The Escape
I left one morning after realizing Rusty was trying to get the other woman thing going on or the other woman was trying to get him going on. Honestly, I did not know what was up, but I made up my mind to leave. And that was not why I left. Actually, I was very sad to leave him no matter what he was doing. I spoke with him about the possibility of us leaving the movement together, but he did not want to go. (Same as in Puerto Rico)
One very unfortunate thing was that he was becoming way too influenced by the cult and was treating me with a condescending attitude. I forgave him because I understood, but I could no longer take that kind of behavior. So, yeah, I was somewhat pissed at him and gave up trying to talk to him about the situation. My astrology chart said I was ‘unfaithful’ yet I never cheated on any man, ever! I finally understood what it meant. I was never really in love with just one man for any length of time. At first I gave my love, then I would get disappointed and it went away. But I was not leaving Iskcon to seek love from another man or at least I did not think I was. Truth is, that may have been part of the reason I left, because Rusty and I lacked in communication and sex. (Remember I said, even as newlyweds we only had sex two or three times a week?) And the trust connection between us was lost because of the cult.
I therefore knew I needed to leave on the sneak, otherwise, he would try to stop me. So for weeks I let the subject lie and simply kept going to the airport to distribute books as if nothing was happening. But I was planning my escape the entire time. And this time I began to embezzle money. I started taking a little every day so it would not be noticed and carefully hid it in our home.
At the time we were living in an A-frame cottage on the Tennessee farm. I think there were five A-frames on the farm where married couples lived. In the downstairs there was a wood stove, a couch, some chairs and a few bookshelves. It was not a real home in the sense that I spent time decorating it. It was not mine. It was just a simple ashram-style room. Upstairs was our bedroom where we put a mattress on the floor. We basically lived upstairs in the winter months, as the heat rose from the wood stove downstairs to keep us warm. Our clothes were stacked in milk crates that someone stole from somewhere. The only decoration was a stained glass window hanging I bought that produced colors as the sun entered the room.
Cows wandered outside on the rolling hills of the farm and feasted on the clover we planted for their enjoyment and our milk. We were careful to keep all wild onions out of the pastureland because onion milk tasted horrible! We’d had it!
Wildcats were heard near the window at night. Once I actually saw one on the ground below as we heard her scream and awoke with fear. Those hills were full of critters, some showing themselves and some hiding.
We carried water from a well to our home and washed our clothes by hand. When we went to the bathroom, it was either in a chamber pot inside, an outdoor toilet or the woods outside. That has got to be the worst thing about simple living. I could never get used to the bathroom situation. Later I found living on a boat could be similar! The bathroom thing was not fun!
I didn’t cook in our little A-frame and we always took our meals from the temple kitchen. There I cooked breakfast for about 15 people on a wood stove. One devotee chopped and split wood for the cooks so every morning we could easily build a fire and make bread or cook some type of kitchri (a dahl and rice mixture) or some sweet cream of wheat. Since we had cows, we had plenty of milk, cream and butter. Three times a week we would churn the cream to make butter and we did that with an old fashioned butter churner, bobbing a stick with a masher at the bottom up and down in a tall, thin, wooden tub. It was fun to see the butter forming in pieces or small blocks we gathered and mashed together for later use. We used the buttermilk that was left for making bread and soups. During season, when the blackberries were ripe, we would make blackberry ice cream. The cream would be so thick that butter pieces would be floating on top.
On weekends I would cook a Sunday feast with some of the other devotees, as was traditional in all Krishna temples. I would cook chapatis, dahl, rice, vegetables and sweets all on the wood stove. It was amazing how peaceful living in the country could be with simple living and high thinking, as my spiritual master called it.
We grew our own wheat for bread and when the wheat fields were full and green, they glowed in the sunlight. Occasionally, when the crop was young, we let the cows into the wheat fields to graze as that was their favorite food. Purple clover was their second favorite and it grew everywhere.
Creeks flowed through the property so there was never a shortage of water. Tennessee gets a lot of rain. Wild flowers grew along the streams and fresh peppermint was in the water everywhere. If two people were in love, then this could have been a wonderful place to raise children. But I was not feeling love from Rusty, only the influence of the cult on his saddened mind. Rusty said I was just being critical and I would surely pay for my doubts. I could not let fear control my behavior. I could not just believe what I was told. If you are religious, you do what you are told. If you are spiritual, you do what you feel is right. I was spiritual and he had become religious.
Day after day I drove from our farm to the Nashville airport and sold books to many different people, gradually holding a little back for myself. Johnny Cash bought a book from me one day without question. He simply put the book under his arm, grabbed his wallet and pulled out a twenty and said, “Thank you, ma'am” as he walked away. Such a great soul, I thought! I met Chubby Checker, who wasn’t chubby anymore and Dolly Parton who was too busy to talk. The Nashville airport was an exciting place to work.
