Chinmoy seemed willing to look the other way when Atmananda, his chief recruiter, disregarded his etiquette on sex, ego, cinema, individuality, and language. But his patience ran out in 1979, when a Queens disciple informed him that Atmananda was "playing guru." Actually, it had been several months since Atmananda had made it a practice to scan the audience during the meditation part of his talks, as if he were channeling Divine Light. But now Chinmoy saw the light, and Atmananda was in immediate danger of being kicked out of the Centre.
When Atmananda learned of his predicament, he had an idea. Fond of temperate climates, he had been wanting for years to move back to his birthplace, sunny southern California. This dream had recently reasserted itself in his mind as the number of people attending his talks gradually dwindled, which he attributed to a diminishing interest in spirituality in the New York metropolitan area. But suddenly the idea of starting a Chinmoy Centre in a distant city seemed less of a dream than a necessity. He wrote Guru a letter asking if he could move to San Diego.
Chinmoy consented.
Weeks later, the phone rang. It was Atmananda.
I offered to find my brother.
"No," he said, "I want to speak with you. Why don't you come over?"
He lived about a quarter of a mile from my apartment in Stony Brook. I jogged down Cedar Street and knocked on his door.
"Hi, kid. Make yourself at home." He offered me a yogurt.
I accepted.
He told me that he was starting a Centre for Guru in La Jolla, California. Then, in an enchantingly anesthetizing voice, he explained that southern California rested upon a mystical power spot around which had congregated the nation's largest population of spiritual seekers. "Would you like to go?"