I had a Skype call with Andrew a little while ago. This is my account of it.
The tenor of the conversation was friendly for the most part, and even during the periods of mild tension, it was still mutually respectful. We showed each other our pets, and I cradled my pet rat Chiska in my hands for most of the conversation. I felt warmth and affection towards him for the most part, and I believe he felt the same. To a degree, he freely admitted his mistakes, admitting that over the years as a teacher there was a huge amount of evidence that something was wrong that he ignored. He talked about being overly critical of other spiritual teachers and his own teacher in the early days, and of being naively ignorant of much of what was involved in being a human being and a teacher. There were some other things we talked about I don't recall, but there was a sense of agreement. We discussed treating people as means rather than ends.
I brought up some of the darker episodes I indirectly experienced as his student, the pseudo amputation of a finger of a fellow student, the formal women at the lake. He expressed remorse for these and acknowledged he'd done horrible things. When I brought up his lack of response to students since the first apology, he didn't respond, and I'm not sure that made it in. I didn't push too long on that; I'm not sure I'd want him to start writing letters because someone told him he should.
The major points of disagreement were two. The first arose when I asked Andrew what the so called "holocaust" was all about, why had he done all that. He seemed surprised that I would ask that question as though I didn't know, when he'd explained it so many times before. Then he gave an explanation he could have given 14 years ago--the formal students were stuck, we were happy with the way things were, he needed to put pressure on us to make something happened. I was genuinely surprised, although I suppose I shouldn't have been. After so much time has passed, after admitting to doing so much that was genuinely wrong and harmful, the story he tells about his basic motivation hasn't changed even a bit. I argued with him. I invoked the second tenet, and said it was impossible to reconcile this image of himself with the actions he performed, which bordered on sadism. I read the piece from my blog, "The Liberated Ego" to him. I don't think that helped.
The second point came up when he brought up something I'd written a couple years ago he said another student had shown him (it's currently on my blog under "Hold onto Nothing). He asked with concern if I really thought that he had orchestrated the breakthrough the formal men experienced and that nothing really happened. I was gratified both that he remembered that passage and that that point seemed to disturb him. While I qualified it a little, saying one couldn't literally say nothing happened, that there were shifts and various insights among everyone throughout our involvement with him, fundamentally, I was confident whatever happened was not the historical shift in consciousness he had described it as, and that he had orchestrated that event because he needed one. I also said I was convinced that as long as he held onto that conviction of a break through, that he'd never be able to respond to his former students,that he'd remain fundamentally unchanged. I reminded him I'd originally believed in the picture he'd painted myself, and I described the moment when everything deflated for me, when I realized that great drama between the impersonal forces of enlightenment and ego was all an illusion, how I was an actor in an imaginary drama in Andrew's mind. He of course confidently declared I was wrong. He said that two seemingly contradictory views were both true, and denying either was to miss the whole picture; it was true he'd made terrible mistakes and did awful things, and at the same time it was true a fundamental breakthrough did occur. I said that view was madness, and so long as he held on to it he would remain stuck. My response seemed to disappoint him, and he expressed regret that I viewed it all as B.S. I felt compassion for him, through much of this I was almost pleading with him, if he didn't face this, nothing was going to happen. But unsurprisingly we did not come together here, and we had to agree to disagree.
Overall, he's very much as others who've met with him have described him. On one level, he is looking into things, he is acknowledging the wrong he's done. On another level, he is fundamentally unchanged. And I believe Harry's post on Elizabeths' blog was perfectly on the mark; he's still holding on.
So I was satisfied with the call but not because of anything Andrew said. Going in, I don't believe I wanted anything from him. All I wanted was to say what I needed to say. I believe I did that, and as a result I feel unburdened. I feel I satisfied the contract I had with him from so long ago. While I found to my surprise I did care for him and I do hope he can open his eyes, at the same time what he does with what I told him (and what plenty of other people have told him as well) is up to him. People change when they are ready to change and not a moment before. And at this point, having said what I needed to say, until he responds it simply isn't my problem anymore.
I'm still fascinated with this phenomenon, that a human being falls in love with an image or an ideal representing love, and becomes blind to the real thing. I don't understand it, but I've seen, and even experienced it myself. I was unable to acknowledge the nature of the abuse I'd seen with my own eyes, until after I'd let go of the idea that I'd been involved in some noble struggle for humanity, and when I did, everything became clear. I hope Andrew may also eventually be able to let go of that idea. But in the mean time, I am not going to hold my breath.
Addendum:
There is something I forgot to mention which is significant. One of the issues I pressed Andrew on was my fellow student, who he had hand undergo a fake finger amputation. Of course the doctor was directed to end it at the last moment, but the student was emotionally shattered. He left soon after. When I pressed Andrew on this, expressed remorse. He said, "I lost a good man." Do I have to point that that man was never Andrew's to lose in the first place? But that's how he worded it. We were his, and he expressed remorse in "losing" one of us. I think that is also the source of his comment to me, "I'm sorry you think it was all bullshit." To me what that meant he was sorry that I did not share his vision anymore, that I was not part of his enterprise anymore, that I was no longer his. We no longer had a relationship. And he was sorry that was the case.