Back at home I pretended I changed my mind about leaving. I did my work and rubbed my legs as I was in so much pain at the end of the day. I was always walking and selling books. What I didn’t realize at the time was I had arthritis. Later in life I found out that I was suffering from childhood arthritis from the time I was 10 years old. My parents took me to several doctors who explained I simply had growing pains. They were wrong. By the time I was in my 40s I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and realized it had been part of my life since I was a child. But who knew back then that children could have the disease. Rusty thought I was being over dramatic and needed attention more than medical care. He was wrong. That’s the thing about relationships, with anyone, we don’t really know what the other person is thinking or feeling and therefore we simply judge or speculate about their condition. We are usually wrong. We don’t believe the other person because we don’t feel it ourselves. Too bad!
Since Rusty had become indoctrinated by the cult he quit treating me with respect and treated me more as an unintelligent woman who needed guidance and protection, and when he spoke to me it was to condemn me for the thoughts I was having about the institution. He would preach to me that I should have more faith and everything would be all right if I only followed the leaders. What a shame! I began to see what being brainwashed was all about. I knew I was brainwashed, but upon realizing it, that’s when I wanted to get out. He didn’t seem to know it.
I was seeing right through the patriarchal system, the embezzlement shit, cult domination and covering my head bullshit. I could have cared less about whether or not a man got a hard-on when he looked at me. I was seeing child abuse everywhere and I was fried! Worse than an egg! More like a lava rock!
So, there we were, living on the farm that Atlanta set up near Nashville, Tennessee and I was traveling to the airport every day to sell books. I was stashing money and planning my escape. Rusty was studying construction techniques because he was put in charge of building the temple on the farm. He knew nothing about building, but he was determined to do the right thing and went to the library day after day checking out books, studying how to build a structure. And in the end, I went back years later to find he had done an amazing job!
But it’s easy to hide something from someone when they don’t communicate with you and when someone doesn’t communicate with you, there is really nothing you can do about it. He was born on August 20th, putting him on the cusp between Leo and Virgo, so his personality traits were an enigma. He would sometimes appear like a Leo, lion and lamb and sometimes a Virgo, critical and energetic. He never talked about dreams of the future and things he wanted to achieve. He seemed to have become simply a follower of the religion. Whatever the religion said, we did. I wished he were a truth seeker, as I was, someone who was philosophical, and kind and horny!
Rusty had become someone different from the shy man who didn’t want to go to the temple with me when I first went. He was brainwashed through and through and was proud of his male dominance. It really turned me off when I witnessed his behavior. But the sad thing was that I lost my marriage, my partner in life and I was losing myself, so one day, I just left.
THE ESCAPE
I had to escape, remember? I was in a cult and was not allowed to leave with any dignity. I was controlled and told if I wanted to leave to ‘enjoy the material world,' I was in maya (illusion). Friends, leaders, shit, everyone would try to talk you out of it, but I knew I had to leave. I was trapped in this society where I was working my ass off making $200 plus a day, turning the money over to others and losing my happiness, little by little.
Rumors were flying around about leaders who were taking the money and running. At first I thought it was their maya or illusion and they would suffer for their actions. (That was the cult talking in my head.) Then I began to resent it and resent that my hard earned dollars were going to some asshole. When I finally left I reserved only around $300 for myself, sewn into the waistband of my pants because I was going to hitch-hike, plus an additional $100 in my bag.
The morning came and my plan was firm. I was driving to Nashville, taking three other women with me, so I had the keys to the car. Under a collection of books and an old blanket in the trunk of the car I hid a tent, sleeping bag and a backpack with some clothes, toothbrush, etc packed away securely and I was ready to go.
I walked into the airport with the three other women, our book bags over our shoulders, ready to start distribution. As soon as we walked in, I gave the keys to the car to another devotee and said, “Here, can you hold the keys while I go to the bathroom and then maybe you can drive home?” “Sure,” she said, never thinking a thing about it. I just zipped out of her sight quickly and of course she never realized I was headed for the exit to the airport. I went straight to the car, having purposefully left it unlocked, grabbed my things and left. As I looked around, I remember thinking, “How was I going to get from the airport to the freeway to start hitch-hiking?” You know how airports usually have these long entry ways leading up the Departure/Arrival sites and after that was another long road leading to the freeway exit? Finally, I decided to take a cab. My heart started thumping and I could barely breathe as I realized I would have to go back to the entrance of the airport to get a cab and a devotee might be there looking for me. But why should they? So I took a deep breath and made my move. I got in the cab and asked the driver take me to the freeway. He kept asking where I was going and I said, “I’m not sure what exit it is. I’ll let you know when I see it.” After about two or three exits, I told the driver to pull over and let me out on the shoulder of the freeway, that I was going to hitch-hike from there. He was shocked, of course. He didn’t want to let me out on the freeway saying, “But miss, that would be very dangerous!” However, he took an exit and let me off at the top. I paid his fare and from there, I walked back down to the freeway and stuck out my thumb, scared of everything, but knowing I made the right decision. I was free at last! Was I going to hell? Probably, but what could I do?
