The Beautiful Princess Tonaiva: From Pretense To Truth

As a child I would often play by myself, pretending in my magical world that I was a beautiful princess. Sometimes I would crawl around in the grass, exploring the earth, expecting fairies to appear or leprechaun’s to peek out from under the clovers. In my world, there were no limitations--I felt as if anything were possible. As I grew into a young adult, my innocence stayed in tact, and my desire for the mystical grew stronger and stronger.

The years passed, I went to secretarial school, and ended up in Austin, TX, where I worked as an administrative assistant for a software consulting firm. As I was in the front office, I would see employees as they entered the building, and I would see them as they left. There was a particular gentleman who would always stop and chat with me on his way in and out. He was a nice fellow, and I didn't notice anything special about him until one day when we were engaging in our afternoon chat as he was leaving the building. On his way out, wishing me a good evening, he stopped, turned my direction, and made eye contact with me. I stayed with him, but then a moment passed, another moment passed, and another; he was still staring into my eyes. I began to feel a bit exposed, vulnerable, naked in fact--not in a sexual way, but in a way that I had never experienced before. It wasn't that I felt uncomfortable; it was as if my heart starting blowing up like a balloon. I had to turn away suddenly as to prevent my heart from exploding. He said, “goodnight,” and proceeded home. I was a bit perplexed by what had just happened, and I felt like I needed to explain myself--why I had just turned away. The next business day came, and he entered the building, passing my desk as usual. He stopped and invited me to lunch, where then he began to tell me of his life of selfless service, his constant practice of meditation, and the endless supply of love, which flowed from the hand of his guru to all of his brothers and sisters in a bubble of total serenity, safety, and security—“The Buddafield.” He invited me to come to a meeting that Thursday night, wherein beautiful “sat sang” would be shared, joyful singing would take place, and the guru himself would reveal shakti to people. The events that transpired following this momentous invitation changed my life forever.

As I walked into The Assembly Hall, which smelled of damp wood and incense (per the spiritual context of the meeting), there were 150 people all facing the front of the room where a living room chair had been placed, centered and covered with a pretty blue Indian-print blanket. The chair was set on a two-foot platform, lit up with a rose-tinted spot light, and had two large flower arrangements set on the floor on either side. There was also a lovely navy blue backdrop with metallic gold designs. This whole set up gave one the feeling that someone really special would be sitting in that chair. I found a spot on the floor after squeezing in-between the tightly arranged ocean of chairs and sat in Indian style, closed my eyes, and meditated as everyone else in the room was doing. Not long after I shut my eyes, the room became even more silent as if everyone stopped breathing. I turned around and looked towards the door from which I entered, and there HE stood, perusing the entire room. Quickly, a path was made for him to walk to the center chair (sort of like the parting of the red sea). He aired aristocracy, and his body was extremely muscular with golden skin that seemed to glow with light. When he spoke, the tone of his voice, mixed with his Venezuelan accent, was mesmerizing. That night he shared, we sang, then he invited several people to receive shakti, a transferable energy that contained the element of bliss…not quite the direct experience of God, which he called, “The Knowing,” but a rung towards “the ultimate gift of holy truth.”

From the time I was 23 to 36, I lived with, worked with, did selfless service with, played with, and everything that one can possible do with the same 150 people. Every day and night was filled was some Buddafield activity, and I was never without something to do. During the week-day mornings, we were encouraged to come to the guru’s garden and do service. This entailed cleaning and feeding his 20 chickens, 12 peacocks, 9 rabbits, 25 parakeets, 15 cockatiels, 5 large parrots, 2 black swans, and his kangaroo. Monday mornings, I went to the guru’s garden until about 1pm, went to work, and rushed home to get ready for Class. Monday nights, we would all meet in a reserved space large enough to fit our whole group for a function that our guru called “Class.” It was like an acting class/therapy class wherein various group exercises took place that focused on ridding ourselves of programmed psychological habits that inhibited our ability to connect to meditation constantly. This class started at 8pm and usually lasted until 2am. On Tuesday nights, I cooked and delivered meals for six different disciples who served the guru so much of the time that they had no time of their own. Wednesday mornings, I would help one of the quadriplegic disciples bathe and eat, then I would go to the garden, work, and home to make “Prasad” for the guru’s ballet class, which took place every Wednesday and Sunday afternoon. On Thursday nights, we would all meet for a night of formal sat sang in the Assembly Hall, and on Friday nights, we would all meet at a movie theatre to see a movie that the guru picked. Saturdays were free days, in which we all tried to catch up, and Sunday’s were spent on “outings” with the guru, which entailed swimming, singing, and the revealing of shakti. Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, and Christmas day were also spent with the guru. In the guru’s terms, this was our “real” family. Essentially, everyone in the group spent little or no time with their physical families for years and years. Some had been with the guru for over 26 years and hadn’t seen their immediate relatives in over 20 years. They had no idea that in the months to come, they would learn that they had pushed away their families for no veritable reason, but solely as a way to stay under the mind control of the most manipulative and deluded man I have ever known.

In July of 2006, some very unpalatable truths about our beloved guru came to surface, and the entire Buddafield came crashing down. Pages and pages of distasteful information was funneled through the group over about a year’s period. Disciples dropped off either one-by-one or in small groups. Eventually all but ten left the guru to start their lives anew. I was one of the last ones to realize the truth about the guru, but when I finally accepted the facts, my mystical paradise instantly evaporated, and the sheath that protected me was suddenly in flames. The result for me was total devastation. I had to deal with the death of my greatest love, my home, my identification, and my religion.

Not only was the guru not illuminated, but he had manufactured the Buddafield under a belief system that he had simply made up. He based his teachings on books about ancient spiritual gurus, such as Rama Krishna, Babaji, Maher Baba, the Buddha, Jesus, and Krishna, all of whom he referred to as equals. One of the things that he used to share with us on every occasion was that duality is an illusion; however, he would tell us that we are not our minds, and whatever the mind says is a lie. That didn’t seem to apply when we were praising him.

My community/family/friends/the Buddafield was filled with love and devotion because that is what we all wanted to experience. He was the center point that gave us the excuse for that. Personally, he was my master, my guide, my mother, my father, and my everything; I would have jumped off of a cliff if he only asked. If I had known just a few of these things that I know now, I would have left him a long time ago:

• He craved an audience so desperately that he did and said whatever it took to keep us around.
• For years he had been manipulating his male disciples (both heterosexual and homosexual) to have sex with him by telling them it was the highest service to be with the master.
• He created negative rumors about those who questioned him as a way to transfer the focus off of himself and on to the one questioning (black-listing them).
• He was abusive to many of his disciples behind closed doors as a way to control them.
• He never paid for anything, not even his toiletries, but kept his mattress stuffed with thousands of dollars.
• He rejected those of his disciples that wanted to be near him and surrounded himself with only the most handsome men and women as to attract new handsome male disciples.
• Opposite to how he encouraged us to live, he received several sexual “services” daily from different disciples the last 20 years.

In conclusion, being in the Buddafield for the last 13 years of my life has been a great learning experience and has forever changed me. I can safely say that my age suits me, because I have been through the mill. Here are some of the things I have learned and can whole-heartedly share with others:

• You can’t avoid the world; as long as you are in it, there are many things that you must deal with, and it’s not always easy.
• I am the ruler of me; I am the only one that can make the choices for the life that I’m living.
• I am very powerful with my own will, and must take great care in making requests from others or the divine.
• I must be cautious and conscious while walking whatever path I choose.
• Intuition should be used freely and as the ultimate personal guide.
• The blissful experience of the divine is real, and it is alive in each one of us.