I was a loser in CTL, the cultic group I was in for 18 years. I was one of the ones who'd never make it. I watched newbies enter the group and climb the leadership ladder while I stayed ever hopeful at the bottom. I was groomed to celebrate their ascent. Loyalty to my teacher, to the “depth, integrity and beauty” of what we were all striving for, was stitched securely into my psyche, making me a devoted student. 😇

Last week, I gave a book reading in the sweetest cafe: Shipwrecked, on the shore of the Hudson River, two doors down from a restaurant run by a cultic group. I read a smattering of passages from my memoir, An Everyday Cult.

We didn’t take family vacations for eighteen years. We’d get away for a weekend now and again, but our commitments to CTL - both time-wise and financially - curtailed leisure activity. But who needs a vacation when the power of The Work and the soul-gifts we received through our leader’s wisdom were bestowed on us every day? 😉 Back in our CTL days, my husband and I didn’t even think about vacations.