Swami Chetananda Visitor Comments

"I can't believe I found these articles about Michael Shoemaker on the Internet. I once lived in his freak show ashram. Seeing his photo makes me want to vomit. I know first hand the sexual misconduct and money misuse of this phony. He used the money earned by people working 70 to 80 hours. We had $8 a week to spend on whatever we wanted! Swami Shoemaker had sex with me within a week of my arriving at the ashram. 'Meet me in the meditation room, I have some special work for you.' I was anticipating steps toward my spiritual enlightenment. He had sex with whomever he wanted. No woman would dare refuse him. I guess that's what he would call 'consensual sex.' We were forbidden to associate with people in 'skag,' that was anyone who wasn't in the ashram. When I told Shoemaker I wanted to leave the ashram, he said I'd be in a mental institution within 6 months. I felt like I was breaking out of one!"

Were Swami Chetanananda’s followers merely "cash cows" milked by guru?

Former disciples offer insider’s look at guru’s finances, largely based upon loans and gifts from his devotees

September 1, 2005
By Rick Ross

Hone Ames says the swami once asked her for money to invest in a condo-conversion scheme in New Jersey. Hardly, anything spiritual about that, but she nevertheless found it difficult if not impossible to refuse the guru who had become her "link to God."

Ames told The Oregonian that she remains traumatized by both her financial losses and psychological pain caused by Swami Chetanananda the leader of the "Nityananda Institute," her controversial mentor known in Indiana as J. Michael Shoemaker.

Swami Shoemaker now lives with his followers in a pricey refurbished manor in Northeast Portland.

The guru repeatedly refused interview requests from The Oregonian concerning allegations made by his former followers. Instead, he sent a terse typed statement that said, "I have never coerced anyone, period," which interestingly did not respond directly to the subject of loans, gifts or investments from his past devotees.

Ames ultimately gave the guru $250,000 for his New Jersey condo deal. An initial investment was deposited in a joint account the swami controlled with one of his assistants. The wire transfer of funds was under his original given name, J. Michael Shoemaker.

Ames shared with The Oregonian relevant documentation about all the money she gave Shoemaker from 1988 to 1997.

On November 16, 1989 Ames deposited $62,500 into Shoemaker’s joint account and the swami wrote a check that same day to cover his investment.

"People are concerned about teachers because they're afraid they're going to get ripped off. There's no avoiding getting ripped off to some extent in this life." -- Chetanananda January 24, 1988

Former followers of Chetanananda have given the guru many gifts, such as artwork, camera equipment, first-class airline tickets and luxury hotel accommodations in Hawaii.

In 1999 one devotee Norman Bodek signed over his Portland house to the Nityananda Institute as a charitable contribution. Bodek has since left the group.

A corporation called "Productivity Inc." provided the guru with a monthly income.

Ames largely relied upon an inheritance from her grandmother to provide Chetanananda with money. She reportedly saw him as a "Christ-like figure," despite his constant requests for cash.

Ames first invested $100,000 in a commodity scheme hatched by Shoemaker in April 1988.

"I'll move to Portland. I'll either have enough people in that building to support it, or I'll go fly-fishing." -- Chetanananda December 1992

In 1993 Ames gave the Nityananda Institute $500,000 to build a meditation hall, but this time she loaned the money for a period of three years with 6% interest.

The guru bought a historic big brick building in Portland once called Laurelhurst Manor, which was formerly a rest home. Real estate records show $840,000 was borrowed toward the $1.2 million purchase price of the house. The group also bought about a dozen other houses in the Portland neighborhood.

The big brick building at 1021 N.E. 33rd Ave. built in 1910 required substantial renovations.

"As a swami, of course, I don't have the usual signposts in life that tell me I'm a success or a failure. For instance, when you're a swami, you don't get a salary." -- Chetanananda January 2, 1993

Ames moved into the Portland building later during 1993. It was remodeled somewhat lavishly; largely through the use of the money she provided and renamed the "Rudrananda Ashram." Ames recalled that fresh flowers were flown in from California and empty French wine bottles could also be seen flowing from the Shoemaker’s private suite.

Ames says that in April 1994, Chetanananda/Shoemaker called her into his suite and told her that all her money was gone from the condo investment. Actually the company involved had filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy three years before that meeting. When she asked the swami for documentation the guru got angry and picked up a chair threateningly she told The Oregonian.

