Deepak Chopra, New Age Guru--Deepak Chopra, M.D. (from India) was on the
cover of the 10/20 Newsweek and described as an endocrinologist, educator,
author, lecturer, Hollywood guru and scribe of the Playboy essay "Does God
Have Orgasms?" With seven new spiritual laws and plans for a global empire,
his enterprises bring in about $15 million a year. Newsweek says: "For
people who rebelled against the inconveniences of mainstream religions-thou
shalt not-Chopra offers an appealingly well-padded path to nirvana. `They
say you have to give up everything to be spiritual,' he says, `get away from
the world, all that junk. I satisfy a spiritual yearning without making
[people] think they have to worry about God and punishment.'" Deepak Chopra
M.D.-Interviewed him for AZ ,another Tokyo magazine back in '92 before he
was Time front cover material. Tremendously eloquent and tremendously
conceited. Learned from him that New Age heros appear to be great teachers
but there is a catch..
Barbara Marx Hubbard-Buckie Fuller called her the most informed person on
the subject of futurism today. He was right. Her book 'The evolutionary
journey' is oft quoted in Merging Point. She is scientific and spiritual and
does not carry herself around like Deepak Chopra. Sorry Deepak but you blew it.
The interview was conducted in Portland, Oregon in 1992 and was published in
Japanese in the Tokyo magazine AZ. The English original will someday be
resurrected from my archives as it was rather interesting one. I asked him a
crucial question: " Since our cells constantly die and are replaced all the
time, at varying speeds in different systems like the vascular, the muscular
etc then why do diseased cells continue to exist...would you agree that all
illnes is thus based in MEMORY?" To his credit he answered in the
affirmative...part of the interview is below..
http://www.rainbowjaguars.com/chopraint.html
The winning mantra
http://www.jang.com.pk/thenews/nov2000-daily/06-11-2000/oped/o3.htm Khalid
Hasan
He looks like General Noriaga whom the people of Panama called the
pineapple, though his face is less pitted than that of the Central American
dictator. However, in terms of good looks it is a toss-up between the two.
It is hard to imagine any woman swooning over either of them, though what
can you say about women when it comes to what their magazines call matters
of the heart! After all, didn't our own Nadaan Nadira fall hook, line and
sinker for VS Naipaul minutes after setting eyes on him and then actually
went on to marry him and live in perfidious Albion? Alas!
But this is not about the now-unreachable former Letter-from-Bahawalpur lady
but this man called Deepak Chopra who, if the Los Angeles Times is to be
believed, earns a cool $15 million a year and is known in this country
called the United States of America as the New Age guru. What he sells for
millions can be had for free in any Indian or Pakistani city if you take a
walk on the street or simply stand on the roadside looking distracted. Nine
out of ten, someone will walk up to you and promise to solve your spiritual
and emotional problems by the casting of a simple spell or the intonation of
a few magic lines.
Deepak Chopra, who looks like a Punjabi peasant and no doubt is one, sells
peace of mind to the Americans. He is also a best-selling author whose books
are a hotch potch of Hindu sadhu lore, pop Vedanta, light transcendental
meditation, self-help auto-suggestions, fake sufi methodology, post-Freudian
psychology, voodoo science, a sprinkling of modern medicine and truckloads
of mumbo jumbo. But they sell and they sell in hundreds of thousands. Though
one can review a book very well without reading it, I did read one that is
considered Chopra's most famous work. I sailed through it in less time than
it takes to toss an omelette (whites only please). It was a compendium of
miraculous cures, the kind promised from Landi Kotal to Karachi or from
Amritsar to Ras Kumari by veds, hakims, faqirs, sadhus, yogis and operators
of facilities called the German Health Centre.
A retired Texas rancher who always complained of migraines was advised to
seek a cure at the Chopra Centre for Well Being. While his headaches did not
quite go, he did learn why he was having them. He was told that they were
the result of a blow on the head he had received in an earlier birth as a
Roman legionnaire. The Centre is located in La Jolla, a suburb of San Diego
in California (where else!). The place contains a hybrid spa and a manicured
clinic. It is the operational base of what one magazine has called the
world's most successful marketeer of New Age philosophies. It is another
matter that these philosophies are as old as the hills, their principal
object being to put as much distance between a fool and his money as possible.
