Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies: Lived Religion, Spirituality and Healing in the Nordic Countries (Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities) [1st ed. 2023] 3031381173, 9783031381171

Citation preview

PALGRAVE STUDIES IN NEW RELIGIONS AND ALTERNATIVE SPIRITUALITIES

Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies Lived Religion, Spirituality and Healing in the Nordic Countries

Edited by Daniel Enstedt Katarina Plank

Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities

Series Editors

Henrik Bogdan University of Gothenburg Gothenburg, Sweden

Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities is an interdisciplinary monograph and edited collection series sponsored by the International Society for the Study of New Religions. The series is devoted to research on New Religious Movements. In addition to the usual groups studied under the New Religions label, the series publishes books on such phenomena as the New Age, communal & utopian groups, Spiritualism, New Thought, Holistic Medicine, Western esotericism, Contemporary Paganism, astrology, UFO groups, and new movements within traditional religions. The Society considers submissions from researchers in any discipline. Editorial Board Bernard Doherty (Charles Sturt University, Australia) Fan Lizhu (Fudan University, China) J. Gordon Melton (Baylor University, USA) Erin Prophet (University of Florida, USA) James T. Richardson (University of Nevada, USA) Donald Westbrook (San Jose State University, USA) Manon Hedenborg White (Malmö University, Sweden)

Daniel Enstedt  •  Katarina Plank Editors

Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies Lived Religion, Spirituality and Healing in the Nordic Countries

Editors Daniel Enstedt Department of Literature, History of Ideas, and Religion University of Gothenburg Gothenburg, Sweden

Katarina Plank Department of Political, Historical, Religious and Cultural Studies Karlstad University Karlstad, Sweden

Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities ISBN 978-3-031-38117-1    ISBN 978-3-031-38118-8 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 Chapter 10 is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). For further details see licence information in the chapter. This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the ­publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and ­institutional affiliations. Cover image credit line: Hero Images Inc. / Alamy Stock Photo This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG. The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland Paper in this product is recyclable.

Acknowledgments

This volume is the product of cooperation with colleagues in Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden. We would like to thank you for your contributions and support during the editing process. We are deeply grateful to the Nordic scholars who engaged themselves in anonymously reviewing the chapters. We would also like to extend a special thank you to Professor Knut A.  Jacobsen in the Department of Archeology, History, Cultural Studies and Religion at the University of Bergen, for his review and constructive comments on the full manuscript. We would also like to thank our own departments for enabling us to spend time on this project: the Department of Literature, History of Ideas and Religion at University of Gothenburg, and the Department of Political, Historical, Religious and Cultural Studies at Karlstad University. On a more personal note, we thank our supportive friends, partners, and family members.

v

Contents

Introducing Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies  1 Daniel Enstedt and Katarina Plank Part I Embodiment, Movements, and Practices  27  Catharsis in the Spruce Forest: Osho Meditations and Therapy at a Spiritual Retreat in Norway 29 Henriette Hanky  Getting Past the Ego: Modern Advaita and the Cultivation of a Nondual Habitus 51 Elin Thorsén  Modern Yoga and the Nordic Body: Between Authenticity and Cultural Appropriation 71 Marianne Qvortrup Fibiger  Kirtan: Music, Emotion, and Belonging in Finnish Holistic Spirituality 93 Tero Heinonen

vii

viii 

Contents

 Art of Living and Transcendental Meditation: Eastern Practices for the “Scientifically Minded Westerner”117 Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen Part II Aesthetics, Nature, and New Contexts 139  Embodying Qi in the Nordic Countries: The Healing Practices of Zhineng Qigong141 Daniel Enstedt  Aikido’s Spirituality and Transplantation in the Nordic Countries: Spirituality in the Asian Martials Art165 Tuomas Martikainen and Kimi Kärki  Towards Watery and Vibrating Bodies: Finnish Bodies Learning Tibetan Sound Healing191 Linda Annunen and Terhi Utriainen  Meditation and Other New Spiritual Practices in the Church of Sweden211 Katarina Plank, Linnea Lundgren, and Helene Egnell  Acem and the Psychology of Meditation: The Inner History of a Living Practice231 Halvor Eifring  Shinrin-Yoku in Sweden: The Political Significance of Embodiment and Sensory Attention in Nature257 Henrik Ohlsson  Starving the Animal Within: Vegetarianism as Spiritual Development and Eastern Wisdom in Early Swedish Theosophy277 Johan Nilsson Index295