The swami then told Ames to talk it over with his brother, attorney John Robert "Bob" Shoemaker, another one of his disciples. She got a terse memo stating, "As you know the partnership never listed you as a partner. The investment was made in Swamiji's name, and his taxpayer I.D. number was used."

"Egotism, . . . the fundamental sickness of human beings, is what people come here to be cured of. And you know, I run a hospital. I live here 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I'm on call for the last 25 years. This is not a benefit to me. It is a benefit to you." -- Chetanananda January or February 1996

On March 8, 1996 Ames signed a one-year extension of her loan to the Nityananda Institute.

"I probably try to do too much already, managing this place, carrying on my head the debt load that it represents. I don't know if any of you have been $2.5 million in debt before. All of you who have money pressures on you know what that's like. Well, magnify it a bunch." -- Chetanananda April 2, 1996

April 2, 1996 the Martha's Vineyard house in Massachusetts where Chetanananda once held retreats burned to the ground. The Fire department reported that the cause was "undetermined."

It was certainly easier to sell the property vacant without the house. And an insurance company paid out several hundred thousand dollars for the loss. This provided a much needed and convenient infusion of cash for the group, which promptly bought more property in Portland.

"The love and devotion we display toward a teacher is a crucial part of the transformation process." -- Chetanananda, in his book, "Choose to be Happy," Rudra Press, 1996

Ames personal breaking point came in January of 1997 when the guru yelled at her for missing a kitchen chore. At that time the years of accumulated doubts regarding his frequent temper tantrums, false predictions, failed investment schemes, insults and repeated put-downs, not to mention sexual encounters, finally caused Ames to reconsider his "Christ-like" status.

"There is one thing I want to make really clearly, and that is I am a liberated soul…I think it may not be possible for a liberated soul to live in the company of human beings." -- Chetanananda, on Aug. 12, 1997

The Portland ashram's mortgage was ceremoniously burned in July 1997. Chetanananda thanked disciple Kerry Ernest Smith for donating $1.7 million to pay off that loan.

But the portly guru from Indiana still faced repayment of Ames’ loan of $500,000 plus interest.

To further complicate the group’s finances former member Melinda Mandell was suing Chetanananda and his institute. Court records show that Mandell claimed misrepresentation, intentional infliction of emotional distress, breach of contract and racketeering. The suit asked for more than $4 million in damages.

Mandell said that the institute was not really a non-profit church, but rather a for-profit business that benefited the guru and his inner circle. Lawyers for the swami refuted her claims, but a confidential settlement eventually came in 1999.

During the litigation and thereafter the Nityananda Institute began requiring its members to sign a release forms that stated, "I accept that I am fully responsible for myself and my life…including my own actions, behavior, thoughts, financial status, health, relationships, and any other condition."

By August of 1997 the guru had arranged for a bank loan to pay off the $500,000 from Ames had and negotiated interest payments.

"If you're the person who's (expletive) judging what work you're going to do all the damn time, what do you need a teacher for?…I am constantly meeting people who are sitting in judgment of what I am communicating to them. You can't believe how frustrating it is for me to see people who think they're better than me." -- Chetanananda August 28, 1997

Ames says she moved out during December of 1997. As she left the woman who had helped her guru so much recalled that she didn’t even receive an acknowledgement or a goodbye.

"I bust my guts out for people who mostly wonder, you know, 'What in the hell happened?' and 'What's that son of a bitch trying to get from me anyway?' Well, the truth of the matter is, I'm after your money. Or, I could be after your bodies. -- Chetanananda February 1998

In the fall of 1998 Martha's Vineyard Land Bank commissioners approved the purchase of the swami’s old property in Massachusetts for $1.2 million. Through this transaction the Nityananda Institute gained some much-needed money and Ames got her interest payments.

But earlier that spring the swami was less than sanguine and let loose with what appears to be another temper tantrum. He told Ames in a letter, "You are a cowardly, vengeful, venomous witch...I do not sexually abuse women…I have never cheated you in business…If you don't stop these slanderous lies and harassment of members of our community, I will sue you…I will make the process as ugly and expensive as humanly possible."