It didn’t take long. I was cute and sexy, 26 and a half years old, and was immediately picked up by an older man in his red pickup. I was lucky. I could have been raped or worse, killed, but God must have been protecting me because I only met nice people along the way. And where did I plan to go? Honestly, I wasn’t sure exactly but was thinking about the mountains in North Carolina. I just knew I had to get the hell out of there. I didn’t want to go home to Alabama and hear the rants of my parents so what would I do? I think my reasoning was I would simply camp out for a while and be in solitude until I decided on my next move. I packed a map in my backpack and I headed towards the Appalachian Mountains.
I owned a really cool two-man tent and a good down sleeping bag I bought before I ever joined the Krishnas. I packed a small stove and one pot to cook in and also eat with. I spent the first night sleeping in someone’s front yard. Their home was actually across the street from a small campground where I planned to go, but there were guys camping there and drinking and before I knew it, they were knocking at my tent asking me to come out and play. So, frightened I said, “Sure, but hold on a minute I need to check with my friends who are across the street.” They weren’t suspicious, but I was still nervous. I went up to the door of the home and knocked. When they came to the door, I told them the situation and asked if I could put my tent in their yard close to their home. They agreed. They stood on the porch and watched as I went back to get my tent and made an excuse to the guys. “Don’t be a party pooper!” they said. But I was in no hurry to get raped and when people are drinking, well, you just never know what might happen, and I was already traumatized from the day’s adventure. At this time in my life I was getting pretty good at lying, lying to save my soul and lying to save my life, not lying to pump up my prestige, and I needed to rest that night, so I lied.
The next day I traveled from Tennessee to North Carolina and landed in a small town called West Jefferson, north of Boone where there was a university. There I met two cool guys who seemed totally harmless. They were at the store in town, loading up on beer and groceries as they were renting a cabin in the woods. Seemed their goal in life was to stay drunk and stoned. I didn’t care. They invited me to stay and I felt rescued from the hell I had just escaped!
In the front yard of the cabin were two huge cherry trees. Down the hill to the right was a nice hippie couple who came to the mountains on the weekends. Up the hill was an older guy who was an amazing artist and he grew beautiful flowers, marigolds, purple petunias, fuchsia, climbing vines, pink honeysuckle and huge marijuana plants. They also heated and cooked with wood, living simply off the land with a full garden of peas, tomatoes, zucchini squash, onions and rhubarb for pie.
Life changed after that. It was sweet and simple. I got hooked up with one of the guys, a sweet ex-Viet Nam serviceman and relaxed into their lifestyle of pot, nature, herbs, organic vegetables and natural healing. Hippies were all over the mountains in those days living the natural lifestyle, outdoor toilets, heating with wood, making lots of cherry pies from the loaded trees and smoking lots of pot.
I cooked for my new friends and told them about my cult experience with the Krishnas and they were both amazed by the philosophy and shocked at the cult. The artist friend told me I was a hypocrite, telling them about the Krishna lifestyle and how it was superior, but yet I was doing something totally different. He was right. I was being hypocritical. I could not see the forest for the trees. I was totally confused.
Then I got pregnant and did not want to have an abortion, so nine months later, a child came and nothing was ever the same again. I had a beautiful little daughter, as sweet as those cherry pies herself and I felt it was my duty to tell her about God. So, explaining myself to my new lover, I left, for a while.
But this time I was not running from, but running back to the temple. I wanted my child to know Krishna. I wasn’t sure how I was going to accomplish that, however, because I didn’t really want to live in the temple again, so I went back and forth from my lover to the temple because I also wanted my child to have a father. By that time, the temple could have cared less what I did. Truth was, they could see I was independent and would no longer do what I was told. I was no longer a money-making asset. They knew by then they could have no more control over me, so they didn’t try. A woman has to take care of her child. Nevertheless, by this time, I was messed up! Really! I was confused about life, children, men, religion, work, chauvinism and everything. And really, I don’t think any of the authorities at the temples actually liked me. What was I thinking? Did I think they would just forget I left and forgive everything? I was never really welcomed back. I was a traitor and I gave birth to a child with a man who wasn’t my husband.
My poor parents, who were already devastated by my joining a cult, were now trying to be supportive of my being a mother with a child that was not from my husband. Having a child makes you realize lots of things about your own parents. And my parents put up with a lot! I was seeing their good side when before all I could see was their lack of understanding of something other than Christianity. That was my stupidity. But I knew their bigotry and wide-spread prejudice would probably never go away. When my daughter was born, things changed with both them and me. They wanted a grandchild and I began to realize they knew much more about children than I did. They showered love on my daughter like I couldn’t believe. In that way, they were great. It was like a buffer came between us. Yet I would still have to deal with their bigotry and self righteous behavior in an area of the country where no one wants to change. But I was changing.