List of Contributors

Linda Annunen  Faculty of Arts, Psychology and Theology, Åbo Akademi University, Turku, Finland Helene  Egnell Department of Political, Historical, Religious and Cultural Studies, Karlstad University, Karlstad, Sweden Halvor Eifring  Department of Culture Studies and Oriental Languages, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway Daniel Enstedt  Department of Literature, History of Ideas, and Religion, University of Gothenburg, Gothenburg, Sweden Marianne Qvortrup Fibiger  Department of Religious Studies, Aarhus University, Aarhus, Denmark Henriette Hanky  Department of Archeology, History, Cultural Studies and Religion, University of Bergen, Bergen, Norway Tero Heinonen  Faculty of Arts, Psychology and Theology, Åbo Akademi University, Turku, Finland Kimi Kärki  Cultural Study of Music, Sibelius Academy, University of the Arts Helsinki, Helsinki, Finland Linnea Lundgren  The Department of Civil Society and Religion, Marie Cederschiöld University, Stockholm, Sweden Tuomas  Martikainen  Swedish School of Social Science, University of Helsinki, Helsinki, Finland ix

x 

List of Contributors

Johan  Nilsson Centre for Theology and Religious Studies, Lund University, Lund, Sweden Henrik  Ohlsson Historical and Contemporary Studies, Södertörn University, Huddinge, Sweden Katarina  Plank Department of Political, Historical, Religious and Cultural Studies, Karlstad University, Karlstad, Sweden Elin Thorsén  Department of Literature, History of Ideas, and Religion, University of Gothenburg, Gothenburg, Sweden Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen  Department of Archaeology, History, Religious Studies and Theology, UiT The Arctic University of Norway, Tromsø, Norway Terhi  Utriainen Faculty Helsinki, Finland

of

Theology,

University

of

Helsinki,

Notes on Contributors

Linda Annunen holds a Ph.D. in the study of religions at Åbo Akademi University, Finland. Her research interests include ritual studies, ethnographic methods, religion and wellbeing, and religion and sound. Her previous work consists of ethnographic fieldwork and publications focusing on neo-shamanistic and West African drumming, as well as singing bowl sound healing rituals, as they are performed in present-day Finland. Helene Egnell holds a Doctor of Theology from the University of Uppsala in 2006 with the dissertation Other Voices: A Study of Christian Feminist Approaches to Religious Plurality East and West. She has contributed texts to several anthologies on interfaith dialogue and theology of religions, among them Pope Francis and Interreligious Dialogue (eds Harold Kasimov and Alan Race). She is an ordained minister in the Church of Sweden and oversaw the Centre for Inter Faith Dialogue in the Diocese of Stockholm between 2008 and 2020. She is currently engaged in the research project “New Faces of the Folk Church” at Karlstad University. Halvor Eifring is Professor of Chinese at the University of Oslo, Norway, with publications ranging from Norwegian slang and Chinese linguistics to the cultural history of meditation and mind-wandering in contemplative traditions. He has practiced Acem meditation since 1976 and spends most of his spare time as an honorary volunteer in Acem. He has taught meditation around the globe, founded Acem Taiwan in 1986, and is currently head of Acem Norway and general secretary of Acem International.