The Centre receives around 3,000 pilgrims every year. Some of them are
trying to lose weight, others want to get out of a bad marriage or get used
to a bad marriage, still others are looking for that elusive bird, peace of
mind, but for whose suspected existence all confidence tricksters would go
out of business. A popular package is the five-day Vital Energy course which
costs $2,900 and claims to eliminate fatigue. Also on offer are spa
treatments, including facials, massages, herbal wraps and Ayrovedic
medicines. The Chopra massage is not just a massage but something called
reiki chakra. The soul is soothed first, the shoulders later, as one person
put it.
Then there is a programme called Creating Health which consists of
meditation, three vegetarian meals a day (no place this for Lahoris), yoga,
instructional classes and a brief chat with the Master himself. This costs
$1,700, but if you have $25,000 and an hour to spare, you can talk to Dr
Chopra, formerly of New Delhi, and have your ills cured, from that nagging
headache to those painful corns of the soul. One man who joined a group of
eight to get a feel of the Chopra treatment for body and soul, later wrote
that they all had to fill in a form so that their Ayrovedic body type or
dosha could be established. Each one had to describe his (or her) body
shape, state whether or not he had a penetrating gaze and confess if he was
guilty of sarcasm, insomnia, dandruff or flatulence. Answers were provided
on that basis and they were told what they should eat, what massages they
were to purchase and what they needed to correct the imbalances in their
lives, as therein lay the solution to their problems.
Chopra told the pilgrims that to cure an out-of-synch dosha, they had to eat
certain foods at certain times of the day. Those who could not manage the
necessary discipline, were told to go to the gift shop called The Store of
Infinite Possibilities and buy $10 packs of dosha correctors or Chopra's
personal brand of spices, vitamins and digestive aids. If anyone was in the
mood for a splurge, there were astrological readings to be had. They were
told that when they left the Centre, they would walk out with a new model in
life, having acquired the wherewithal to choose health, be happy and cure
themselves.
One of the entrants to a course at the Centre wrote later that the days are
physically passive. Though we are advised to surround ourselves with nature,
there is no scheduled exercise, nor even walks on the gorgeous beaches
around the Centre. Our yoga classes are as mild as can be, with virtually no
poses that require exertion. The treatments, on the other hand, facials,
body scrubs, herbal wraps, and 10 types of massage (including an astonishing
hot-oil-Pizichilli treatment, $210) feel absolutely fantastic (at that
price, yes). Chopra keeps all bases covered. One of the participants asked
at the end of the stint if he should give up conventional medicine but was
advised against it. Instead of dancing around the fire, we have CAT scans,
said the master.
Now there you have a winning formula. If the mumbo jumbo and the hot-oil
Pizichilli massage does work, the CAT scan will. Maybe instead of running
after those hard-to-please grey men at the IMF, we should ask Chopra for the
right mantra. It might even work.
The art of the spiritual smackdown Deepak Chopra, the high lama of
litigation, may be a pussycat on TV, but cross him in the courtroom and
you'll have a tiger on your tail.
- - - - - - - - - - -
http://www.salon.com/people/feature/2000/03/07/chopra/index.html
By Stephen Lemons
March 7, 2000 | "You know how you find God?" joked New Age guru Deepak
Chopra in his deep, resonant voice. "Have a lawsuit with Joyce Weaver."
Chopra was riffing on the title of his recent book "How to Know God" as well
as making a catty reference to his tangled, five-year legal battle with
Weaver, a former employee of the now-defunct Sharp Center for Mind-Body
Medicine in Del Mar, Calif., where Chopra once worked.
The La Jolla-based author has made a name for himself as a spiritual advisor
to such notables as Demi Moore, Sharon Stone, Michael Jackson and even
President Clinton. But he's also garnered notoriety through his frequent
visits to the courtroom.
