Hello

Heather Smith

In 2009, a year and a half after relocating from Northern California to Costa Rica, I attended an event at the Sat Yoga Institute in Escazú. The community initially seemed to align with what I was seeking: a spiritually oriented, intentional community grounded in non-dual teachings from Buddhism, Hinduism, psychotherapy, and the perennial philosophy. The members—mostly from the U.S., Canada, and Europe—were warm and welcoming. Shunyamurti, the teacher and leader, struck me as articulate and intellectually sophisticated. He offered spiritual psychotherapy, and I soon began one-on-one sessions with him, hoping a transpersonal approach might offer deeper transformation than conventional therapy.

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Early in our sessions, I shared my interest in joining an intentional community. I had researched various models and knew how difficult they are to create and sustain. I favored democratic or consensus-based governance. When I asked how the ashram would be run, Shunyamurti gave me cagey answers. In hindsight, I suspect I didn’t want to see what was already apparent: he intended to retain full control.

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After several months, I decided to end our sessions. It seemed the ashram would be autocratically governed. My two cats wouldn’t be allowed—a non-negotiable for me, as they were my family. During our final session, I thanked him for his guidance and explained my need to pause and reflect. Without hesitation he said, “You will fall into Maya.” I was taken aback. "Are you saying I need you to avoid falling into Maya (illusion)?" I asked. "No," he replied, though the implication of what he had said was clear. The gaslighting was unmistakable.

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He then invoked “the ark”—his metaphor for a safe sanctuary in a time of societal breakdown. "There is still space available on the ark now, but there won't always be," he said. I had shared my fears about societal collapse; he echoed them, now framing the ashram in the San Isidro Valley as a refuge. While I could accept his authority over the Institute, I was not willing to relocate to a remote rural area and surrender my autonomy to a man whose behavior increasingly struck me as manipulative. I’d heard the cautionary tales. I wasn’t about to drink the Kool-Aid.

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Around this time, the community had just acquired land for the ashram. I visited and attended a development meeting with about twenty others. Though the land was beautiful and the vision compelling, Shunyamurti’s behavior raised serious concerns about his spiritual maturity. I sensed I was nearing a turning point.

Rather than leave quietly, I decided to make my departure a teachable moment. I sent a friendly, respectful email to the ashram development group, asking how the ashram would be governed. A few members responded positively, suggesting a group discussion. From Shunyamurti: silence. I stopped attending group events. A month later, I received a scathing email from Shunya, accusing me of lacking every yogic virtue and harming the community. That letter, combined with his earlier conduct, confirmed my suspicion: Shunyamurti was far from the enlightened master he portrayed, but a man with considerable intellectual knowledge and little evidence of having integrated it.

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In my ten months at Sat Yoga, I witnessed a culture of groupthink. Only one person openly disagreed with Shunyamurti on anything of substance. His words were treated as unquestionable truth. I didn’t fully recognize this dynamic until after I left.

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Summary: My experience at Sat Yoga began with hope and openness but ended in disillusionment. I share this account not out of bitterness, but as a caution to others seeking spiritual community. Charisma and intellect can mask deeper issues. Ask hard questions. Trust your intuition. And never surrender your autonomy in the name of awakening.

Heather Smith