I Regained My Brain: Interview with Floy van den Berg by Sam Maddox, May, 1979The following is an interview with Floy van den Berg, a former member of the Dharmadhatu Buddhist community. This community is led by Chogyam Trungpa, who also heads the Naropa Institute. Speaking with Boulder writer Sam Maddox, Floy has explained that she once considered Trungpa a god, a beacon of truth; today, she considers him a fraud, a bastion of conceit and confusion.
Floy first met Trungpa in Vermont in 1971, shortly after he arrived in this country. He had set up a monastery on a farm, and was conducting seminars and retreats. Recently out of college and searching for a substitute for lifelong Catholicism, Floy was swept off her feet by Trungpa and his Tibetan version of "crazy wisdom." She stayed with "the scene" when it moved to Boulder six years ago. But shortly after Trungpa settled here, Floy began to note changes -- in style and content -- of the teachings. Trungpa surrounded himself with a monarchic entourage, including his version of a palace guard, the Vajra Guards. The style of the membership changed, too. Three-piece suits replaced jeans and shirts, and cocktails at five became de riguer.
Floy began questioning her relationship to her guru, but at first found it psychologically impossible to stand on her own. She says she was kept off balance emotionally and could not assert her own personality. It was not until it became clear to Floy that Trungpa's scene had less to do with Buddhism than with affirming middle class notions of power, status and material wealth that she was able to gain the courage to tell her story.
It has not been easy to break away. Floy has endured the indignity of having a man (himself a member of the Dharmadhatu) leave her to raise their child with only the help of welfare. Floy claims the man was acting on Trungpa's advice, and that Trungpa further advises the local Buddhists not to help her in any way. Floy was thereafter emotionally -- and on several occasions, physically -- abused, she says.
Partly because of recent publicity regarding an incident at a Trungpa seminary, in which a National Book Award winning poet and his girlfriend were stripped in front of a large crowd on Trungpa's orders, Floy van den Berg feels she can no longer keep her story to herself.
Sam MaddoxQ. As far as you know, is the incident described in
Ed Sanders' report, "The Party," (see Boulder Monthly, March 1979) a typical incident, or is it just an isolated occurrence?
A. It is a typical incident, it is not an isolated example.
At every seminary, as far as I know, there was a confrontation involving violence. At an earlier Seminary, Bagwan Das had a drinking bout with Trungpa; Bagwan Das had his hair to his waist, tied in holy-man knots by Hari Das Baba. Trungpa drank him under the table and with a knife cut off his hair to his neck.Q. Then the type of behavior described in "The Party" shouldn't have come as a shock to the Buddhist community?
A. In Trungpa's case,
the taking of vows is a plugging-in to Trungpa and Trungpa's authority. And there are people who have been very upset by "The Party," but there is no outlet for them. It's just their personal pathos as far as Trungpa is concerned. Trungpa's scene is the only form of Buddhism today that has the disciples working for the sake of the guru -- they're sort of servants to the guru. I had an interview with Trungpa about leaving, but for a long time I was not able to leave.
Q. How do you mean that you were not able to leave?
A. I mean psychologically. All the time was taken up meditating, trying to learn to meditate, talking with people, fixing meals, or reading books. I would go visit old college friends, but I was in a different space, and unable to relate to them. I would feel forced to come back to Trungpa.
Q. Did Trungpa provide a structure, like a family structure, for you?
A.
Not a family structure, but I didn't have a lot of money -- I was on welfare by then and I couldn't find a place to live. It was more just a psychological structure of people that I knew. And I was not willing to submit to that, yet I could not find any other place to be. I was pregnant, I felt emotionally traumatized by the pregnancy and emotionally traumatized by Trungpa's group, but I could not find the courage or the stamina or the personal resourcefulness to get another place. And that's very a-typical of me.Q. So would you say that people that are into Trungpa's scene are similar to you in so far as the psychology of need or the inability to break away from it are concerned?
A. I would say that
no one that I know has broken away from Trungpa, except for one woman that I know of -- that's one exception. I'm told that this is simply what I've experienced but that it doesn't happen that way for everyone, and that people are free to come and go. But
I know that for anyone who has been with Trungpa a long time, it will become extraordinarily psychologically difficult to re-enter the real world. They will be dealing with a sense of self that has been broken down.
I think in all cases in Trungpa's scene you have personalities that are becoming psychologically dependent. One of the clues to that came up in Peter Marin's article in the February issue of Harper's. Marin asked Jeremy Hayward, the head of Naropa Institute, whether or not Trungpa actually did what was best for him. And Jeremy said, "But I have to think that Trungpa is doing the best."In my thinking, what I have come to understand is that -- and I've read a lot, talked to a lot of people and spent six years in that scene in the past --
the Buddhist teachings are quite simple, easy to comprehend, and clear. But in Trungpa's scene it becomes very, very involved. Very elusive. Very difficult to communicate. And I don't think this is happening in other Buddhist situations. I have not experienced it in other Buddhist situations that I've been around.
