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Keep people waiting and tell them not to talk - a Moo event 2016

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Description of a Moo event in India

This authors seems to like Moo. She gives some very intriguing descriptions of rules and behavior expected of people lining up for a Moo event.

It looks from the persons description like you are instructed not to talk even while waiting to be let in to a Moo event? My God, if this is true, it means you cannot even mutter to a friend or neighbor that your feet hurt and WTF are you being expected to wait around like this?

Indoctrinational environment begins even while you are merely waiting in line.

It is also a power play. Powerful people keep underlings waiting. Classic guru trick, BTW. The longer you wait, the more you justify to yourself that the event has to be worth it - right?

Moo has clearly learned a lot about crowd management. Ya dont learn this from getting enlightened.

You learn this because you've studied up on this, maybe served an apprenticeship helping out setting up other guru events. Having Osho types on your staff can also be a source of expert info on how to manage large groups of people - and manage their expectations, too.

Note how the author wanted to cling to the feeling.

And, note how all rules must be followed to preserve the mood. If enlightenment
is so simple, so stable, why all the excessive regimentation?


[allisonswanderland.com]

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Rishikesh, India — March 2016
Today, after meditation and yoga we walked south, past the Indian man chanting into a microphone in front of a movie camera, beyond the women washing clothes in the Ganges, through an alley and onto a road to see Mooji.

The line seemed terribly long, but we had heard they admitted people by lottery so our chances were as good as anyone’s to get a good seat. So many of these gatherings take on a cult-like atmosphere, this was no different. Perhaps it was the ‘no talking’ dictate, or the helpers all in white. It is referred to as a Sattvic environment – pure, balanced. Whatever the case, I’ve been down this road before and it didn’t worry me.

As we waited to be admitted, we took in life around us as it was taking us in: Families with children looking down from their roof tops and marveling at these people that line up day after day, doors cracked to allow the curious to peek out and men seated on stoops having their normal conversations as if this was nothing new.

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here is a member of our group that is a long time follower and she has graciously led us here today.As luck would have it, many of us are in the line that is chosen first to find a seat.

The hall is big, with chairs lining both sides and a wide center portion set with pillows a little too closely together on the floor in the the front and wide open seating behind that.

(Corboy: We need to learn more about the seating arrangement at Moo satsangs and retreats. In this article, note that description of the seating in front, compared to the wide open seating behind those front row seats.

Who sit in that front row seating. We need to learn more.

On CEI message board we have identified the importance of chair spacing as part of the mood altering indoctrination recipe for Large Group Awareness Trainings (LGATs). In most LGATs, chairs are spaced so closely together that this violates normal physical boundaries. Indian psychiatrist Sudhir Kakar visited a guru satsang group and had a lot to say about how normal physical and emotional boundaries dissolve when we sit very, very closely together.)

A single chair and a couple of plants occupies the stage in front of all of this. We chose chairs as close as we could get, maybe 10 rows back, stage right.

And waited.

A woman in white took the stage first informing us of the rules of Mooji. It seems as if his message is all about liberation, as all questions were to be directed to that topic. There were standing microphones placed a few rows in on either aisle. If Mooji called on your raised hand, you were to speak your question into the microphone at close proximity so no one had to strain to hear you. Please make the questions universal and not personal. About liberation.

We were strongly encouraged to stay in our seats until Mooji exited. No bathroom breaks or leaving early, please. If we felt we might want to do either of those, we were invited to take a less disruptive place in the back of the large hall.

Finally he joined us. I now know he is Jamaican. I found his presence very soothing and grounding. He sat, covered his lap with a blanket then paused with the mic that was to rest on his ear, held aloft, as he gazed out at the audience with the most gentle smile in his eyes.

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Once he placed the mic on his ear he spoke for several moments on the prison of our habits. Boom. Most of my nonfiction reading lately has been about this very subject – some of it even on purpose, some ‘accidental.’ I was listening.

Once he opened the floor up, it seemed despite the clear instruction at the beginning, each question was pretty personal in nature, but he was able to answer on a broader level. The people who stood to speak were infused with that yoga high I’ve become all too aquatinted with. It’s not lasting. Not like this. Once they leave the confines of their bubble, the real world often comes barreling back in to challenge their newfound liberation. I hoped they have the tools to take home to integrate, so the high can settle into a well-worn sort of bliss.

Here's where it gets personal. Two, how many of us want to risk being recorded or photographed when we are so vulnerable, eh?

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One woman was invited onto the stage where she sobbed uncontrollably into Mooji’s lap. He very tenderly rubbed her back as she continued to wail into his microphone. His compassion was palpable, his reach wide, I too dropped into his energetic embrace.

As the woman’s sobs subsided, he began to teach from this experience. She was clear now, she got it and the rest of us could get it too. I nodded to myself but I’m not entirely sure that I did get it.

....(edited for brevity- Corboy)

The woman who had let it all go at the feet of her guru stayed with me. Witnessing that experience along with the other teachings left me contemplative.

Now, notice how the author wanted to cling to the mood.

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When we were at last permitted to leave, I just wanted to find an empty space and sit. The exit was ordered and quiet – everyone was still observing silence – all the way through shoe retrieval and to the fence at the edge of the property.

I wanted to stay quiet. I wanted to sit in a bubble where these ideas, thoughts and challenges could bounce around me without landing, passing before my eyes and awareness for review or dismissal as I saw fit.

But this is India and quiet is a foreign concept. Just outside the gate others began sharing their experiences. I wanted them to stop talking to me. I wanted the kids to stop playing, the horns to stop beeping. I wanted quiet.

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