From the journal Material For Thought, issue number
12
© 1990 Far West Editions
On Growth Centers
This issue marks the 20th anniversary of Material
for Thought. It seems appropriate to acknowledge John Pentland,
who initiated and guided this journal, by reprinting the following essay he
wrote for the Spring 1971 issue,
published when the personal growth movement was beginning its spread outward from
Returning
from vacation, I find the catalogues of no less than six Esalen-type weekend
spiritual resorts on my desk, including the sumptuous forty-page illustrated
brochure of Esalen Institute itself. Not only these, but a copy of a new
magazine devoted to this so-called Personal Growth movement and a
directory of two hundred Personal Growth centers now existing in America, including a few
in Mexico, Canada and England.
These books have come to
me, by the way, in the trash mail, not because I asked for them but
because someone put my name on a list. It is true that for many years I,
too, have spent my Sundays with others in activities designed for
self-study and the search for life’s inner meaning and once we even wrote a
brochure about ourselves, although this never made the mailing
lists.
Is it possible that
everyone is doing it now? Perhaps a glance at these programs will give me ideas about
what is missing in our own activities or at least some feedback about what in
general people find most attractive and
necessary.
For example,
there are a great many courses dealing with body awareness. Here is a weekend about: “the sense of reality, pleasure and coherence in what we do depends on our not being
alienated from ourselves as bodies”
(October 25-31, $270 per person). This is growth center language but it has the ring of truth. Certainly, if we had
really made our peace with our bodies,
were physically normal, so to speak, we would not be the prey of those tensions and nervous habits—drugs included—which cloud our lives, and particularly
the lives of the “livingest” among us.
But what has body awareness (“bring sweat pants and leotards”) got to do with the values in life—with my philosophical outlook, with my relation to God? This is not made
clear.
I notice in another
catalogue the word “ongoing.” There are ongoing groups at this resort
for couples, ongoing groups for adolescents, for mothers and so on. Strange to
say, I notice that all this ongoingness made me stop, or is it
hesitate? Instead of writing this, I had intended to think over the plan for our
own season of activities. Do I want them to be ongoing? It is true that
I used to fear they might peter out, leaving many of us with empty
weekends. But as a matter of statistics our gatherings have been going
on so long now that this danger has gradually lost its fascination for me. Instead of
searching for the secret of an automatic
momentum, we have accepted movement itself as a fact of life, and it was even one of the principal
mysteries we decided to study. But
that was last year.
What about live-in
communities? “The most critical need and challenge [today],” says
the introduction to one of these booklets, “is to understand and deepen the
relationship between learning styles [a
la growth
centers] and new life styles. . . In the deepest human sense living and learning are inseparable.” This
center sees an evolution in the present form
of weekend seminars. Plans arc outlined for providing opportunities for people to be together longer
than merely on Sundays and for a
living-learning residential community which will open next year. We too are faced by that challenge but we are
not sure this is the best way to meet
it. Although the learning at weekends desperately needs to be continued
in our weekday lives, live-in communities, as we discovered by experience, almost inevitably come under the control of one or two personalities whose organizing ability
is more durable than their potential
for fostering new experience. Community living is, at most, only part of the answer.
Here is another catalogue.
This place describes itself as “. . . a center working
with kindred organizations, for the exploration and development
of human awareness, the goal being the realization that all things
are ultimately One and harmonious.” A splendid expression of aim,
but not entirely paralleled by the dreary list of lecture subjects—encounter
group for couples, restoring joy to everyday living, the phenomenon of LSD,
Tibetan Buddhism: its Meaning and Practice (ah, that might be worth going
to)—or the too familiar names of guest speakers on the first page. If there are two hundred of these growth centers, how
is it that these same speakers seem
to be at all of them?
Suddenly, in tiny print in
the list of “People Involved,” there is an even more familiar name—my own.
What is it doing there? Now I am glad I visited this place several
years ago; it raises a question about what it means to lead any serious
discussion group and what is my own relationship to these increasingly professional weekend
institutions for growth.
People all over the world
are meeting together, particularly at weekends; in general people cannot bear
to be alone for very long at a time so they meet together. We who are engaged in spiritual
search and personal growth also come
together; whether we are organized professionally or make the arrangements ourselves, we take part in the same
social movement. Since we happen to
have become aware of the abnormal staleness and poor quality of our thinking and feeling and put these
down to the many contradictions in
our lives, the announced purpose of all our meetings, professional and amateur, is to study how to
re-integrate our lives and thereby
awaken thoughts and feelings that are purer and more creative. In religious language, which for us laymen is not
precise or popular but seldom without
effect, we might say that our purpose is to experience a relation with an energy or an entity greater than the
human—with soul or God. Only God has absolutely pure thoughts and
feelings.
The leader of the meeting or
the group is in a special position with regard to this purpose. “In the truest sense,”
says one of these booklets, “all those who
share space with us here are our teachers. They exemplify, inform, challenge, aggravate and charm us, and so
we learn about ourselves.” But
unavoidably there will be many occasions when the attention of the whole group is focused on the leader and the
search of each individual will, at
least to some extent, reflect the leader’s experience and preferences. To quote the same booklet, “the
teacher is one who fascinates, who has an awareness of what the
individual needs—then takes responsibility
for presenting information in a way that he is capable of understanding.”