xi

xii 

Notes on Contributors

Daniel Enstedt is an associate professor and Senior Lecturer in Religious Studies in the Department of Literature, History of Ideas, and Religion at the University of Gothenburg, Sweden. His current areas of scholarship are contemporary religion in Western Europe, examining lived religion and social mobility among migrants in Sweden, spiritual health practices in Zhineng Qigong, and religion and spiritualities in healthcare encounters. Marianne Qvortrup Fibiger is an associate professor in the Department of Religious Studies at the Aarhus University, Denmark. Her special areas of interest include principal contemporary Hinduism—especially outside India such as Sri Lanka, Mauritius, and Denmark—guruism, goddess worship, the relationship between Hindu history and contemporary representations also in Europe (yoga, karma). Among recent releases written in English: “What are Religious Hotspots—an introduction” (in Numen No. 70, 2023); “Responses to Covid–19: New Paradigms of Exclusion and Inclusion in Indian Society” (in Nordic Journal of Law and Social Research No. 12, 2022); “Crossover Hinduism” (in Religions, 2021); “Hinduism in Denmark,” “Floating Hindu Tropes in European Culture and Languages” in Handbook of Hinduism in Europe Brill (2020). “Globalization (Hinduism),” “Syncretism (Hinduism),” and “Murtis” in Encyclopedia of Indian religions (2020). Henriette  Hanky is a Ph.D. candidate in the study of religions at the University of Bergen, Norway. She is working on an ethnographic dissertation project on contemporary forms of the Osho/sannyas movement in Scandinavia, Germany, and India. Her research and teaching interests include historical and contemporary guru and meditation movements, current forms of religion and spirituality in Europe and India, mediatization and embodied religion, sociology of religion, and qualitative research methods. Tero Heinonen is a Ph.D. candidate in the study of religions at the Åbo Akademi University, Finland. He is working on an ethnographic dissertation project on the role of music-making in contemporary spirituality and new religious movements in Finland. His research interests include the sociology and psychology of religious emotion, interaction ritual theory, role theories of religion, and musical experience in Indian guru movements and contemporary spirituality. Kimi Kärki works as a lecturer at the Cultural Study of Music, Sibelius Academy, University of the Arts Helsinki (Seinäjoki campus), Finland, and

  Notes on Contributors 

xiii

holds a title of “Docent in Cultural Heritage Studies” from the University of Turku and “Area and Cultural Studies” from the University of Helsinki. He has mainly written on the history of stadium rock spectacles, talking machines, future imagining, and fascist aesthetics in popular culture. He is the director of the project “Fascinating Fascism and its Affective Heritage in the Finnish Culture” (Kone Foundation, 2021–2024). He is also an internationally touring musician, with more than 40 releases in heavy metal, progressive rock, ambient, and as a singer-songwriter. He holds a 1st degree (Shodan) black belt in Aikido. Linnea Lundgren is an early career researcher employed as a lecturer in the Department of Civil Society and Religion at Marie Cederschiöld University, Stockholm, Sweden. Her research primarily focuses on issues concerning religion and civil society and more specifically at religious change in contemporary societies as well as the role of organizations in crises and disaster. Lundgren defended her Ph.D. thesis in 2021 concerning the governance of religious diversity in Sweden. Tuomas Martikainen is a rector in the Swedish School of Social Science at University of Helsinki, Finland. Martikainen received his Ph.D. in Comparative Religion from the Åbo Akademi University, Finland, in 2004; has also worked as a researcher and Professor of Ethnic Relations at the University of Helsinki, Finland; and as the director of the Migration Institute of Finland. His areas of expertise include immigrant religions, migrant integration, and contemporary religion. He has written widely in the topics, including the monograph Religion, Migration, Settlement (2013), and co-edited volumes Muslims at the Margins of Europe (with José Mapril and Adil Khan, 2019) and Routledge International Handbook of Religion in Global Society (with Jayeel Cornelio, François Gauthier, and Linda Woodhead, 2021). Martikainen holds a fourth-degree black belt in Aikido, has been the co-editor of the Finnish Aikido Journal (Aikidolehti), as well as trained other martial arts. Johan Nilsson is a Historian of Religion at the Centre for Theology and Religious Studies, Lund University, Sweden, where he is currently working on a research project about the reception of Buddhism in Swedish theosophy. He is the author of As a Fire Beneath the Ashes: The Quest for Chinese Wisdom Within Occultism, 1850–1949. Henrik Ohlsson is interested in human-nature relations from historical, ethnographic, and phenomenological perspectives, with a focus on the