According to press reports in the London Sunday Times and the San Diego
Union-Tribune, Chopra's legal woes started back in 1995 when prostitute Judy
Bangert left a message on the voice mail of one of Chopra's colleagues at
Sharp, saying that she'd had sex with Chopra.
Weaver, an administrative aide at Sharp, heard the message and taped it.
Chopra claims Weaver tried to blackmail him with the information. Weaver
then filed a sexual harassment claim against Chopra, which was later
dismissed. Ever the lion in the courtroom, Chopra sued Weaver for the
alleged blackmail, a case he lost unanimously in January before a San Diego
jury.
Undaunted, Chopra vowed to fight on, telling reporters, "Maybe it is my
karma to dismantle the corruption in the San Diego judicial system." Chopra
had better luck against the Weekly Standard, the ultra-right-wing rag owned
by media titan Rupert Murdoch's News Corp. In July 1996, the Weekly Standard
ran a cover story on the prostitute's tales of expensive sexual liaisons
with the bestselling author and proponent of alternative medicine.
Chopra, 53, hit the Weekly Standard with a $35 million lawsuit, referring to
it as "an act of love" meant to lift the magazine to "a higher state of
awareness." In the end, Bangert retracted her claims of sex with Chopra and
the Weekly Standard coughed up a $1.6 million settlement, according to
Chopra, and an abject apology, which the paper printed in June 1997.
The most recent act in this bizarre legal drama finds Indian-born Chopra
defending himself against a suit by Weaver that claims retaliation by Chopra
because of Weaver's original sexual harassment claim and wrongful
termination from her position at Sharp.
Monday afternoon the San Diego jury returned a unanimous verdict in his
favor. Just two days earlier, I spoke with Chopra by phone (he was in
Chicago on a promotional book tour). In a candid conversation sprinkled with
self-deprecating remarks, he discussed his reputation as a tough-as-nails
litigant and his charges of venality in the San Diego legal system, among
other matters.
Will this trial be a fair one for you?
I do think so, yes. You know, judges have their own interpretations of
certain things and can influence the jury. But we've got a very eminent
jurist on this case right now. It's difficult to criticize him really. He
has an impeccable record, and I think he's very fair. If I lose, I won't be
able to blame anyone.
What was the problem with your previous experiences with the San Diego
judiciary?
In any system, but particularly in San Diego, there's a lot of cronyism,
power-mongering and influence-peddling. Basically, they all hang at the same
club and do each other favors.
Ever since I started speaking out about this, I've gotten thousands of
e-mails, faxes and letters from people who've had the same thing happen to
them. If you're not a law firm from San Diego, forget it. It's all inside
power-mongering.
Why have you fought such a vigorous legal battle with Ms. Weaver?
The easy way out, always, is to give in. Somebody blackmails or attacks you,
give in. But it also puts things out there which are not true. I can't do
that. I don't know how to surrender to these opportunists who see you in the
public eye and try to embarrass you so they can make some money. But I've
learned not to have the sense of personal outrage about it. First of all --
it doesn't work. Secondly, it's unhealthy. And thirdly, it brings you down
to their level. Unfortunately, it costs a lot more money [not to give in],
but you have to do it.
The San Diego Union-Tribune has reported that this legal battle has cost you
$1 million, is this true? More than that, actually. I should have just paid
off. (Laughs) Why do you think Ms. Weaver is suing you? Well, she's already
made money on this. She sued Sharp, Dr. David Simon [Chopra's colleague at
Sharp] and me. Sharp and Simon paid her off, because they said it's more
expensive to litigate. But you see, they're not in the public eye. If I paid
her off, it would make headlines. Does a lawsuit like this hurt your
reputation?
It does. But that's part of life. You can't do anything about it. Now, I
just want to bring it to a conclusion in a manner that will ultimately
reveal the truth. It may not, and I may have to say, "OK, I give up." But to
the extent I can do it, I will.
