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Laxer, Mark Eliot

"Take Me for a Ride: coming of age in a destructive cult"


I had not forgotten the problems with Rama. But I remembered
him telling me that through the good times and bad, we would
always be family. "And what family doesn't have problems?"
I asked myself.
I drove south to Stony Brook but did not find the group, so in New York
City I paid a surprise visit to Tom. When I told him about my quest
to find my tribe, he seemed to understand what I was going through.
But he had left the Centre roughly nine months before and had no interest
in returning. That night I saw for the second time The Razor's Edge.
"Maybe I can rejoin the group and be independent at the same time,"
I told myself as I began the drive west.
Days later, in San Diego, I was showering at the UCSD gym, when I
asked a guy if I could use some of his shampoo.
"Sure, Mark, take as much as you want," was the reply.
Wiping the soap from my eyes, I recognized Gary, a disciple
who had left Rama years ago. I was glad to see him. We decided
to go for a hike on Palomar Mountain. I told him during the ride
that I had lost my tribe.
He gave me an understanding smile. "I hear they have moved
to Laguna Beach."
"No kidding!" I said. "Would you like to go there instead of to Palomar?"
In less than two hours we sat eating cheesecake in Laguna Beach.


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