who is often bothered by how white things are in the meditation world, and who is actively working to change this, I was honestly a little shocked by how much more white this retreat was than others I go to. (I live in NYC, which influences my experiences.) You can see the board of directors of the foundation that put on the retreat here; all of the teachers that I saw at the retreat were white, too. I have to give props to Trudy Goodman, founder of InsightLA, who brought up the issue of diversity several times in stage; no one else I heard talking did. (InsightLA, by the way, just held the first ever residential retreat for the transgender community. She seems like a kindred spirit and I am grateful to her for holding that space.)
I don’t believe that the event organizers collected demographics (I don’t recall filling anything out) but I would estimate based on appearance (which is admittedly a crude measurement, but the only one I have) that it was 90-95% white. To be clear and precise: the entire event was not 100% white, and I certainly do not want to erase the experiences of others who attended. If any people from marginalized communities were at the event and want to share their own experiences, I am here to hold space or to amplify what you want to share–whatever feels the most helpful. But was the event overwhelmingly attended, produced, and taught by white people? Yeah, it was.
The last night at dinner, when I was sharing with my table-mates that I am building a meditation community with a core value to amplify the voices of marginalized people (specifically transgender / non-binary people and Black and Indigenous People of Color) the one white man at the table (the other three of us were white women) told me he thought it was completely unnecessary and challenged me on why I would even do that. When I gestured around us (our area of the restaurant had about 20 people; all appeared to be white) he said something along the lines of “it’s just economics,” and then switched tactics to telling me that my approach was wrong. Did I argue with him? No, I felt attacked, and so I left and went to the next scheduled event (where the creepy-touchy-man thing happened…. sigh.)
CONTEXT: ECONOMICS
That guy was right about the economics being a part of it, though: this retreat cost thousands of dollars to attend, plus the cost of plane tickets to Hawaii. (A great piece to read about this common problem is “What About the Cost of Retreats?” by Pamela Ayo Yetunde.) There are a lot of things that the retreat could do to address this; I hope they educate themselves about what those things are and start to implement them. In volunteer-staffed organizations like this, it can be a particular challenge as it’s easy to go into the “beggars can’t be choosers” mindset–but that doesn’t mean that it’s not important or possible. (And in all fairness, maybe they already are working on this. I don’t know their efforts; I only saw who was at the retreat this one year. But I do know that having a mostly-white leadership team and mostly-white teaching team would be the first place I would look to make changes.)
All to say: “enlightened” people or people on a spiritual path are in no way immune to the same power structures and dominant paradigms that infect and influence the rest of the world. The same bullsh*t hierarchies that are found everywhere are found here. The only way this stops is through intentional choice, a willingness to learn, hard work, and then more of the same. And money matters.
CONTEXT: Culture or cultural appropriation?
One other thing I want to mention is how uneasy I felt with things that felt like cultural appropriation to me: lots of white people with dreadlocks and Om tattoos, chanting in Sanskrit and praying and prostrating themselves to Hindu gods. I mean listen, I’m a white person who has been a student of Buddhism for 10+ years and who practices a fair amount of Eastern rituals myself. I know that we all have to make our own (hopefully conscious) choices about what is appropriate and respectful and what is not. But I was hyper-aware at some points about how it felt to me like some other people had crossed my own lines on this. On the last night, I watched a comedy TV show that featured two parody characters: white men healers appropriating all the symbols and language for corporate healing. And I was thinking... yeah, LOL, I was just in a room with some of those people.
But also it’s not a parody. And we live in a world of white supremacy and colonialism and cultural appropriation and we’re all responsible for owning our part in it. So I have to keep examining my own role. And honestly, for me, feeling gross when I see other people cross the line helps me understand where my own line is–and it reminds me to continually examine my own behaviors and biases. I definitely don’t always get it right (and am always learning and growing)–but that doesn’t mean that I can’t point out when I feel uncomfortable. In fact, I think we need more white people calling each other out and in, so that marginalized people don’t have to do all that work.
I didn’t post pictures from the event itself, but I do have a growing following on Instagram and people knew that I was at the retreat–and I had two separate people contact me about this short video posted to the official Ram Dass Instagram account to basically ask me: Liza, are you at a meditation retreat that is all white people? And I was. And I feel embarrassed about that. But also–truly–grateful to be trusted with that question, because it means people think I can do better.
CONTEXT: TOUCHING
It also matters that in a situation like this, typical barriers against touching strangers tend to fall away–for better and for worse. There were lots of old friends seeing each other, hugs, back rubs, lots of yoga and chanting and swaying and leaning and prostrating and physicality. One lovely woman who saw that my neck was tweaked offered to give me a short massage, and it felt glorious. I have never been at another event where someone rubbed my neck, and I loved it. (But uh… she asked first.) As a culture, we are becoming more and more aware of the seedier sides of touching in environments like this (see the new documentary, Bikram: Yogi, Guru, Predator; or the NYT / Hulu exposé about yoga corrections, Hands On.) But until we implement strategies to fix the problems (we can start with simple consent), we will continue to have creeps doing creepy sh*t. Like the swarmy guy who moved my body and rubbed it and smirked at me… who knows how many other people he creeped out this week, or over time.