What was your relationship with Ms. Weaver before all this happened? She
worked for Sharp. She used to show slides for me in my lectures. My contact
with her was in the first three months of her employment with Sharp. After
that, she worked for another year-and-a-half at Sharp. Then there was a
general layoff at Sharp. Everyone was laid off and she was one of them.
The art of the spiritual smackdown | page 1, 2 About the Weekly Standard
article and your lawsuit against them: Why do you think they were going
after you to begin with?
The Weekly Standard is a conservative, right-wing publication. The editors
allowed that story to be published despite being told they were going to be
given [opposing] evidence. But after we sued, they retracted. And they paid
us $1.6 million. So I made some money there -- and I got the apology.
Are you a Democrat? Yeah. Do you think that was part of it too? Yes. The
Weekly Standard has constantly attacked anyone who's liberal. And that was
part of the fact that the editors allowed it to happen. Now after the
settlement and everything, I have very good relationships with people at
News Corp. -- at the highest levels. We might even do business together.
This was something that was not at the highest levels of News Corp. It was
at the level of the Weekly Standard and down.
Why do conservatives, especially fundamentalist Christians, take offense to
you? You should probably ask them. But Mr. Pat Robertson has done television
programs where he's called me Satan. But fundamentalists also fight other
Christians who are a little more liberal than them. Their whole thing is
fear-based, anyway. Are you more of a doctor or a spiritual leader? Neither.
Right now I think of myself as a writer who is sharing his ideas in books,
lectures and seminars. And there's a big segment of the population who
relates to these ideas. But I'm never going to take on leadership. I don't
have the slightest desire. One chapter of your book "The Seven Spiritual
Laws of Success" deals with the law of karma. How do you think that karmic l
aw applies here, in this lawsuit?
It's teaching me great lessons. That I should not get upset. That I should
be more patient and more humble. That I should learn how to go beyond
emotional turbulence. So I think the laws of karma are working as clues and
messages of love from some domain, telling me, "Deepak, relax! Take it easy!
In 50 years we'll all be dead. It won't matter." Your public persona is of a
gentle, nurturing, spiritual individual, and yet many people regard you as
quite litigious and a real barracuda in the courtroom. Is there any conflict
there?
I think your primitive, primordial self emerges when you're attacked
personally and you know it's a lie. Three days ago when I was in the
courtroom, Mr. Friesen (Weaver's lawyer) started to distort what I was
saying. So I looked at the judge, and said, "Your honor, he's trying to
bully me." And before the judge could say anything, I looked at Friesen and
I said, "You're a bully. Do you know that, Bully?" (Laughs) And the judge
says, "Strike it. Strike that!" He didn't want the jurors to hear it.
When someone's distorting your testimony because they want to make a million
bucks, your survival instincts come out. But generally speaking, I'm not a
barracuda, not even in court.
Did you know that there are some journalists who are afraid to write about
you, for fear of being sued?
If they've written lies, they've been taken to task. Every time someone has
written an outrageous lie in a malicious manner, they've had to retract it.
But there has to be malicious intent. Everybody has a right to their
interpretation, but when somebody willfully and maliciously lies then I
think they have to retract it because otherwise it goes on your record.
You seem to inspire extreme reactions in people -- they either really admire
or dislike you. Why is that? I'm successful. (He sighs.) I'm very
successful. People think I make a lot of money, but they don't realize that
I spend a lot of money. But it's totally natural that when you're in the
public eye there are some people who are going to love you and some people
who are going to hate you. Your image is always going to be defiled, because
the image is never going to conform to reality.
Can I get a comment from you after the verdict? You can have it now. Either
way -- if I lose or if I win -- the comment is going to be the same. And
that is, "Everything is as it should be." We can't control the big picture.
We can only try.
salon.com | March 7, 2000
http://www.salon.com/people/feature/2001/05/10/allgood/index.html
It's all good: The appeal of Deepak Chopra What pulls people like Michael
Jackson, Demi Moore and Bill Clinton to this spiritual tycoon? Is it a
hunger for wonders or lack of sense?
