In 1991, I had the wonderful experience of meeting Amma, then virtually unknown in the U.S. That night there were about 200 people in a medium-sized meeting room in Berkeley. There was singing, chanting, a short talk by Amma translated by a devotee, and then the hugs. I had read about her in a newspaper article and traveled from Santa Cruz to see her, full of curiosity and a strangely compelling urge to experience the touch of what some were calling the Goddess incarnate.

I'll never regret that trip. Amma was just as sweet, plump and full of light as she is described in this article. Being swept into her embrace, cradled and crooned over for that too-short, and yet seemingly eternal, span was one of the major spiritual experiences of my life. It is indeed impossible to describe, except perhaps in these words: for those few moments I was filled and suffused with a feeling I seem to remember only from infancy - that of being held, loved and accepted completely, with no reservation, expectations, or requirements. It was like a blast of absolute light, and like a warm, soft, dark blanket, close and toasty. It was quite simply bliss.

Of course, this isn't a feeling one can immerse oneself in every minute or even every day (although I wonder sometimes what it would be like if one did). It was intense, and its effect lasted a long time. Twice now, I've had it (the other time was a trip to the California ashram), both times utterly magical for me. Being a big fan of physical contact as a way of spreading cheer and good feelings, I can say that Amma's way of spirit is the most loving and gratifying, as well as immediately effective, that I know or have heard of.

Do her disciples sometimes act in a less than blessworthy way? Doubtless some do. We are primates after all, so I'm hardly surprised to hear about the kind of outlook this article points up among her followers. Disciples have been known since time out of mind for just those kinds of hijinks, no matter who the teacher might be, or what kind of teaching is imparted. But judging a teacher by the behavior of disciples is a perfect example of the Buddha's lesson about the finger and the moon, and seems utterly irrelevant as far as I can see. It is true that although there is money changing hands (the article indicates a lot more tchotchkes around than back when I visited in 1993), there was no requirement at all to spend any money that I saw or heard - if you wanted to donate, it would be gratefully accepted, but not even a hint of pressure to pay up was ever evident.

Amma's embrace was and remains a very deep, healing experience for me. My beliefs hold as paramount the idea that everything and everyone is a part of the Divine Presence, so I have no problem seeing Amma as an incarnate goddess. Something is giving her the awesome strength to do what she does, day in, day out, year in, year out. I hope to be able to partake of that lovely, loving presence again soon, and to introduce others to the divine magic of a really good hug.

(As to the folks here who are sneering or belittling this woman's work, I can only ask them what exactly they're doing for the folks in this world who need some love, some strength, some food or shelter or simple kindness? The kind of pooh-poohing I'm seeing here is exactly the kind of arrogance that drove me away from contact with atheists years ago. Even though I love science and the scientific way of viewing the world, and feel blessed to have grown up in a time when such knowledge was honored and held as valuable, it's the tying up of the discipline with this kind of "We know better and you are all fools" that leave a bad taste in the mouths of so many people. If you're going to take on exactly the same attitude as your opposite number, what makes you better than them? To quote a line from Amadeus, "A little modesty might suit you better." To which I would add a little compassion as well.)

...much.

In one word: money. Simple as that. It costs too much. I used to go at least once a week to the flicks, often more, but I simply can't afford it anymore.

Oh, there are some films that still require theater viewing, what I call "big-screen movies". But the combination of that with the likelihood of the film actually being good enough to pay the $11.50-$15.00 that is charged these days in L.A. is getting less and less frequent. This year so far I've seen less than five films on the big screen, whereas in the same time frame 20 years ago I would have seen at least 15 or 20. Most big-screen films these days are dreck, and so not worth the money, while many really good films lose nothing when seen on the small screen - personal dramas, more intimate films, character comedies and the like.

I've always loved the experience of sitting in a theater surrounded by others, immersing oneself in the visceral thrill, and taking part in the modern version of the Greek theater-temples. But alas, the price forbids it. If movies were easily affordable again, I'd happily be there every week. As it is, I go on the rare occasions it's worth it, and otherwise thank the gods for Netflix.