or well structured, built-in structures to help both the student and teacher navigate the psychological complexities that arise for each of them often go lacking.
I will end the presentation of this paradox with the answer that Andrew Cohen (in Chapter 12) gave me in one of the interviews I did with him for this book, when I asked him why he thought Krishnamurti insisted he was not a teacher.
ANDREW COHEN
ANDREW: I think that’s because Krishnamurti was aware of the transference and projection that too often happens when people meet genuinely enlightened teachers. He wanted people to take responsibility for themselves and be mature. He was reacting to many of the difficult problems that tend to arise around powerful and charismatic spiritual teachers. Ironically, while he was doing this, he was denying who he really was. He himself was brilliant, radiant and obviously deeply enlightened. He liked to pretend he was not any different than anybody else, but it wasn’t true, and he knew it. He knew he was in touch with a level of depth and heightened consciousness that most people are oblivious to. And to be honest, when someone is so much more awake than others, they can’t really hide it. It’s not only obvious to them, but to all others who have the eyes to see. The light of consciousness shines through them with so much more power, depth and intelligence that it’s almost unavoidable. The “Guru Principle” was alive and active in that extraordinary man, even though he did his very best to appear to be no different than anyone else.
CHAPTER 2
SPIRITUAL FRIEND OR GURU?
The disciple must resort to the feet of a wise teacher, one who is an embodiment of that Teacher Who is already in his heart, the Eternal Wisdom…. [H]e needs the guidance of one who, because his whole being has become one with the Wisdom, can speak with the same voice as that Teacher in the heart and yet can do so in tones which can be heard with the outer ear.
–SRI KRISHNA PREM, THE YOGA OF THE BHAGAVAT GITA
[The Buddha] stated that the Dharma teacher acts as a spiritual friend (kalyana mitta) as well as an authority figure since the teacher belongs to the Sangha of practitioners.
–CHRISTOPHER TITMUSS, THE BUDDHA OF LOVE
First and foremost, a teacher is not a friend. If we really want to awaken, we do not need friendship but rather more unpredictability.
–THOMAS HÜBL, INTEGRALESFORUM.ORG
STEPHEN FULDER
Stephen Fulder was one of my early interviewees. We met for the interview at the Tovana Sangha House in Tel Aviv, where he spends a couple of days a week, a three-hour bus ride from his home in the Upper Galilee. Tovana, the Hebrew word for Vipassanā or “insight,” is the name of a leading Buddhist practice organization in Israel, which Stephen founded more than thirty years ago, and where he functions as a senior Dharma teacher. The apartment’s cool air and quiet and serene atmosphere were a relief from the hot, busy city streets outside, whose sounds were muffled by the closed windows and the hiss of the air conditioner.
AMIR: Let’s start with you as a student—who were your teachers or people you still consider as your teachers nowadays?
STEPHEN: In the Theravada tradition that I’ve been practicing and involved with, the principle of a single primary teacher—root guru or Satguru—is not relevant, and so I’ve had plenty of teachers. My first teacher was S.N. Goenka, but the relationship with him was impersonal, as he was teaching thousands of students. In Goenka’s tradition, based on a Burmese lineage, the teachers teach the practice rather technically and don’t really relate to you as an individual and to your issues or your life. They are masters at passing on to you a technique and motivating and encouraging you to practice intensively.
AMIR: But even though you say there was no personal relationship with Goenka and he was just communicating the teaching in a very technical way, there was something about him that made him a better vehicle for the teaching than many other teachers in that tradition. There was a reason why you went to see him and not hundreds of other teachers. What I’m aiming at is that there is something about the person that is an important factor in the transmission of the teaching.
STEPHEN: Yes, I only did one retreat with Goenka himself, who is charismatic and inspiring, and after that I did about a dozen with Sayama. She came from the same tradition as Goenka, and they both had the same teacher. Why I kept going back to her is an interesting question. I think it’s because she embodied a very finely tuned and subtle understanding of practice. I really respected her extraordinary power of mind, her Samadhi, and how she brought this into the practice. There was something about her that was crystal clear—as if she was coming from a subtle awareness and a space that I could trust, that did not embody a lot of belief or tradition or control. She radiated a present moment awareness that was very big, free, unbounded, powerful and deserved respect.
Also, Sayama was one of the few teachers I met in my life that clearly had extraordinary powers. She would often answer my questions before I asked them. I would come into her room with a question in my mind and she would immediately start to answer it and so I didn’t need to say anything. So in terms of a student-teacher relationship there was definitely more content, flow and dynamism than the relationship with Goenka.
AMIR: Would you say that in your relationship with Sayama there was a spiritual intimacy or deep connection? Because what you described about her ability to know what’s on your mind and respond—that must have something to do with knowing each other very well or communicating on a deep level.
STEPHEN: Not exactly. There was deep communication but it was not at all personal. It was technique oriented. She didn’t know me or was interested in me as Stephen, with a certain character and personality. I don’t think she really cared about me that much. She was dedicated to understanding and guiding my experiences, on a specific well-trodden path within the frame of reference of the practice. There is a benefit in this dedication, but also a cost, since it is a bit like a parent only relating to their child according to how well they do at school. A lot will be missing, for example the ability to know the gifts and inner life of each person and so guide the practice more holistically and individually.
Since then, I’ve met many teachers who I sat with and talked to, and though I wouldn’t say they were major teachers in my life, they certainly helped me on the road. Some of those really did have a much more personal relationship with me, such that in a way we never forgot each other. There are a few who I would say have been more significant guides, friends and co-travelers along the way, including Fred von Allman, Joseph Goldstein and particularly Christopher Titmuss, who I have been close to for more than thirty years, and for whom I have enormous respect and appreciation as a friend, a teacher and a colleague.
I want to stress that teaching happens at several levels at once, not all of which may be consciously known by the student. There is the guiding in which the teacher as a kind of tour guide defines the path and the way and supports the student along it. There is the imparting of verbal knowledge, inspiration and hints of what is beyond. There is the modeling, in which the teacher radiates a more invisible way of being. Teaching can also happen when the teacher mirrors or reflects back to you something you asked or did, offering a larger, freer and wiser perspective, and in that moment they become teachers of yours, although it’s not consciously a teacher-student relationship in any way. Once I was in India on a six-week self-retreat, in a small room in an ashram, and there was a spiritual teacher teaching in a nearby ashram. He used to come to my room at 5:30 in the morning every couple of days and we would sit and talk. He would first of all kiss my feet, which is of course an Indian way of expressing his appreciation for my practice, and I bowed to his feet as well because the appreciation was mutual. Then we would talk and I felt that any question I threw out was answered from a huge space, as if throwing a pebble into a great