xiv 

Notes on Contributors

spiritual or existential dimensions of those relations. For his Ph.D. thesis he conducted field research in the Nordic countries among people engaged in organized practice for a deepened connection with nature. This was part of a larger project studying nature relations and secularity in the Baltic Sea region and includes researchers in Sweden, Estonia, and Denmark. His earlier academic interests include issues concerning secularization in general and a particular focus on state policies toward religion in postSoviet Central Asia. Katarina Plank is an associated professor and Senior Lecturer in Religious Studies at Karlstad University, Sweden. Her ethnographic research focuses on lived religious perspectives of migrants and of contemporary spirituality in Sweden. She has a special research interest in Buddhism, meditation, and materiality. She is the principal investigator for the research project “The New Faces of the Folk Church,” and she is also involved in the research project “Religion in Times of Crises—Religious Responses to Covid-19.” Together with Enstedt she is researching everyday religion, social mobility, and integration among different migrant groups of Christian, Muslim, and Buddhist traditions. Elin Thorsén holds a Ph.D. in Religious Studies from the University of Gothenburg, Sweden. Her research interests include lived religion, contemporary global guru movements, and modern Advaita. Her doctoral thesis was an ethnographic account of internationally frequented satsangs in Rishikesh. Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen holds a Ph.D. in Religious Studies (2021) and is currently employed at University of Tromsø (UiT) The Arctic University of Norway. Her research interests are modern postural yoga, new age and Hindu-inspired new religious movements, religion and gender, and religion and nature. She has written several articles on AoL, TM, and Amma, and co-edited several anthologies. Terhi  Utriainen is professor in the study of religion at the Faculty of Theology, University of Helsinki, Finland. She is an ethnographer of religion whose research focuses on contemporary vernacular religion, religion and gender, ritual studies, as well as death, dying, and suffering. She is the director of the research project “Learning from New Religion and Spirituality” (Academy of Finland 325148).

List of Tables

Modern Yoga and the Nordic Body: Between Authenticity and Cultural Appropriation Table 1 Your understanding of yoga Table 2 The most important features you relate to yoga

79 79

Meditation and Other New Spiritual Practices in the Church of Sweden Table 1 The first coding shows the different kind of activities taking place outside of worship and concerts Table 2 Results from the second coding: remaining activities with a holistic character

220 222

xv

Introducing Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies Daniel Enstedt and Katarina Plank

Introduction For several decades, we have seen growth in the Nordic countries of various religious and spiritual practices that, at first glance, seem to have originated in what is referred to as “the East.” These “Eastern practices” include yoga, meditation, tantra, spiritual retreats, acupuncture, Ayurveda, mindfulness, and qigong—to mention but a few. Such practices are, from time to time, adopted without much ado in areas and places where more explicit expressions of religion would be more or less impossible, for instance, in public schools and healthcare, but also in other municipal and

D. Enstedt (*) Department of Literature, History of Ideas, and Religion, University of Gothenburg, Gothenburg, Sweden e-mail: [email protected] K. Plank Department of Political, Historical, Religious and Cultural Studies, Karlstad University, Karlstad, Sweden e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_1

1

2 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

state agencies, as well as in professional development and leadership training in corporations. Such alternative practices can be understood and packaged as health promoting, relaxing, and stress reducing, but also as part of an explicit and articulated spiritual and holistic practice. These alternative spiritual and holistic practices have frequently been marketed and legitimized as medicalized and professionalized products (Barcan and Johnston 2011; Enstedt 2014; Farrer and Whalen-Bridge 2011; Fields 2001; Harrington 2008; Plank 2011; Prohl and Zinser 2002; Singleton 2010; Strauss 2005; Urban 2003; Wilson 2014). There has been criticism, for instance, from more established religions, the New Atheist movement, and other positions, that questions these practices’ rationale. At the same time, many of these practices have roots in more established Buddhist and Hindu traditions, as well as in other New Age, Theosophical, and spiritualist practices, groupings, and movements. This volume seeks to explore the reception, development, and construction of “Eastern practices” in the Nordic countries. Besides a geographical focus on the Nordic countries, the volume examines embodied practices aligned with different expressions of religiosity, alternative medicine, spirituality, and healing. By articulating questions about how Eastern practices have been embodied, spread, and materialized, this volume aims to shed light on a cultural shift in the Nordic societies regarding religious, spiritual, and alternative health practices that at times are at odds with the dominant medical discourse of life-threatening diseases and other conditions. By anchoring, in a specific Nordic context, spiritual and religious practices derived from, influenced by, or associated with Eastern practices, this anthology aims to discuss: issues related to the reception of Eastern practices in the Nordic countries; the places and contexts in which these practices are practiced in the Nordic countries; their practitioners’ characteristics, understandings of the practices, and views of life, legitimacy, authenticity, and authority; theoretical perspectives on aspects such as East/West, secularization/de-secularization, and religious change in the Nordic countries; the relationship between science and practices in the area studied; and historical aspects.1