Note: This report was based upon an article titled "In the Grip of the Guru (part three) "The high price of enlightenment" by Richard Read published by the Oregonian July 17, 2001

Moving on – former followers of the swami tell of their journey to become free

September 1, 2005
By Rick Ross

Debi Moore apparently began to lose faith in Swami Chetanananda in Nepal during 1999. She remembers being uncomfortable on a trip to Katmandu accompanied by her boyfriend and led by the Kentucky-born guru from Indiana originally named J. Michael Shoemaker.

Swami Chetanananda/Shoemaker now lives in Portland with about 75 followers and has been repeatedly accused of financial and sexual abuse.

At the time of her trip to Nepal Moore was a 46-year-old data analyst who had spent 26 years following the swami. But she had heard of his sexual encounters with female disciple’s and reports of violence that caused a crisis of faith for the long-time believer.

Chetanananda repeatedly declined requests for an interview with The Oregonian concerning any allegations that have been made. Instead, he provided a prepared typed statement, which included, "I am not a sadist and I am not violent."

In 1999 Moore found her guru in a lavish Katmandu home complete with marble floors, porches, manicured lawn and guarded gate, in striking contrast with the general poverty of that city.

Shoemaker/ Chetanananda also had a caretaker, a driver, two cooks and women to do his laundry. One night a barber even came to cut his hair.

When the swami from Indiana reportedly joked about "getting laid" it shocked Moore.

Later Shoemaker and his entourage went on a photo safari in a Nepali tiger reserve.

"I promise you, Shree (sic), the people who stand against me will be crushed, and their children and their grandchildren." -- Chetanananda, autumn 1998

Ten longtime devotees, including Moore, left Chetanananda’s ashram in spring 1999.

One former follower Dana Swift quit on April 29, 1999 after eleven years of devotion.

Not long before these departures Chetanananda and Nityananda Institute made an out of court confidential legal settlement with Portland-area lawyer Melinda Mandell, another one of Shoemaker’s former followers. She claimed he was guilty of breach of contract and racketeering.

The Oregonian found that the lawsuit was once before Multnomah County Circuit Judge David Gernant, but the records had been sealed. Mandell's lawyer successfully argued that the information could damage the reputations of those involved.

Mandell, a Portland attorney, refused to comment for The Oregonian article about Chetanananda and was unhappy that the newspaper identified her.

Boston cook Marty Keady, an ashram chef and follower of the guru for four years, says he left in disgust during 1996 due to the swami’s rumored peccadilloes.

Jim Hassan, a Massachusetts resident who began following Chetanananda in 1989, said he also left due to the swami’s sexual encounters with his female followers. Hassan said that the guru once threatened him. He was told, "‘if you leave, you'll be dead within a year.' "

Moore recalled that her boyfriend advised her that Shoemaker forbid his followers to talk with anyone that left.

But the swami denied this within his prepared statement and said that he has never threatened anyone.

Moore still insisted that her boyfriend was given the ultimatum: her or the guru.

Former followers of Shoemaker expressed common fears when they attended a meeting of an informal support group. They feared the guru’s temper and threats. Swami Chetanananda/Shoemaker denied this in his statement, "No harm has ever happened to any person who has left our community as the result of any action by me or anyone associated with me."

But at least one former member complained of nightmares and many got unlisted phone numbers after leaving the ashram. Some reportedly asked local police to watch their homes.

Ex-devotee Aurelia Navarro recalled how angry the swami became when confronted about his sexual liaisons.

"If this were India, I would be found floating facedown in the Ganges" River. "Generating a vision…That's having a very, very deep and profound commitment to something bigger than you. For me, it was my teacher..." -- Chetanananda June 14, 2000

Former members had created the site -- www.leaving-nityananda-institute.org [no longer working] -- that features anonymous statements about Chetanananda by 11 people.

"If you want to really understand who we are, come and meet me, meet us. You may or may not want to practice yoga and meditation here. But in either case, know, from within yourself, who we are." – Chetanananda, September 18, 2000.

"He told us the only thing we had to surrender was our tensions, when in fact we were expected to surrender everything to his program: our families, our girlfriends if we were men, our bodies if we were women…our money, our former religious beliefs and morals, and our sense of belonging in the society at large," states one entry within the Web site.

The Web site also has results of a survey taken of several ex-members; many described abusive behavior in the group.