- - - - - - - - - - - -
By David Beers
May 10, 2001
I am reading "How To Know God" by Deepak Chopra as I sit in
Helen's Grill, a greasy spoon near my home in Vancouver, British Columbia.
Outside the window in the rain, framed within the newspaper vending box, is
the face of a young, beautiful girl. Next to that face is headline type, big
and black: "'Amazing' teen killed in Whistler crash." For some reason the
words reinforce the illusion that the little vinyl and Formica world of
Helen's Grill is a shared refuge, a place immune to life's random ravages.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Deepak Chopra, the spiritual instructor who appears on Larry King and Oprah,
the alternative healer with the handsome looks of a Hollywood movie star,
the personal source of inspiration to Michael Jackson, Naomi Judd and Bill
Clinton, has sold 10 million books.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here is some of what Chopra, a former endocrinologist in Boston hospitals,
believes and teaches:
a.. That a person is a field of vibrating energy, information and
intelligence connected to the entire cosmos;
a.. That this view is
substantiated by Ayurvedic medicine of ancient India as well as theories of
quantum physics;
a.. That all organs of the body are built up from a specific sequence of
vibrations, and that when organs are sick they are vibrating improperly;
a.. That certain herbs and aromas, when applied, can help restore proper
vibrations to malfunctioning liver, heart, stomach, etc.;
a.. That certain gems and crystals can rejuvenate human skin;
a.. That good thoughts can heal the body and reverse the aging process;
a.. That people can levitate and that he, while sitting and meditating, has
flown a distance of four feet;
a.. That one can know God at seven different levels corresponding to
physical and psychological reactions in the brain, and that miracles,
including visits by angels and reincarnated relatives, occur when a person
leaves the material level of existence and intersects a "transitional" level
called the "quantum domain";
a.. That anyone following his methods can achieve "unlimited wealth" and a
"brilliantly blissful life."
Chopra does not believe reports that he once described himself as "just a
regular guy with the gift of gab." As he told me in a recent conversation,
"I am just a regular guy. But I don't have the gift of gab. I wish I did."
When not on the speaking circuit, Deepak Chopra is at work on his 27th book
and adding to his more than 100 audio, video and CD-ROM titles, while
presiding over the Chopra Center for Well Being in La Jolla, Calif.
Go to Web sites like Skeptic's Dictionary, The Shameless Mind and
Quackwatch, and you will find all the ammunition of scientific rationalism
aimed at Chopra.
He is said to have misconstrued quantum physics. "Deepak Chopra has
successfully promoted a notion he calls quantum healing, which suggests we
can cure all our ills by the application of sufficient mental power," writes
Victor J. Stenger, professor emeritus of physics and astronomy at the
University of Hawaii, in the Skeptical Inquirer. Many words and diagrams
later, Stenger concludes that "no compelling argument or evidence requires
that quantum mechanics plays a central role in human consciousness or
provides instantaneous, holistic connections across the universe."
Chopra's sweeping claims for Ayurvedic healing -- a 2,000-year-old tradition
rooted in astrology, demonology and balancing energy through diet and
exercise -- come under similar assault. "As far as I can tell," writes Stephen
Barrett, M.D. in Quackwatch, "Chopra has neither published nor personally
conducted any scientific studies testing whether the methods he promotes
help people become healthier or live longer." A lot of other credentialed
scientists take their runs at Chopra's "factual errors" and "absurd ideas."
All of them are wasting their time, because their angle of attack cleanly
misses the appeal of Chopra today. What pulls people to Chopra is their
yearning to pull free of scientific rationality, or, more accurately, to
escape the unenchanted world that two centuries of the Age of Reason has
bequeathed us.
Theodore Roszak offered an interesting take on this impulse a couple of
decades ago in an essay for Harper's titled "In Search of the Miraculous."
He remembers being taught in college in the 1950s that God was dead, killed
by the scientific revolution. But it didn't take with the wider public,
where flourishes "highly personal, emotionally electrifying versions of
Christianity" as well as the sort of New Age mysticism championed by
Chopra and his ilk.