“Eastern practices” The societal reception and use of “Eastern practices” can be understood as part of a larger wave of Asian cultural influence that led sociologist Colin Campbell to argue that Western civilization since the 1960s has

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

3

undergone a deep change in values, ideas, and practices that he terms “the Easternisation of the West” (Campbell 2008). This “Easternisation” involves a wide range of everyday practices, including bodily practices for self-defense and health such as judo, taekwondo, karate, tai chi, qigong, and yoga; medical systems such as acupuncture, shiatsu, Ayurveda, and reiki; systems for home styling such as feng shui and KonMari; food habits and influences from a wide range of cuisines such as Chinese, Indian, Thai, Japanese, and Korean; and mental practices including many different meditation practices, such as Vipassana meditation, TM, Zen, and tantric meditation. Ideas and practices whose narratives are closely associated with rationality and spirituality have been especially successful in finding their way into new cultural contexts. Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism, and East Asian popular religiosity seem to be “open” and “usable” as well as “portable” and “transposable” (Borup 2017). The “Easternization” process is also a process of exchange between East and West (Borup and Fibiger 2017; Nair-Venugopal 2012). Sometimes the differences between meditation and bodily practices might not be very distinct, since the practices aim to operate in both the inner and outer dimensions of the body. The influence of Eastern practices has also contributed to the development of somatic psychology and mind/ body therapies that emphasize experiencing inner or internal physical perceptions, as they aim to overcome the perceived dichotomy in Cartesian dualism between body and mind. In short, they emphasize the living experience of embodiment (Barratt 2013; also see Annunen and Utriainen’s chapter in this volume). Some of the mind/body practices of Asian origin can function as “crossover practices” and as such are used by individuals belonging to different religious or cultural traditions, both religious and non-religious, and they appear in many different circumstances. To give just one example, mindfulness is a form of meditation that can be found among Buddhist groups as well as post-Buddhist or secular groups (Husgafvel 2023; Plank 2014) and in different domains, such as religion, wellness, science, and the market (Wilson 2017). With an origin in Buddhist monastic practice, meditation became widespread among lay Asian Buddhists during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and later attracted Westerners traveling in Asia after the Second World War. Some of these people began teaching in the West on their return, developing new interpretations and programs. One of these, mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR), has widely circulated in the Nordic countries, not only in cognitive behavioral