Swami Shoemaker denied everything. "A small but vocal circle of former members who regularly meet to distribute malicious gossip via the Internet…The allegations that are not outright lies are distortions so gross as to be impossible to respond to," the guru from Indiana said.

"Interpersonal experience…while full of caring, may also be full of chaos and clutter. Many religious rules, such as celibacy, are established to save us from that clutter." -- Chetanananda, Institute newsletter, January 2001

Dana Swift, who spent 11 years with Chetanananda, moved to another state to begin a new life. She still meditates and does Tibetan chants at times, but doesn’t seem interested in some new guru.

Hone Ames, who spent 10 years devoted to Shoemaker and was something like his bank left Portland and became an author. She was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.

One of the eleven women that told The Oregonian about sexual encounters with Chetanananda became a medical practitioner.

Debi Moore and her boyfriend managed to stay together and bought some acreage in a rural area near Portland. After Moore read about cult psychology she eventually lost her fear of the guru.

Sharon Ward, the institute's executive director and general counsel, dismissed former members' fears and allegations.

Within the 2001 article published by The Oregonian several followers of Swami Chetanananda/Shoemaker voiced strong abiding support for their guru despite repeated reports of abuse by their former ashram friends.

Pat Tarzian, a 13-year member strongly supported the swami as did Carolyn Morgan a member for more than 20 years.

Ruth Knight, a teacher at the group’s center in Portland had this to say about former members that had become detractors of her guru, "I think they've created a hell for themselves that they can't get out of."

Note: This report was based upon an article titled "In the Grip of the Guru" (part four) "Breaking the swami’s hold" by Richard Read published by the Oregonian July 18, 2001

"Swami" accused of "abuse"

July 21, 2005
By Rick Ross

J. Michael Shoemaker, overweight bald headed 52-year-old college dropout from Indiana, is the would-be guru "Swami Chetanananda" of Portland, Oregon. But the seemingly sleazy swami has been accused of "financial, sexual and spiritual abuse" by dozens of his former followers as reported by the Oregonian.

Shoemaker operates from a big old Victorian house located at 1021 N.E. 33rd Avenue in Portland, Oregon, the turn of the century manse houses 75 of his devotees.

Many of the guru’s disciples are well educated and hold down jobs including lawyers and business managers.

The allegedly sleazy swami is the son of a nurse and pharmacist and was raised Catholic in Indiana. He dropped out of an Indiana university to become a supposed spiritual seeker at the age of 22. The young Shoemaker then hooked up with a Brooklyn born Jew named "Rudi" who called himself "Swami Rudrananda."

Shoemaker eventually joined Rudi’s ashram in Big Indian, New York. And he was amongst the 50 other full-time workers that built a thriving little consortium of guru businesses.

In 1971 Shoemaker went back to Indiana to open another branch for his mentor, but Rudrananda died two years later in a plane crash. Then the one-time pupil took over his teacher’s business and continued to build a kind of spiritual empire.

Another controversial teacher named Swami Muktananda, the Indian founder of Siddha Meditation, reportedly initiated Shoemaker and he thus became "Swami Chetanananda."

Shoemaker’s followers now run a yoga school and "Movement Center" called the "Rudrananda Ashram" that affects the lives of hundreds of Oregonians.

Many people that began as students reportedly eventually became devoted group members.

The Nityananda Institute, a tax-exempt church, is the umbrella organization over Shoemaker’s spiritual enterprises.

Former followers told the Oregonian that Chetanananda ran their lives, threatened those that wanted to leave and caused them psychological and spiritual damage.

Eleven of his former disciples say he had sex with them.

One woman claimed he took $400,000 from her and then lost the money in failed investments.

The guru did not respond to interview requests from the Oregonian and instead sent a prepared typed statement.

"I have never abused any women or children or men…I have never threatened any person who wanted to leave our community. I have never coerced anyone, period," said Shoemaker. He admitted having sex with consenting adult women.

The swami lamented, "I find it incomprehensible that people could say these things…It breaks my heart."

Ruth Knight, a devoted disciple of Shoemaker since 1986 defended her teacher. She explained, "It is said that simply to sit in the presence of a teacher brings great benefit." Knight dropped out of college to run the ashram’s kitchen.

Another follower Gunner Anderson who joined the group in 1974 claimed it has saved his life.

