"Back then I called it grace, and sometimes I still do."

My Evening with Blair Glaser, author of "This Incredible Longing"

I spent my twenties searching for truth. I’d always identified as a seeker, but a bunch of things happened in the early 90’s that set me on what I could only call “a path.” I am currently writing about that time for a new play, and so in many ways it feels fresh again.

One of the people I knew then has come back into life, and I’m so happy about it, writer and executive coach Blair Glaser. When I met Blair through a dear old friend, she was in the process of moving back to New York, the city she’d grown up in, after college and a stint in LA. Phil thought Blair and I would get along, and we did. Blair was one of the few people who didn’t think I’d lost my mind when I talked about wanting to fulfill my soul. (The 90’s were an era of irony, remember?)

We lost touch when Blair moved upstate to live on the Siddha Yoga ashram and devote herself to a charismatic guru. We got back in touch after I saw the HuffPo piece Blair wrote about her time with the guru. That article, and others like it, eventually led to Blair’s memoir This Incredible Longing, a moving account of her “near-cult experience.”

I love this book. It’s funny and honest and human. As someone who spent the pandemic immersed in cult documentaries, I found Blair’s book deeply satisfying.

I recently hosted a conversation and book reading with Blair at Von on Bleecker Street. Here’s what we talked about:

BB: You started as an actor but at some point pivoted. Want to talk about that? It’s the genesis of your amazing book!

BG: Throughout my life, there’s been this synergistic relationship between longing for God and the pursuit of theater. I was a very God-curious kid and wanted to have a relationship with an all-knowing, benevolent being. But when I went to see the Fantasticks at 6 years old…I describe it in the book as my first religious experience. An ingenue belted out a song—ironically about wanting and longing—and I felt this sparkly energy coursing from my toes to my head and back down again. That’s when I knew I wanted to devote myself to being an actress, to having more of that feeling and inspiring it in others. But when the self-consciousness of adolescence prevented the freedom of expression that had earned me a reputation for being a talented kid, I became depressed. I was so sensitive, I didn’t think I was cut out for performing, with all the imperfection and rejection. What I wanted, even more than to be a successful actor or famous, was to be free—to feel alive inside and at peace with myself.

BB: I think so many theater people are seeking that experience you describe; it’s a kind of transcendence.

BG: And that drove me back to a search for God in a classic 90s New Age format, via a guru and an ashram.

BB: What did you love about life on the ashram, and what frustrated you?

BG: I loved the structure; the daily schedule of practice and the sights and smells of ashram life. I woke up before sunrise every morning and sat in the pre-dawn silence watching the sky lighten and then, did practices that gave me perspective and a better buzz than any cup of coffee. (These days I never wake up before the sun on purpose.)

Ashram life gave me time to go within and contemplate who I wanted to be in this life without having to worry about making a living. People saw talents that I didn’t yet own, and this set me on a path to self-respect, fulfilling my true calling as a therapeutic educator.

I loved the synchronicities that happened at the ashram, like hearing the name of someone I didn’t know in meditation and then discovering that person needed my services. I loved not having to choose what to do, eat, or, sadly, think. At the ashram, I reflected a lot, but the belief system of Kashmir Shaivism—a Hindu mystic tradition that centered on an energy transmission from an enlightened being to a seeker who would cultivate that energy through spiritual practice—relaxed my anxiety and was a good framework for growth….for a while.

And then I began to clearly see how many people were not reflecting or thinking for themselves at all, but instead, hiding and playacting at being evolved. And then the scandal of Muktananda and Gurumayi’s brother loomed, and I was heartbroken that the teachers I had put so much faith in were so broken. Finally, I watched my friends appear on Friends, which I sneak-watched from a TV in the ashram basement, and I had to question everything. Was I seeking or hiding?

BB: What did you do after leaving? How did you go about constructing the life and adult identity that you have now?

BG: I was so lucky. Back then I called it grace, and sometimes I still do. I got a great job working at Playbill Online, which in the 90s was new and cutting-edge, and established myself as a writer and advice columnist while I pursued acting. I knew I wanted to use theater for healing, and thought I discovered drama theapy, which I got a Master’s degree in. That evolved into being a workshop leader and psychotherapist. After working with some women in high positions, I learned about leadership and organizational consulting and studied it fervently, which is what I do now—teach people to become stellar leaders and create super-functional organizations or projects that people actually enjoy working at.

BB: What do you now believe about “the spiritual path”? And how does it influence your work as a human intelligence advocate and executive coach?

BG: I don’t believe that “enlightenment” is a thing. Life is a blend of light and dark. But I still believe in teachers. Anything you want to learn you will learn faster with the right teacher. Why not spirituality / wisdom? But what most spiritual paths and teachers miss is that the goal is to get what you need from that teacher and move on. [Author’s note: this one’s a hornet’s nest for girls with mother wounds. I speak from experience.] Communities that thrive have ways for students to become teachers. I still believe that getting involved in a spiritual community or practice—with your eyes open, doing no harm to yourself or others, with a teacher whose authority you can question, is a worthwhile endeavor.

I have had some clients for years, but they are collaborative partnerships. My services are deeply valued, but I am not the source or the guru. With each client we have agreed upon outcomes, or as I like to call them, tasks. When those tasks are completed we part ways, unless new tasks have presented themselves and it makes sense to continue. But it’s all being discussed.

BB: What inspires you?

BG: Nature and beauty. Every day I notice something different or colorful growing in my LA neighborhood. I love the intimacy of a gentle wind, how it whispers in my ear. I love listening to other deep thinkers and taking in great art that touches me in ways I both can and can’t put into words. Also, taking a risk with my writing and having it land.

Thank you, Blair!
Reader, I urge you to find and read this book! I tore through it and I bet you will too.

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On another topic, Dear Reader, I’m doing something challenging right now, and while we talk all the time about taking risks in midlife (my movie even says “You’re not done!”), it’s hard to put into practice.

Despite many productions of my plays, the sale of a book and a few screenplays, a feature film on the festival circuit and streaming, I have never staffed in a writer’s room.

And so, with a desire to write on someone else’s TV staff and spend days breaking story and solving character problems, I have put myself into the Writers Guild East’s Staff Writer Bootcamp. It’s an awesome workshop, and I’m learning so much and really loving the cohort. But I’m not going to lie, it is humbling to be in a room with writers who are, for the most part, younger than me. Some are playwrights, some are late-night writers, some come from sketch comedy, some are straight out of grad school. Many of the mentors are my peers, and some are even my friends. This workshop is exactly what I need and this is where I need to be right now but at the same time, I feel vulnerable. I am looking for an entry-level job in a field where my peers have excelled and some of them have the power to let me in the proverbial room (or not). I have no idea what will happen or if I can get staffed, but I’m trying nonetheless and learning all I can. Wish me luck!

Are you taking a genuine risk right now? If so, tell me about it! I’d love to write about you for a future issue!

On recommendation of another midlife Substacker, I did some beauty stalking

Enjoy the Spring!

Love,
Brooke