Roszak sees a great cultural divide. At the top stands "a secular humanist
establishment devoted to the skeptical, the empirical, the scientifically
demonstrable" which is out of touch with "a vast popular culture that is
still deeply entangled with piety, mystery, miracle, the search for personal
salvation."
There are two ways to interpret this split, writes Roszak. The first is to
roll one's eyes, to blame "the hunger for wonders" on "incurable human
frailty, an incapacity to grow up and grow rational." If so, "sadly one
would have to conclude that the masses are not yet mature enough to give up
their infantile fantasies."
But that's not how Roszak reads it. The second view, his own, is to see "the
psyche at war" with itself. Each of us contains a critical intellect, but
also "the innate human need for transcendence." Philosophy used to bridge
the gap, but today's postmodernists have nothing to offer in that vein,
having made a fetish instead out of "deconstructing" language rather than
asking the questions of Socrates: What is the good? What is life's purpose?
--------------------------------------------------
Roszak argues that when super-rational scientists and academics "scorn and
scold, debunk and denigrate more fiercely" the longing for wonder within
each of us, it is "like scolding starving people for eating out of garbage
cans, while providing them no more wholesome food." Over the phone, Deepak
Chopra demonstrates his grasp of the opportunity presented. "People have
always wondered, 'Who am I? Where do I come from?
What is the meaning of existence? Is there a God? Does he care about me? Is
the Earth just a capricious anomaly in the junkyard of infinity? What the
heck is going on?'"
Those indeed are questions that war within our psyches, even as they resist
the withering skepticism of science as their answer. A further question,
however, is this. Why do so many people believe the answers provided by
Deepak Chopra?
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Part of the answer to that lies outside the window of Helen's Grill, in that
terrifying haiku of a headline. "'Amazing' teen killed in Whistler crash."
To read it is to want a reason, and a method of evading whatever cruelness
kills teenagers who thought they'd kill a day snowboarding, whatever
cruelness may next touch us.
In his many books, tapes, lectures, product catalogs and appearances, Chopra
is saying what teenagers, among others, like to say these days: "It's all
good." He's saying that . . .
No claim of the miraculous, the magical can be ruled out. "Some people
vibrate at a frequency of consciousness such that that they can see an
angel; far more can vibrate at a frequency to perceive an automobile,"
Chopra tells me. He explains that nothing is real except consciousness, and
so whatever your consciousness experiences -- clairvoyance, astral
projection, channeling, visits by ghosts or aliens -- is real for that
person. I ask: "So there is no way for anyone else to evaluate whether that
experience is real?" Chopra answers, "You have no way to evaluate it." You
need accept no limits, physical or financial. Noting that the title of one
of his books is "Creating Affluence: Wealth Consciousness in the Field of
All Possibilities,"
I tell Chopra I was raised by my Catholic mother to curb material longing,
to remember Christ's teachings about the rich man and the eye of the needle.
Growing up blue-collar in the Depression era, this teaching no doubt
afforded her people some comfort. Chopra replies that "wealth is an
expression of the spirit" and that because those without money always obsess
about getting it, "the solution is to help everybody have wealth."
But is there a conflict between desiring wealth, and seeking God? "Why
should material success be an impediment to spirituality?" he responds.
"Keep increasing your desires until nothing satisfies you except God.
Wanting material wealth is part of that." Chopra himself has the lifestyle
and some of the problems of a rich celebrity. He's spent a lot of time in
court fighting those he claims are out to ruin his good name and extort his
money. In one case he won a $1.6 million dollar settlement and apology from
the Weekly Standard magazine, which he says libeled him with a prostitute
story. More recently, he dropped a lawsuit against a former co-worker he
claims was trying to blackmail him.
But Chopra is adamant that wealth has not changed him. "If I have the
ability to create wealth, why would I think about it? Where my wealth comes
from is inexhaustible. Consciousness is the source of anything, and that
includes wealth. And consciousness is without limits."
You -- not nature, God or dumb luck -- determine your fate.
"Happy thoughts change molecules" is one of Chopra's common declarations.
Happy thoughts can defeat a specific disease like cancer, and they can stop
the aging process.
