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The Making of a ‘New-Age Therapist 201
the grounds that the pregnancy threatened her mental health. Before India, I was “liberal” minded and thought that all women who wanted an abortion should have one. I resigned from the boards thinking that kind of decision should be left to women in conversation with God. My Porsche and dirt motorcycle rounded out the image. I sold the Porsche and motorcycle and bought an old jeep.
How was I to handle the “outer” world of relationships and profession when everything inside had been so transformed? To regain my balance and bearings, I went back “inside” to the real, palpable, exquisitely felt expanse of space, peace and joy I had discovered in India. I felt a need to deepen my relationship with Sai Baba, to find solace and protection in reaffirming all that he stood for.
And he did protect—no question about it. One of his greatest miracles was keeping my practice alive. Even though referral sources dried up, in spite of all the statues and paintings of Hindu gods and goddesses and Baba’s pictures adorning my office, and even though I was turning inward to meditation and devotional practices— throughout it all, my practice thrived. I’ll never know why. You’d think a liberal-minded psychiatrist returning from India obsessed with God and unable to stop talking about a holy man would go broke pretty quickly.
When I went to Baba the second time, he took me aside and asked, “How’s your practice?”
“Do you know about that, Swami?” I replied with a smile, “People don’t understand.”
Looking at me with great love, he said, “1 know, 1 know—in time they will. Don’t worry about money—everything will be all right.”
I said, “Okay—thank you, Swami.” And I didn’t worry (well, not too much anyway) and he kept my practice going. What a wonderful sense of his omnipresent protection at a time of great vulnerability! It cemented the relationship forever.
Immersing myself in Sai Baba, suddenly I had the urge to write about my experiences with him.
Now, writing had always been difficult for me. I almost flunked my freshman English course in college and could do no better than a “C” in others. I couldn’t put two words together correctly on paper. But now, all of a sudden I couldn’t stop writing.