4 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

therapy but also in the public health sector, at health centers and workplaces, in families, and in individual religious life (Plank 2014). Although mindfulness is one of the most visible expressions of the latest wave of new spirituality, it is not an isolated phenomenon in the Nordic countries but is instead representative of a way of thinking on the boundary between belief and knowledge, religion, and science (e.g., Plank 2011, 213–220). As a crossover practice, mindfulness, like yoga, can be a shared reference point between different groups; these crossover practices “not only challenge concepts such as syncretism and eclecticism but can also give an idea of how concepts flow and generate new meaning,” and this will also affect how different groups are associated with Asian religious traditions (Fibiger 2021, 1). Furthermore, mindfulness can be said to be part of what Anne Harrington has called the “Eastward journeys” of Western societies, in which the reception of so-called Eastern, or Asian, philosophies and religions has increasingly been aligned with issues related to health and medicine, especially stress-related problems. Furthermore, these Eastward journeys revolve around a particular narrative that makes it clear that the stressful, modern Western life “has damaged our hearts, undermined our immune systems, and made us far more unhappy than we had ever imagined we would be” (Harrington 2008, 206). The solution is found in the “wisdom” traditions of the East: “We must find ways to learn from these people of the East, and in that process of learning, discover ways to heal ourselves” (Harrington 2008, 207). Harrington sums up the dictum of the “Eastward journeys” narrative and its inverted orientalist trope: “The East is not only a spiritually but also a medically exemplary place. Its traditional doctors and spiritual teachers are skilled in ways of mind–body and holistic healing that we have lost, forgotten, or simply never known” (Harrington 2008, 208). Although the distinction between and construction of the “East” and the “West” are deeply problematic, many spiritual and religious practices today are presented as Eastern. At the same time, such practices often seek legitimacy from Western medicine through adopting more scientific language for describing their spiritual and religious expressions and through referring to evidence-based research. As Anya P. Foxen (2020) and Mark Singleton (2010, 2017) have shown in recent publications, these “Eastern practices” have actually largely been influenced by and have incorporated movement and body therapies developed in the West, further destabilizing the East–West dichotomy. This is

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

5

discussed by Fibiger in this volume, and she also notes centripetal and centrifugal tendencies in the development of yoga in Denmark, that is, to what extent practitioners distance themselves from or approach the Hindu tradition.

The Nordic Context This circulation of ideas, practices, and networks between East and West is, however, always localized in a specific setting, just as religion always takes place somewhere (Knott 2005). As one such localized setting, the Nordic countries and their religious landscapes share many similarities. As a geographical and cultural region in northern Europe, the Nordic countries of Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden have long been dominated by Evangelical Lutheran state churches with strong relationships with the states and have featured considerable religious homogeneity, although their religious landscapes have recently diversified (Nordin 2023). The similarities between the Nordic countries can provide a basis for understanding specific developments and trends. At times the Nordic countries are lumped together as one homogenous region, as illustrated by terms such as the “Nordic model” or the “Nordic welfare system.” Gurid Aga Askeland and Helle Strauss (2014, 243) described “equality in relation to social security, free health care, education and job opportunities” as some of the ideals of the Nordic welfare state, and Haug et al. (2020, 6) further explained that “key features of the ‘Nordic model’ include mixed economies, social democratic politics, high levels of taxation, welfare provision and a commitment to gender equality, social cohesion and limiting income inequality and differences between social classes.” Although it is possible to distinguish several overlapping commonalities, we of course acknowledge the differences between the Nordic countries. This is not the place to give either a full description of the history and development of the Nordic countries or a detailed description of the religious landscape of each country. Instead, we need to delimit ourselves to establishing a more general framework in which to view the reception of the studied Eastern practices in the social and religious milieu of the Nordic countries. In a Nordic context, Furseth et al. (2017) have concluded that large percentages of the Nordic countries’ populations are still members of the Evangelical Lutheran majority churches. However, these churches have seen a steady decline both in membership and in religious beliefs and