"If you can wiggle your toes with a mere flicker of an intention, why can't
you reset your biological clock?" he has said. "The reason most people can't
do it is because, first, they never thought of it and secondly they think
that certain things are easier to do than other things. [But] the same
principles apply everywhere in the body." You -- and everything else --
shall fit together as one. As Chopra teaches, ancient folk medicine need not
conflict with latest science; they can be melded into a seamless synthesis.
As can differing dogma: Christ, Buddha, Mohammed, they all had it right in
their own way. Similarly, a clean and ordered template can be stamped on
each person's churning emotions and conflicting instincts.
In laying it all out, Chopra makes use of the scientific precision of
numbers, the ordering of stages, the listing of corresponding physical and
spiritual traits. The "range of built-in mechanisms" that are "directly
related to spiritual experience" according to Chopra are:
1. Flight-or-fight response.
2. Reactive response.
3. Restful awareness response.
4. Intuitive response.
5. Creative response.
6. Visionary response.
7. Sacred response.
When mechanisms, traits or stages are listed in "How to Know God" they
usually add up to seven. And the seventh is always the most pure or complete
or one with God and the universe. Chopra's message is the bedrock of New
Age: All the screwed-up mess of life shall be resolved through an ordered
progression towards harmony.
Spiritual transformation is readily procured. Deepak Chopra is the "regular
guy" who asks why, if you can wiggle your toes, you can't stop aging, earn
buckets of money, achieve bliss. At a moment when consumer choice equals
democratic participation in many people's minds, Chopra's organization has
innumerable products to sell you, from OptiWoman herbs sold under the
Ageless Body, Timeless Mind logo, to seminars on "Time-based awareness,
versus timeless awareness -- the path to immortality." You may purchase
exactly what Chopra sells to Demi Moore. The secret to his acceptability on
"Larry King Live," on "Oprah," on U.S. public television pledge nights, is
that he presents himself not as exotic but as accessible, clean shaven in
suit and tie.
My mother-in-law finds him "charming." Some academics like to describe and
analyze public life as a matter of "competing discourses." They mean that
behind the specifics of what anybody is talking about, whether it be sex,
free trade or finding God, are the embedded assumptions, fears and desires
that shape the lines of argument.
As discourses go, Deepak Chopra has either shrewdly crafted or innocently
arrived at a real winner. His "It's all good" discourse steamrolls over the
assumption behind competitors like, say, traditional Christianity that
preaches modesty and acceptance of this difficult world in order to inherit
the next. Or social justice advocates, who want us to see that wealth is
distributed unfairly through wile and the brute power of institutions. Or
Roszak's "secular humanist" rationalists, who would have our fates be
accidents of evolution.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The tough sell for these discourses, unlike Chopra's, is that they want us
to bow to limits, accept uncertainty, give up individual power and control,
to imagine that any real spiritual progress must come through hard choices,
hard work. Even then, you will never achieve absolute perfection, or
absolute protection.
"'Amazing' teen killed in Whistler crash." Plain mean. That's how you look
if you laugh at Chopra's ideas, or any belief system that allows people to
feel safe within, yet capable of transcending, this world, this life, this
vinyl and Formica refuge from the rain.
Then again, the more earnestly you contest the message of Deepak Chopra, the
more you invite a patronizing smile from his believers. You have not made
the leap yet, you have not opened yourself.
Even among the unconverted, you will likely encounter that admirable spirit
of tolerance essential to making a pluralistic society go. "Who knows?" you
will hear. "He may be right."
It's all good now, or it might be, at least. Which means that to grouse
about the guru is to be out of step with the times. This is the era of the
libertarian shrug, as well as the therapeutic reluctance to give offense. So
perfectly does the current mood accommodate and reward the ambition of
Deepak Chopra, you have to wonder. Maybe we all are but a perfect figment of
the guy's imagination.
salon.com
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About the writer
David Beers, author of "Blue Sky Dream," is a contributing writer to the
Vancouver Sun newspaper, where a version of this article appeared.
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