The Oregonian reported that the Shoemaker teaches his followers to "‘surrender’ the mind," which is achieved through a process of meditation.

"What surrender means is that you open yourself deeply: that you suspend your feelings of fear, resistance, doubt and misunderstanding…In this way you become a manifestation of the teaching," said Chetanananda in a group publication.

In 1978 Lawrence and Mary Eyink of Cincinnati reportedly abducted their son Dan in a failed attempt to deprogram him. Like Ruth Knight Dan Eyink had dropped out of college to follow Shoemaker. "It seemed like his eyes were dead…He had a mechanical smile," his father told the press. The 24-year-old reportedly cut off his family. Dan Eyink, now a doctor in his fifties, lives in Portland and still attends classes at Shoemaker’s ashram.

Veteran cult watcher and former Catholic priest Kent Burtner told the Oregonian that he had counseled some of the swami’s past followers.

City records reflect that some of Shoemaker’s disciples have held positions of influence in Portland. Sharon Ward, the guru’s sister-in-law and director of his institute has been chairwoman of the board of the Kearns Neighborhood Association. Ten other devotees have held elected position over the neighborhood that includes more than five thousand Portland residents.

Note: This article is based upon "In the Grip of the Guru - Part 1: Securing a spiritual empire" by Richard Read published by the Oregonian July 15, 2001.

"Absolute surrender" may lead to sex with guru

"Every authentic teacher you ever meet will also be a total rascal. I'm worse than that." – Chetanananda January 24, 1988

August 21, 2005
By Rick Ross

Dozens of former disciples told the Oregonian in Portland, Oregon that Swami Chetanananda exploited them financially, sexually and spiritually.

Former Boston bartender Dana Swift's life hit bottom in February 1988 and it was then that the young woman found the "Nityananda Institute."

She attended a Sunday open house to hear "Swami Chetanananda"; an American-born guru originally named J. Michael Shoemaker from Bloomington, Indiana.

Disciples taped the swami Shoemaker’s Sunday talks and he even had a "tape-of-the-month club."

Swift recalled that back then she had a craving for the swami's touted "divine energy," which left her feeling euphoric, eventually she would surrender herself totally to him, though he would ultimately be a disappointment.

"The teacher takes on the student's tensions and processes it and gives it back to the student as energy." -- Chetanananda March 13, 1988

Shoemaker/Chetanananda's closest followers always occupied the best seats in the ashram and chanted in unison. They experienced something called "shaktipat," Chetanananda would put his fingers between their eyebrows to supposedly funnel energy into them.

Disciples would groan when the guru from Indiana touched them, some convulsed even screamed.

Shoemaker/Chetanananda at one time owned four houses near the Radcliffe College campus and a bakery in Boston. He attracted some wealthy members. There was a newsletter and a retreat center on Martha's Vineyard, the island off Cape Cod.

"You can continuously choose to discover and live in a finer realm than the one you travel in," -- Chetanananda March 13, 1988.

After one evening lecture Swift noticed that swami Shoemaker’s favorite followers went upstairs. She watched Sharon Ward, a lawyer who was his right-hand disciple and administrator, walk up to the guru’s third-floor apartment with her husband John Robert "Bob" Shoemaker, the guru's brother. Swift yearned to be part of the guru’s inner circle, which included his select followers that had money, looks or some useful expertise.

"A real spiritual teacher does not in any way need to control you or your thinking." – Chetanananda April 24, 1988.

Upstairs, according to some of those that entered Chetanananda's private quarters, they ate from a buffet on a glass table set below track-lit Tibetan artwork. Disciples sat on pillows arranged on the floor facing their leader. Shoemaker sat above them on a plush leather armchair. He liked to watch the movie "Repo Man," with Emilio Estevez. The swami would give "shaktipat" to a disciple who then fell backward and he would continue watching the movie. Disciples washed his dishes, car, cleaned his apartment and picked up his clothes.

"Literally I have, you know, 20 people in my room from 8 o'clock in the morning 'til 10 o'clock at night. It's continuously changing, but it's there." -- Chetanananda April 24, 1988

In April 1988 Swift finally got her turn upstairs, but it reportedly ended up with the Shoemaker propositioning her.

Other female disciples provided similar accounts about Shoemaker/Chetanananda, despite his purported vow of celibacy in 1978 he apparently sought sex frequently.