6 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

practices, and many people now have no religious affiliation—trends that can be signs of secularization at the individual level. Simultaneously, there is growing religious diversity, including of alternative spirituality (see also Mikaelsson 2017, about the Norwegian context). The Nordic countries have been described as secular with highly individualized populations that share secular–rational values (Berger et  al. 2008, 12; Inglehart and Welzel 2010, 554; Norris and Inglehart 2011, 60, 277–278). Non-religion among the Nordic populations has been described at length. Phil Zuckerman, for instance, proposed that three interrelated factors explain the current non-religious situation among Danes and Swedes: a state church monopoly, a successful welfare state, and working women (Zuckerman 2008, 117). However, a closer look at the former and present Nordic state churches reveals that most citizens are still members, although the numbers are steadily decreasing. In 2020, 55.2 percent of Swedes were members of the Church of Sweden (Svenska kyrkan 2022); 72 percent of Danes were members of the Danish National Church in 2023 (Statista 2023); and 64.9 percent of Norwegians were members of the Church of Norway in 2021 (Statistisk sentralbyrå 2023). In 2021, membership of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland included 66.5 percent of the population (Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland 2023). The obvious discrepancy between the number of active church members—around 5 percent of the population—and the total number of members—around 55 percent in Sweden—can be described as a situation in which most people belong without believing or are only culturally religious (Kasselstrand 2015; Zuckerman 2008). Furthermore, the five percenters are, to use a Grace Davie term, the “vicarious religious,” that is, an active minority performing religion “on behalf of a much larger number, who (implicitly at least) not only understand, but, quite clearly, approve of what the minority is doing” (Davie 2007, 22). As these numbers show, there are some general trends concerning religion in contemporary Sweden as well as the other Nordic countries. It is notable that most people are still members of a religious congregation or group, and only around a quarter of the population has no religious affiliation. The demographic factor (i.e., there are more elderly church members than younger ones) indicates that the number of church members will decrease. However, de-­ Christianization does not necessarily mean that the Nordic populations are becoming less “religious.” While the memberships of the (former) state churches are declining, we are witnessing increased religious activity

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

7

among other religious groups. Beside the (former) state churches, there are free churches, other types of Christianity, and religions often based on recent migrant flows from around the world. The religion that has increased the most in number of followers is Islam, and the number of Muslims is expected to continue increasing with migration and childbirth among the Muslim population. The Pew Research Center estimates that at least 8 percent of Sweden’s population were Muslim in 2016, while around 5 percent of the populations of Denmark and Norway were Muslim at the same time. In Finland, the equivalent proportion was 2.7 percent in 2016. In all Nordic countries these numbers are expected to increase up to 2050, even without any immigration (PEW Research Center 2017). Even though that may be the case—the future, like the weather, is difficult to predict—questions can be raised about what that means regarding variations in religious practice, beliefs, and engagement among the future Muslim population (Thurfjell and Willander 2021). In addition to an increasing Muslim population in the Nordic countries, there are also minorities of the populations identifying as Buddhists, Hindus, Jews, Sikhs, and so on (see, e.g., Borup 2005; Fibiger 2020; Rosén-Hockersmith 2015; Jacobsen 2020; Martikainen 2013; Myrvold 2015; Plank 2015). Importantly, although this volume is about “Eastern practices” in the Nordic countries, we do not consider, for instance, Theravada Buddhists from Thailand, Sikhs from India, or Muslims from Indonesia living in Sweden.

Spirituality in the Nordic Countries The religious situation in the Nordic countries can be described using the concepts and typology developed by Jörg Stolz and colleagues when examining the religious situation in Switzerland. They suggested four types that can be distinguished on a scale plotting “institutional religiosity” against “alternative spirituality.” These types are institutional religiosity, alternative spirituality, a distant type, and a secular type (Stolz et al. 2016, 51–63). Modeling religious affiliation in this way illustrates a range of positions in the current religious landscape in the Nordic countries. While much previous research has discussed the relationship between the established-institutional type and the distanced-institutional type, especially in relation to the state churches and the free churches, the alternative type—the “Sheilaists” and the “esotericists”—and the secular type need more comment.

