Amir Freimann

Spiritual Transmission


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      That was a lot to let in, and Andrew saw that and got up to make coffee for both of us. During the few minutes that he was in the kitchen, I decided I was going to follow his advice. Instantly, I experienced a change in my attitude. When he came back, holding two cups of cappuccino, I told him: “Andrew, something completely unexpected has just happened to me. Only a few minutes ago I was dreading the possibility that you would suggest that I completely discard my medical career, and now I feel like I’ve just dropped a few sandbags, to help my takeoff.”

      And so it happened that I ultimately and irrevocably discarded my plans to become a medical doctor, and never looked back.

      But my meeting with Andrew that day also marked another significant turning point in my life. Until that day I had never liked coffee, and under any other circumstances I would have refused it, but when your guru makes you a cup of cappuccino, you drink it. I drank it—and to my utter surprise, I loved it. That day I became a coffee lover.

      NOVEMBER 1990

      SANTA CRUZ AND MILL VALLEY, CALIFORNIA

      In mid-1988 I moved, together with Andrew and over one-hundred of his European students, to live in the United States. We lived for about a year in Boston and then moved to Marin County, California. At about the middle of 1990 the pressure on me by Andrew and my friends in the community, to face my “Israeli macho” conditioning, was becoming unbearable for me. I could see some of what they were pointing out to me, but I also felt that there wasn’t much I could do about it. I fell into despair and considered giving up my spiritual aspirations and returning to “life in the world.” At some point I left the community and moved to Santa Cruz, a few hours away from where the community was living. I rented a room in a house there and spent a few months working and thinking about what I wanted to do with my life. The crisis ended surprisingly with a dream.

      In my dream I was sitting face to face with Andrew, close to him, telling him in great detail all I was seeing and understanding about my psychological and spiritual condition, all the obstacles I saw in my way, which of them I had already faced, which of them I felt I could overcome and which of them I had no confidence that I could overcome. Andrew listened to me very attentively without responding, and when I finished speaking (in the dream it was after a long time), he said to me very simply: “It all depends on what you want.”

      I woke up immediately. It was still completely dark outside. The dream was so lucid, so tangible, that it could have been real. I knew that in the dream I was clearer and more accurate than I could ever be when I was awake, and I decided to write down all I had told Andrew in the dream while it was still fresh in my memory. I opened my diary and began writing feverishly. I wrote about the obstacles in my way, but as I read what I wrote I knew these particular obstacles could not stop me. At the end of the process I had all the obstacles clearly laid out on the pages of my diary, and none of them was a real obstacle. I knew what I wanted.

      At 9:00 a.m. I called the office of the community and asked to give Andrew the message that I wanted to come back. Minutes later I received a call from Andrew. I told him what had happened, and asked him to let me come back to the community. “Why don’t you come over and meet with me and a few of your friends,” he suggested. A few days later I moved back to the community.

      JANUARY 1991

      BODHGAYA, INDIA

      (DURING A MONTH-LONG RETREAT)

      “Andrew, what happens when we die?” The question came from a Bhutanese monk at our month-long retreat; he wore saffron robes, and had been coming regularly to satsang with Andrew.

      “I don’t know,” Andrew said, “I don’t have any memory of it. But when I get there, I’ll send you a postcard.”

      We all laughed, and I started thinking: Do I know anything about this question? Is there anything in my experience that could indicate to me what happens after we die? What if I died right now—would everything stop or would something of me continue?

      I sat there, imagining that I had died, suddenly, without anything leading to it, and I knew that my death would have absolutely no effect on my relationship with Andrew. It wouldn’t even register on that level—it would be completely insignificant. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I had no doubt that it was true, and as I contemplated it I was flooded with intense ecstasy. I was thinking about death and I was totally ecstatic, because I knew my death would mean nothing for my relationship with Andrew.

      JANUARY 1998

      RISHIKESH, INDIA

      (DURING A MONTH-LONG RETREAT)

      “I’ve just inherited a lot of money and I don’t have to work anymore,” said the man sitting in front of Andrew in satsang. “On the one hand, I am attracted to do social work and help the needy, and on the other, I am pulled to dedicate my life to the spiritual quest. What should I do?”

      “You should find what it is that pulls you like a black hole, that if you immerse yourself in it you will disappear into it, and then you should give yourself wholeheartedly to that,” Andrew replied.

      I contemplated for a minute what that black hole was for me, and quickly came to the answer: It was the purity and absolute nature of the enlightenment teachings that I felt drawn to and wanted to immerse myself completely in.

      I sat there, feeling happy with that answer, until it suddenly hit me that it was my relationship with Andrew himself, much more than his teachings, that I was pulled to. What? How could that be? The answer made no sense to me. How could my relationship with Andrew, who is just a human being, be more powerful and all-consuming than spiritual teachings? To my mind, the answer made no sense, but at the same time my heart was exploding with it, and tears were streaming down my face.

      I knew I had to ask Andrew what this meant, so after satsang ended, I went and asked to talk with him. “I have a spiritual question I want to ask you,” I said, and told him what had happened and my bewilderment about the insight I had had.

      “You’re right!” Andrew exclaimed when I finished. “Do you know why? First of all, because I am the teachings! Secondly, it’s also a perfect answer because a smart guy like you can find a way to remain separate and intact in your relationship with the teachings, but you sense and know that you will lose yourself completely in your relationship with me.”

      JUNE 2006

      FOXHOLLOW, MASSACHUSETTS

      Foxhollow was the world center of EnlightenNext, the international organization and spiritual community that grew around Andrew, with a dozen centers in Europe, the United Sates, Israel and India. Andrew and sixty to seventy of his students lived at Foxhollow, and the place also functioned as an ashram or monastery where people practiced meditation and various physical practices a few hours each day, as well as engaged in intensive individual and collective enquiry.

      One weekend at Foxhollow, the tension became almost palpable. It was a moment of truth for the men among Andrew’s oldest students, and I was one of them. After months of intensive practice and countless meetings among us, Andrew felt that the time was ripe for a significant change in our relationship with him and our ability to take more responsibility for the development of the community. A meeting with him was scheduled for the morning of the following day, Saturday. In a message that Andrew sent to all of us, he emphasized that it was important that we be ready for the next step, both all together and individually.

      It had become clear to everyone that I was the weak link in the group. My friends were concerned about the effect that my weak-nesses—self-doubt, lack of confidence and emotional instability—would have on this important meeting. I promised them that I would do all I could not to disappoint them, but in my heart I was not confident at all that I would keep my promise.

      That evening, Andrew played with his jazz band at a club in one of the nearby towns. I drove with a few friends to the gig. As soon as I entered the club, Andrew noticed me, even as he was busy setting up his drum kit, and signaled for me to come over to him. As I leaned toward him, he whispered forcefully: “Amir, tomorrow we are going to have a very important meeting, and its success