Eleven of his former female followers told the Oregonian that Shoemaker had sex with them. Each gave detailed accounts, which were later corroborated. Women claimed their sexual encounters led ultimately to both emotional and psychological damage.

"Sex is never appropriate for a person in the role of counselor, psychologist, doctor or teacher," said one of the women, who says the guru seduced her after they each drank a bottle of wine in his suite within the Portland ashram.

Women said that they felt they couldn’t refuse the swami they trusted with their souls.

Shoemaker/Chetanananda refused repeated requests for an interview with the Oregonian. But provided a typed statement that stated he had "sexual relationships with mature, adult consenting women." He further explained that he renounced former vows and is not now celibate. "Anyone who is offended by the existence of such relationships simply should find a practice and a teacher with whom they agree," the swami said.

In 1997, Shoemaker advised, "For me, purity has nothing to do with what you eat or don't eat and who you sleep with…If living in a bordello and doing whatever every night is what helps you do it, that's fine, too. For me."

"If you're going to do any kind of deep experiencing . . . the first thing you're going to have to get through is that piece of plastic in your head called the mind. It's just Saran Wrap." -- Chetanananda May 11, 1988

One woman, who spoke on condition of anonymity told the Oregonian that she was once the guru’s lover and frequently submitted to him even after surgery while on painkillers. She believed that an omniscient being was making love to her.

But their sex was at times violent, painful and she came to fear Shoemaker.

In his prepared statement to the Oregonian the swami did not specifically respond to whether he had had violent sex with women, causing them injuries. "I am not violent," is all he said.

"Open yourself completely every day... Don't worry about the beauty or the pain of it...There's no growth without distress and disturbance." -- Chetanananda June 1988.

One woman says Chetanananda asked her to buy him a handgun for his collection. The last time she had sex with the guru was in 1996.

Another woman told the Oregonian the guru had sex with her twice while she was married. Yet another says she performed oral sex on him when he asked for it.

A Cambridge woman says Shoemaker/Chetanananda had sex with her about every six weeks for six years. The guru reportedly said that she should devote her energy to a spiritual path instead of having a boyfriend, and that he would try to be a boyfriend for her.

"I simply wanted him as a meditation teacher," she says. "I was incredibly naive and trusting and didn't know any better." The woman’s name was withheld in the press report.

"Being extra close to the guru means that you become extremely special," said one female disciple that had sex with Chetanananda three times. "You don't object. This is the guru, remember?"

Women described psychological and emotional scars from sexual relationships with the swami. "I honestly thought it was going to get me all the way…He led me to believe that he was the way to get [enlightenment], and if I didn't continue to participate there would be great harm to me."

Diane Asay, a current disciple of Shoemaker/Chetanananda told the Oregonian, "I've watched people climb all over people to get into his bed." She thinks all the women who shared information about sex with the swami are simply jealous former lovers out to hurt him.

"I don't get any points in heaven for all the people I brought in. I don't. It benefits you." -- Chetanananda July 23, 1988.

However, Swift was stunned when she found out her guru was not celibate in the summer of 1990.

Sex between gurus and disciples is common, sociologists and other experts say. The New Yorker magazine reported in November 1994 that female followers of deceased Swami Muktananda, the man who made Chetanananda a swami, had sex with them. Many devotees later left after learning about the sexual allegations.

One man told the Oregonian that his girlfriend’s revelation that she had sex with Chetanananda broke his heart. But the swami reportedly told him, "It's not a big deal…She made the advances; what was I supposed to do?"

"Now personally I think celibacy is total baloney. In India it's one thing. But here it's something totally different." -- Chetanananda, April 1992

Chetanananda was unhappy in Boston and wanted a new central headquarters. He learned that in Portland a place called Laurelhurst Manor, formerly a retirement home for sale at 1021 N.E. 33rd Ave. So in 1992 it was announced that the group would move to Portland, Oregon.

"Spiritual growth is about surrender, not about understanding. Whenever that part of you that wants to figure out, or know why, or what for, or so on or so forth, kicks in, kick it out. Kick it out." -- Chetanananda, in an April 21, 1993

Spring 1993, disciples loaded up the trucks and watched a crane hoist a stone Buddha out of their ashram, and they would follow Shoemaker now known as their "Swami Chetanananda" anywhere.

