The Accidental Guru
In the late 1970’s, I found myself explaining to a woman with a quarter in her hand that I didn’t really teach a self-actualization course. Sensing her disappointment, I quickly offered her the first bit of wisdom that popped into my head. “Just believe in yourself,” I said, thinking myself to be quite wise. Apparently not wise enough however, for the enlightenment-seeking woman smiled curtly and walked away. My career as a guru was over before it began.
The seventies were drawing to a close and we’d already had the Kent State shooting, the terrorist attack at the Munich Olympics, and the first Ebola outbreak in Africa (It’s so great that we’re beyond those sorts of stories today).
The seventies also gave us the first VCR, leisure suits, and something called the Human Potential Movement. It was an offshoot of this movement that lead to my first potential client and her quarter. The offshoot was something called EST, which stood for Erhard Seminar Training. EST was a sort of self-improvement course given over two consecutive weekends.
The "training", as it was known, was often taught in huge ballrooms to hundreds of people at a time, each of who had paid several hundred dollars for the experience.
According to Wikipedia,
the purpose of EST was "to transform one's ability to experience living so that the situations one had been trying to change or had been putting up with, clear up just in the process of life itself."
At the end of the training, you either “got it” or you didn’t. “Get it” was a catchphrase of the training.
In the interest of full disclosure, I never took the course and consequently, never “got it.” But I did have several friends who plunked down the money. Not only did they “get it”, they wanted me (and everyone else they knew) to get it too.
Those of us who had not yet seen the light, pressed those who had for details about the experience. There was a lot of talk about personal responsibility from the friends who’d “gotten it”. They talked about being late as an example.
According to the “got its”, you were either late or not late, and everything else was irrelevant.
Stuck in traffic? Well, you should have left earlier. There were no excuses.
I found myself thinking that much of what they preached sounded a lot like Yoda (do or do not, there is no try) in the then recently released Star Wars.
Wherever it came from, there was no denying that each of them had a sort of glow about them. They often exchanged knowing looks that left the rest of us wondering just what had happened in the training. But actual details were scarce. They’d apparently spent two weekends being berated by a “trainer.”
During the training, they were not allowed to speak unless spoken to; bathroom breaks were not permitted without the trainer’s permission; and eating was only allowed during specified times. All in all, this did not sound like fun.
In fact, it sounded more like detention, (at least, what I imagine detention was like as I certainly never had one). Still, there was the glow, and we were intrigued. Luckily for us, it turned out that after one “got it,” one was expected to recruit more people to “get it.” Toward that end, the EST people held something called guest seminars.
Our friends who’d “gotten it” were more than happy to drag those of us who’d yet to “get” anything to these events. As it turned out, the guest seminars were more like one of those time-share pitches (at least what I imagine a time-share pitch is like). There was an opening presentation by a high energy “trainer” that featured none of the berating, restroom withholding, detention like things we’d heard about.
After the presentation, there was a break, during which all of the already “got its” walked around the room encouraging the “not yet got its” to sign up for a training. It was during one such break, the woman and her quarter had approached me.
She’d gotten the idea that I taught my own seminar from me of course. I’d already been to several guest seminars. I went to appease my friends, always insisting I had no intention of signing up.
At this particular event, the annoyingly energetic trainer went around the room asking people why they were there. Most of the responses indicated a general curiosity about EST or a desire for self-improvement. But when Mr. Energy got to me, it was a different story.
I told him it amused me to watch people sign up. He should have quit then but instead he pressed on with, “Don’t you think you could benefit from the training?” I smiled and explained that not only did I not need EST, but also, I had my own training, called INVEST.
This got a great response from the crowd and now the room was mine. I continued on, announcing that while EST cost hundreds of dollars, INVEST was only a quarter. Naturally this led to more laughter.
The energy guy quickly decided to move on from me, which proved to be an error. The guy next to me was my friend Barry (who also had yet to “get it”). He wanted to know why he should spend hundreds on EST when he could take INVEST for a quarter? The energy guy moved on from him too.
Soon after that, it was break time and the woman and her quarter were before me. That would be the last time I attended a guest seminar.
Over time, the EST glow faded and those who’d gotten it seemed to forget it. I sometimes wonder if the woman and her quarter ever “got it”, what ever that means. She certainly seemed to be searching for something.
If I’d let her, its possible she could eventually have been leading INVEST guest seminars. In fact, the more I think about it, I think I should have kept the quarter.
