To say goodbye.
No, not to Theosophy, not by any means. But to the Adyar Society and probably to all organized Theosophy as well.
Over a year ago I saw a face of the society that I hoped that I would never see. And having seen it resolved to give myself another year to see if things would improve. They have not. All I see is infighting and nonsense about elections and finances and now the damned beach at Adyar. It fills me with horror.
When I was living down near Chicago, I spent a lot of time at Olcott. I knew the staff and the officers of the Society. They were my friends, for the most part. I had some of the happiest days of my life there. And, some of the most poignant, like the day that Dora Kunz tried to console me after the death of my grandmother. Theosophists do not handle death well, we dont' quite know how to approach it. I mention my grandmother because when she learned that I had joined the TS, she was overjoyed. I never quite knew why.
But life changes. Life goes on. Life ends and now the only thing that I see in the Quest is the roll of the dead, as friend after friend from those days goes on to whatever awaits us all. I grow tired of mourning. I grow tired of nostalgia for a time in my life that is gone and will never come again.
But knowing those people caused me to make excuses for their bad behaviour at times, to justify things that I should not have. Good people have been hurt, good people have been driven away. And now it is time for me to leave as well. I have decided not to renew my membership after 30 plus years. It is hard to believe that I am leaving behind something that has been a part of me most of my adult life. But the sad truth is that the dream I had when I joined is long dead. And when a dream dies, there is nothing to be done but to get a new one.
People have wondered at my silence these last months. I had nothing to say. There was nothing to talk about. I had to take time, to be sure of my decision. And having made it, having crossed that Rubicon, I look back in sadness at what is lost, and what might have been. And then I will look back no more. I doubt that I will be missed much. I was more of a burden than a blessing, the ne'er-do-well nephew that the family rather wished would go off to the colonies or something. Perhaps they will breathe a sigh of relief at my departure, taking my heresies with me.
No doubt many will.
But make no mistake. I am still a Theosophist, albeit an extemely heretical one.