Note: This report was based upon an article titled "In the Grip of the Guru (part two) by Richard Read published by the Oregonian July 16, 2001

Former Bloomington swami under scrutiny once again

Hoosier Herald-Times/July 19, 2001
By Mike Leonard

J. Michael Shoemaker became a controversial figure almost immediately after the former Indiana University student from Connersville dropped his given name in 1971 to become Swami Chetanananda.

Some saw the Rudrananda Ashram he established at Eighth and Washington streets not as a spiritual center and living commune, but as the home of a cult that exploited seekers of spiritual guidance for sex, money and labor. Others saw the swami as a true spiritual master capable of enriching the lives of others through his unique melange of meditation, kundalini yoga and Eastern religious practices borrowing from Buddhism, Hinduism and Kashmir Shaivism.

The ashram and its related businesses - the vegetarian Tao Restaurant and Rudi's Bakeries - thrived in Bloomington. And the Rudrananda Ashram Foundation contributed significantly to the cultural life of Bloomington by underwriting lectures and arts performances. But allegations of exploitation dogged the ashram community until Chetanananda announced in 1982 that the group would leave Bloomington and relocate in Boston. The swami blamed negative press coverage as a major reason for the move.

The group operated with less publicity in Boston and continued to oversee satellite operations in several other U.S. cities. But after a decade, it announced that it needed more physical space to expand its operations and had acquired the once-opulent but rundown Laurelhurst Manor in Portland, Ore.

The group restored the manor and grounds as the Nityananda Institute and continued with its pattern of community outreach combined with an intensive spiritual component for people willing to forgo many worldly amenities for the discipline of study in the ashram.

But controversy continues to swirl around Chetanananda and his spiritual, sexual and financial practices. Last Sunday, The Oregonian newspaper launched a lengthy and in-depth four-part series that paints an extremely unflattering picture of Chetanananda and his associates.

Titled, "In the Grip of the Guru," the series by investigative reporter Richard Read invokes the ghosts of the Northwest's disastrous experience with the late Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh and chronicles the evolution of Chetanananda's group from its Bloomington beginnings to the present.

Read spent three years working on the project, interviewed more than 100 people and reviewed thousands of pages of property, bank, court and police documents. He also listened to dozens of hours of Chetanananda's taped lectures and participated in introductory meditation training at the institute.

The series is summarized by an editor's note that "dozens of ex- disciples accuse the guru of financial, sexual and spiritual abuse." In one installment, "A Broken Trust," 11 women described as "ex-disciples" say the swami betrayed their trust by seducing them. They describe severe personal and spiritual disillusionment because of their relationship with Chetanananda.

Another story in the series, "The High Price of Enlightenment," seems to suggest that some followers have lost hundreds of thousands of dollars in failed investments in the Nityananda Institute and its enterprises. But some who defend the swami and his practices also are included in the stories. Pat Tarzian, described as a 13-year member of the group, says, "Nobody worships him; he's just a very, very fine and extremely caring person."

And Daniel Eyink, who became the subject of intense media scrutiny when his parents abducted him from the Cincinnati ashram in 1978 and claimed he had been brainwashed by the swami, is described as a physician who continues to attend meditation classes with the group in Portland.

Read, the two-time Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist who conducted the investigation and wrote all of the articles, says he's proud of both the content and scope of his investigation. "This was such an interesting challenge," he said late Wednesday. "It was investigative reporting with narrative journalism. Putting the two together was really interesting."

He refused to characterize what conclusions the reader might draw from the piece. Nityananda Institute spokeswoman Sharon Ward had not returned a call asking for comment by press time, but Chetanananda, who refused to be interviewed for the series, submitted a five-page written response to questions last week, strongly repudiating the newspaper's questions regarding possible abuses.

Chetanananda last visited Bloomington in 1999 to take the Dalai Lama's sacred Kalachakra Initiation. There is some irony, therefore, in Read's sidebar story about the rise of "cottage cults" in America.

Read notes that the leader of Tibetan Buddhism cautions all spiritual seekers to review a guru's qualifications before following that person's advice. "Whenever exploitation, sexual abuse or money abuse happen," the Dalai Lama says, "make them public." The Oregonian's series, "In the Grip of the Guru," can be read on the Internet at www.oregonlive.com/special/guru/.