No doubt we leaders prepare
ourselves most seriously for this task—by learning to listen
attentively, to communicate our insights as simply and with as much true
feeling as we can, as well as by occasionally monitoring the discussion to avoid distractions
that might be too
boring or painful. We try to show a pathway toward those more universal levels of questioning which alone can
bring a group of diverse people into harmony
with each other. And whether by the manner in which we allow new approaches and solutions to appear, rather than suggesting them ourselves, or by sitting in with
the others rather than in front of
them, we try to by-pass a conventional teacher-pupil situation. No doubt
all these preparations for leadership, and many others too, are useful in producing better participation and
exchange. But so long as they spring
from a subjective feeling and sense about the position of leader, their value must be relative. Only a
conscious examination of the forces working in a group exchange can throw true
light on the leader’s place and role.
And this examination may in its turn throw some light on the arrangement of forces through which growth itself can
be possible.
If the purpose of the
members of the group is to open their minds and hearts toward an energy
which is greater than themselves and which in a sense is divine, what is the
exact function of the leader? Is he an intermediary between them
and this energy? Do his opinions and choice of forms have an authority
which lends itself to “worship” by the members? Or is he merely a
moderator, taking part with others, but having, as a result of
greater experience, the necessary freedom to direct the activity? What makes
these questions awkward, and even unpleasant, is the introduction of
traditional concepts like “divine” and even “God” into a psychological
framework—say, that of the encounter group—which seems too small to
hold them.
Obviously, psychologists and psychiatrists have had to study and find methods of freeing patients from their own authority. The great religious traditions, at least in their origin, also include safeguards, which have been renewed from time to time by reformers, against the abuse of its position by the priesthood. But here at our meetings and at the meetings of the growth centers, what in fact is the attitude to the leaders?
Let us go
back for a moment to how it all began. According to the editorial in Personal
Growth (Vol. 1, No. 1), the Personal Growth movement had its origin in
psychotherapy. “Once a patient’s disabilities are treated and he becomes able to function more
or less effectively in the world, he wants something
more. That something more (beyond symptom
removal, and beyond adjustment) is often summed up in the term personal growth.” The editor goes on: “At this point he is embarked
on a voyage of discovery that began
historically with Socrates and Plato and that has its counterpart in Eastern meditational practices. It is a
voyage and a search that encompasses
philosophy and religion as well as psychology and psychiatry.”
This brochure provides ample
evidence that the leaders of these centers draw
freely, in the various techniques and conditions they offer, on traditional and religious knowledge.
Probably something new
enters when humanistic psychology reaches into the domain of
traditional knowledge. However desirable it may be that these two approaches to
human truth should meet, the fact is that they start out from
different, even contradictory, assumptions, and this must mean that the crossing
of the line between them should not pass unnoticed. Unfortunately,
our Western traditions have been so secularized that the line is
barely recognizable.
In the East, where
traditional religion still has a popular hold, a carved Buddha or other statue
is felt as a representation and reminder not only of the divine but of the idea
of self-development. The priest is the one who least of all forgets to
acknowledge the divine presence in everything by bowing to the symbol.
Western educated man looks
with distaste on this idol-worship. Buddhas have mainly artistic
value, passing through auction rooms to the museums. The symbol of the
cross, often looked on with a vague distaste, is made by the priest with his own hand, and he
is apt in many cases to occupy a position of authority on religious
matters which is parallel to the position of an elected political leader.
Such general statements
about East and West are no doubt greatly exaggerated but it appears
that “Personal Growth” leaders have felt something
of the dangers which are inherent in what has just been described as the Western approach to spiritual leadership.
In their final goal, which
is expressed as “Inner Freedom and Autonomy,” they seem to indicate not only
what has been their own way of searching but how they intend to free their pupils from
their own authority.
“No one teacher, no system of ideas can ever give us ultimate truth. Each
inevitably has some defect. Each can only help us, in a very limited way, give birth to
truth within ourselves. So we begin to give up the search outside
ourselves for a single way, an ultimate system. We no longer accept the words of
authority figures unquestioningly. . . We begin to be selective about
our teachers, and we reject those who try to impose an ideology. When,
from time to time, we find a teacher who helps us grow in our own way—who acts as
a kind of midwife, helping us liberate the
potentialities within us—we stay with him as long as we are making progress.” (Personal Growth, Vol. 1,
No.1)
That the teacher should act
as a kind of midwife, helping us to relate our everyday lives to the higher
possibilities within us, and that we stay with him only as long as we are making progress,
is a striking statement, striking because it
is just in this relating of everyday functions to our higher energy that growth seems to consist.
Although the brochure goes
on to suggest the discovery of still greater possibilities, it is, we find, in forging, in the
center, a relationship
between higher and lower that real human growth consists. For the appearance in us of
our higher potentialities we depend on the help of a group and its leader,
acting as a kind of midwife. Real growth will consist in the study
and development in each of us, for himself, of a real relationship
between these potentialities and our everyday functions. Just as our bones
grow in the middle, so can we. To follow one’s ordinary bent toward
growth at the ends, upward toward acquisition of greater psychic powers, or downward toward
more efficient
functioning, can only produce an abnormally-structured man.
It follows that, although
the leader is bound to use what means he understands for effecting
the appearance in us of higher and purer energies, he has a further
task and discipline—to arrange that these higher energies are related
by each individual’s active effort to his own person and his own everyday life.
The point is that unless this is done, the higher energy released under the
leader’s direction has to go somewhere and will inevitably become associated by
the members with the leader’s person and
organization, causing an emotional cycle: first affection, then loyalty, and finally disappointment at the lack of
“progress.”
As a step toward the “inner
freedom” goal of leaders and members alike, we need a teaching that will address itself to
exactly this question. Thank you, “Personal Growth” movement. Your enticing
programs have made this clearer.