Context: Venue Safety
Overall, the venue, Napili Kai Beach Resort on Maui, was great. Like, really fantastic.
As a woman traveling alone, though, there were some things that really colored my experience: no physical lock on the hotel room door (just a deadbolt that could be thrown from the outside) which, because my door was inches away from another doors, caused me a lot of lost sleep as I kept startling awake thinking someone was coming into my room as I slept.
And, to walk back to my room at night after the retreat events ended, I had to go down a very uneven unlit path, with small rocky cliffs and the open ocean on one side, and tall bushes on the other. It basically felt like a scene from a scary movie. (The last night, I learned that there was an alternate path, but that was on a road with no shoulder so I’m not sure how much better that is.) Then to get to my building off the path, I had to enter a code into a gate, which was often broken and so I would spend minutes alone in the dark fumbling with a gate. So, each night, I felt unsafe as I walked back to my room and then unsafe as I slept. (Not to mention there were multiple ocean rescues that happened right outside my room; the ocean herself seemed to be in a rage for some of the days that I was there.) So there wasn’t really a totally safe space, and my sleep was super interrupted. I felt like I was on alert the whole time.
Context: The “Hospitality” Table
The two women staffing the “hospitality” table (both conventionally pretty, thin, blonde white women) were, in my personal experience, pretty unfriendly. My own check-in was disappointing (very curt, as they seemed to want to get me out of there so they could talk about the well-known meditation teacher who checked in just before me) and I saw them treat a couple of other retreat attendees pretty coldly. I don’t personally know them so I can’t speak to what they might be like in daily life (perhaps they are lovely!) but based on what I saw and experienced, I certainly wouldn’t have felt safe going to them with any real problems.
And, my only personal interaction with the main organizer was when he was kind of snapping at me because when I moved my chair to make room for a wheelchair to come in, he didn’t think I’d moved far enough. He may or may not be a generally sweet and loving man (perhaps he is delightful!) but this was my one personal interaction with him so it’s the only personal context I had. I’m mostly bringing these things up because there didn’t feel (to me) like there was any safe or friendly way to get problems resolved or find an official advocate. If I was looking for help, I would have expected to be able to go to the “Hospitality” table or to the event organizer, but those didn’t really seem like good options here. (Maybe if something way worse had happened, it would have felt worth it to try; in this case it did not feel that way to me.)
And all of this adds up to an environment in which the creeps will always win.
So: what now?
Where does this leave us?
For me, I stopped participating in the retreat I'd flow 5,000 miles to attend. It also left me angry enough to publish this. (And if you are a woman, you already understand that writing this will make me a target of further harassment. Yes, even “spiritual people” harass strangers on the internet. Even people in monks robes, believe that.)
As I mentioned earlier, there was a lot that was good about the retreat, truly. And most of the people attending seemed really delighted to be there! But I spent quite a bit of my time thinking, “Everyone else seems so happy to be here; why do I feel so weird?” and as I have written this, I understand why. And I have to extrapolate: If I as a cis-gender, straight, older, financially secure white woman felt like this… well, I have to imagine it was even more difficult for others.
But friends, I think we can do better. I think we must. This is too important to cede on; too vital to keep quiet about.
Steps to take
For anyone in any position of power or influence, I hope you might consider these beginning steps; even more, I hope you might consider making them a part of your daily practice:
Educate yourself about power dynamics (especially in regards to race, gender, and ability) and put those learnings into practice
Educate yourself about cultural appropriation and work to educate others as well
If you are a white man: quit pretending that you don’t have power and control, and do the work to figure out how you can use it to the advantage of marginalized people
If you are a white woman like me: quit pretending we don’t benefit from systemic racism, and do the work to figure out how to make your feminism intersectional
If you gather people in any kind of a group, offline or online: do the research to write a code of conduct and learn how to apply it effectively
If you like to “stay positive:” you can assume the best in people and still understand that we are all learning and can all benefit from explicit direction and reminders on how to behave
If you are a human: keep your damn hands off of strangers ( …unless you receive explicit consent that you are 100% certain was not given due to imbalanced power dynamics –yes, even you, yoga teachers)
If you book speakers, teachers, guests, etc. in any context at all: nothing could matter more than booking a variety of people with a variety of view points (and pay them, equally–this is part of how it works)
Thank you for reading.
May your own practice offer solace and refuge. May your own practice be of benefit to others. May you feel safe, protected from harm, and valued for the contents of your soul. May your heart be open to learning and growing. And may my work and my words be of benefit to you.
Love,
ps. If you’re interested, I am doing my very best to build an online meditation community that amplifies the voices of marginalized people. We’ll be launching our new initiatives in early 2020, and you can follow along on our website, our Instagram account, and through my personal weekly newsletter. I don’t and won’t always get it right, but I am dedicated to trying. I invite you to dedicate yourself to doing the same–and if you feel so inspired, to join us.