I think that the meditation environment around Trungpa is very confused. And meditation is there to help you get clarity.
I also think people are being drawn to Trungpa not just through middle-class wanting to run away from middle-class America, and not just middle-class mindlessness, but
through a very strong sociological current in America: the desire for power. I think that it is this strong underlying desire for power that keeps them there. It's "Well, if pappa can't give it to me, man, I can't get it anyplace else. This is the candy store, the IT store."
This kind of greedy thinking brings them in and holds them. Buddhism is supposedly based on the lack of greed, but Tantric teachings are something else. The Tantric teachings involve the attainment of power. Many people are coming to Trungpa from many paths of life and for many reasons, most of which are based on guilt, emotional delusions, or the desire for power. All of which are negative. I think Trungpa is sucking these people in and using that and sending it back to them. Which is what he should be doing, mirroring back people's confusion. But then, too, they shouldn't be sitting there meditating in confusion. Most of these people have spent years with him. And after all these years, they are still sitting there meditating in complete metaphysical gossip.
Trungpa Rinpoche has been in the country for nine years.
People have shown very little ability to think critically or act in a reasonable manner towards the man, or hold their own with him. I know no one who has become involved with Trungpa who have been able to hold their own, and say they feel he is wrong. This is not the case with the scene around Kalu Rinpoche, in Vancouver, who is of the same sect as Trungpa. It is not the case with GoMeng Keng who came here from the Gaylupa [Gelugpa] sect.
It seems to be singularly the case that happens to people when they are around Trungpa Rinpoche. They seem to lose a sense of themselves that is capable of functioning at a critical level, and they become emotionally blown-out. It's like a bad acid trip that you don't come back from.
Q. Do women in the Buddhist scene here find it difficult to refuse Trungpa if he asks them for sexual favors?
A. Now that's a matter of ego, as they tell it. Some find it difficult and some are proud of the fact that they don't find it difficult and they do refuse him, but he stays "warm" with them. I've personally found that I was punished. I didn't want to go to bed with Trungpa.
Q. Did he ask you to?
A. Oh, yes. By my first interview he told me I could stay at the monastery in Vermont. It became clear after that that what he was asking me to do was to become one of his concubines. When he told me I could stay, the terms were not clear to me. I was just out of college, an American girl. I was looking for purity. I was looking for contact with someone I loved. I was looking for exalted states of consciousness. I wasn't looking for being the bed-partner of a guru whom I considered to be a Buddha. It didn't enter my mind. But it became clear I could stay there if I wanted to become his mistress.
And then at my second interview during the Naropa seminar in New York City, he leaned over and kissed me strongly in the middle of an interview when there was no signalling that this was about to come about.
I think the real sociological problem comes when you take Trungpa and his sexual behavior out of the context of his disciples. I personally have experienced other disciples saying, "What do you have against sex? Why can't sex be part of your teachings? What's wrong with you?"
Then you take Trungpa away from his disciples -- who are perhaps willing to undergo this on their path -- and you put Trungpa up in front of Naropa Institute for his evening lectures with an audience containing many young girls who have happened into this naively -- like I did -- and one of the guards comes up to one of them after the lecture, and she's just had this heavy experience where she feels like she's "letting-go" or "opening-up," the first time she has emotional contact with something other than what she's grown up with. And the guard comes up and says, "He wants you, tonight." What does that girl do? It's a tremendous moment for her. And there is no space for her to say "no," unless she's fairly mature, which she isn't at that time.I think that that's when Trungpa's behavior becomes something for people in the world to know.
Q. So he's become sort of a spiritual stud?
A. Well, "sort of" wouldn't be necessary to say.
Q. What about the guards? What kind of an organization is that?
A. Once again the situation has become too solid and has lost the Buddhist content and become something else. It's at the point where, if you're going to have an intellectual analysis of Trungpa,
the question of the guards is where you start questioning how he's handling his reality and why it's no longer a Buddhist reality, or a teaching reality.I think if I went back to the myth of Radha Krishna, we could understand this a bit. Radha was guarded by bulls because she was so precious. Trungpa is not supposed to be guarded in a Buddhist world. He is a participating lineage-holder of the Karma Karmapa lineage, which is the lineage of action because supposedly all thoughts are known. The lineage is empowered to transmit a situation by thought, releasing you into action. And action is where you overcome all things. So
there should be no need for the guards, because by knowing all thoughts Trungpa should be able to overcome any harm prior to its taking place.What we're dealing with now, we're no longer dealing with a man who's giving teachings. We're dealing with a blatant pigishness or something. The presence of the guards, the way they are, the way they handle things, the elaborate things one has to go through to see Trungpa anymore -- it's all very strange, very obscure.
Trungpa was the head of a monastery in Tibet. He ran away when the Communists took over and he's successful in living but, as the head of a monastery in Tibet, he was the head of many monks, not householders. It's not the same as it is here --
he wasn't making tons of money. He wasn't going through all this psychological bowing and scraping of Westerners at his feet. He had few temptations there. There may have been women brought to the monastery; there is a son that was born to him in Tibet by a nun. It's a whole different world from what you have here. I think what you have is a macho on the rampage, in our terms.Q. Three-piece suits weren't always the style of dress for Boulder Buddhist, were they?
A. Peter Marin said in Harper's that to him as a visitor to Naropa Institute it seemed that Trungpa was no longer taking in the drop-outs from the '60s. It being 1971 when I met Trungpa, we were all wearing blue jeans. People who are now wearing three-piece suits were then the blue-jeans '60s crew. Someone called them a motley crew and by looks they were.
Q. You're considered an enemy.
A. Yes.
Q. A Dharma enemy?
A. Yes.
Q. After the Halloween party did the community here in Boulder know about it?
A. Yes. Before people got back there were letters coming back. And then after that I was really afraid to leave, now the world was awash. If he can do this, what is he going to do?
Q. Was there any critical discussion about the party?
A.
People actually questioned, "Am I" -- as Ginsberg pointed out, the question recurred to him -- "following some sort of satanic monster? Is this the Book of the Dead coming alive in some sort of LSD fantasy?"
It is. Trungpa is some sort of monster and that's why it's so hard to talk about it. He's a selfish, prudish little brat. According to Buddhist teachings he has absolutely no right acting out like that. He's doing it and he's getting away with it. And he's highly criticized by other Buddhists. His name is "mud" in Buddhist society.Q. Describe how you denounced the lineage and the reaction of the Guru.
A. I denounced my vows and took refuge after a series of incidents including a confrontation with Trungpa Rinpoche and a public audience with his Holiness Karmapa, head of the lineage.
Q. What was Trungpa's response? What was the incident with Trungpa?
A. I had wanted to go to Seminary because I talked with
John Steinbeck IV and I remembered that keeping up with America was not why I wanted to be a Buddhist. An emissary came to my house with a message from Trungpa: if I wanted to go to seminary, the child's father couldn't go. I felt Trungpa was trying to run my life, so I decided not to go.
Then I had a confrontation with him at a wedding party. Trungpa's sister-in-law was getting married. The party was a lawn party at the couple's new house. I talked to the newlyweds when I came in, and they went to a table at the back. I wanted to be at the wedding, but I did not want to be with the rest of the people there. I was planning to renounce my vows. But I felt it should be a hands-off scene at the wedding, with no confrontation.
I got comfortable talking with the groom and some friends, and then I noticed that one of the heads of Naropa Institute walked to the table, gave a slight nod of the head to me and sat down. I thought, you don't dare, but assumed that nothing would happen at a wedding.
Q. Why did you think that? Did you feel they would want to confront you?
A. I felt nervous.
The matter of denouncing the vows was a serious matter and everyone I knew objected to it.Q. What happened then?
A.
More and more heads of Trungpa organizations came to the table. It looked sinister, but I still felt that nothing would happen. Then Trungpa arrived at the party. He came to the table and looked at me. I managed a bland smile. I figured they could sit at the table; it was my friend's wedding and they wouldn't dare be after me -- that here, socially, live-and-let-live could happen.
Suddenly he, Trungpa, was sitting beside me. I don't remember seeing him walk around that table; with his leg brace, I think I would have remembered. But all of a sudden he was beside me. I turned and there he was, and I went "Gulp. My Goodness."
I knew he had come to sit beside me, and I knew it was going to be difficult not to talk to him. But I figured he would follow some ethical manner of conduct. I don't know why I thought that.
Anyhow, we did talk. The conversation, as much as I remember, went as follows:
"Oh, you're not going to seminary?"
"No, I'm not."
"Are you leaving the scene?"
"Yes, in my ignorance, that is what I'm doing."
Then he leaned his head down and pulled his glasses to the middle of his nose and looked over them. It is the same gesture my father, who was a colonel in the Air Force, used when he was going to have his way.
And he said, "Well, I must say I'm disappointed in you."
I was furious: if this was the last time we're going to talk, and he said something like that, I didn't see any point in it. So I wasn't going to let it go by without trying to gain a human moment.
I said, ''I'm disappointed in you." He turned his head away. The whole atmosphere had become quite intense. Everyone at the table was staring at us and I was very nervous.
Then I said, "But I honor the teachings of the Buddha and I want you to know that."
He said, "They will be of no help to you. The lions will come and devour you. You are without my protection and I want you to know that I reject you as my student."
The way he said it was so fierce and so involved in himself. I felt so hurt by his choice of involvement in himself and his authority and lack of understanding of my naivete, my feelings and my struggle.
I said, "If the lions come and devour me, I will tell them to go and talk it over with you."Q. What is motivating you to do this interview? What is giving you the courage to become public about these incidents?
A. It may appear that I should be motivated by the beatings and abuse I received, out of a sense of revenge.
I was beaten and abused. But this story is not an attack. It is the telling of the truth.