8 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

The alternative type has been difficult to measure statistically due to the lack of membership, difficulties in operationalizing “alternative spirituality” in survey questions, and the fact that people may not recognize themselves as part of an “alternative spirituality” group despite regularly engaging in alternative spiritual practices. Nevertheless, according to a Pew report, 15 percent of the Swedish population, 11 percent of the Norwegian population, 14 percent of the Finnish population, and 12 percent of the Danish population describe themselves as “spiritual but not religious” (PEW Research Center 2018, 122), while 39–46 percent of the Nordic population agree with the statement “I feel a connection to something that cannot be seen or measured scientifically” (PEW Research Center 2018, 125). The different percentages illustrate the difficulty of measuring “alternative spirituality” as well as the eclectic character of this type of practice. A person may affirm belief in reincarnation, angels, and a personal God and practice yoga, while another may affirm belief in healing through practicing qigong while holding a scientific–rationalistic view on life, in opposition to religion and spirituality (Enstedt 2014). In fact, the new forms of alternative spirituality may even explicitly distance themselves from religion and align themselves with more scientific, medical, and therapeutic language (Conrad 2007; Enstedt 2014; Enstedt and Hermansson 2018; Füredi 2004; Horii 2018; Hornborg 2012). This distance from “religion” can be understood in relation to prevailing ideas and values linked to notions of autonomy and anti-authoritarianism in many parts of the world today (Stolz et al. 2016, 47–48). The distinction Linda Woodhead and Paul Heelas made between life-as and subjective-life religion also sheds light on this relatively new situation, in which people distance themselves from prescribed life-as religion in which authority is in established institutions, texts, and leaders, and instead turn to types of subjective-life religion, in which authority is instead situated in the individual (Heelas and Woodhead 2005, 61). This latter form of “religion” is sometimes referred to as “spiritual but not religious” (SBNR) (Parsons 2018). Closely related to those who are SBNR are the “nones.” The Pew Research Center sums up the situation of the “religiously unaffiliated” (or “nones”) in North America as follows: The absence of a religious affiliation does not necessarily indicate an absence of religious beliefs or practices. On the contrary, as the report makes clear, most of the “nones” say they believe in God, and most describe themselves as religious, spiritual or both. (PEW Research Center 2012, 7)

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

9

This means that there are people in the Northern hemisphere who are not committed to a religious community or to dogmas, rituals, or texts, but who still share views and beliefs held in religious traditions, spiritual groups, and currents. The wide spectrum of beliefs within this statistically aggregated group needs to be acknowledged. The category of “nones” includes atheists and critics of religion, some SBNR people who label themselves as spiritual and religious without having any religious affiliation, as well as people who distance themselves from the terms “spiritual” and “religious” but still hold beliefs and engage in practices that can be understood as spiritual or religious (Lee 2015; Parsons 2018). Those in the last group tend to use scientific language, drawing especially on biomedicine and psychotherapy to legitimize various practices and so gain authority (Lewis and Hammer 2007). This science-like character of the spiritual revolution makes it even harder to distinguish religion from spirituality (Carrette and King 2005; Enstedt 2014; Hornborg 2012). Another, admittedly more clear-cut way to describe the situation is to use sociologist Thomas Luckmann’s (1967) term “invisible religion,” which Luckmann set in contrast to ecclesiastic-oriented religion, that is, “visible religion.”2 In short, like many other so-called functionalists, Luckmann argued that the diverse social forms of religion are changing in society, but not necessarily decreasing. This type of argument is based on an idea of homeostasis, in which one expression of “religion” will be replaced with other forms of “religion” at times not even recognizable as such. Metaphorically, as Daniel Andersson and Åke Sander and (2005, 73) put it, religious traditions are “more like rivers than like mountains” (our translation). Monolithic and essentialist understandings of religion (as mountains) tend to miss the diverse and ever-changing character of religion (as rivers), at times not even recognizing “religion” as religion. Warren S. Goldstein argued for a dialectical understanding of secularization, and against a linear one: Religious movements in the direction of rationalization, and social movements in the direction of secularization, spawn religious countermovements in the direction of sacralization and dedifferentiation. These movements and countermovements are in conflict with each other. (Goldstein 2009, 175)

Understanding religious change dialectically also enables, we argue, an understanding of new forms of sacralization in society, forms not always seen as “religion,” that is, “invisible” forms (Luckmann 1967). In fact,

10 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

these new forms of “the sacred” may even explicitly distance themselves from religion and instead align themselves with more scientific, medical, and therapeutic language (Conrad 2007; Enstedt 2014; Enstedt and Hermansson 2018; Füredi 2004; Horii 2018; Hornborg 2012; Lynch 2012). Such distancing from “religion” can be understood in relation to different views of power, and in relation to ideas and values concerning notions of autonomy and anti-authoritarianism prevalent in many “modern” parts of the world. Stolz et al. (2016, 47–48) located the start of this shift from a “we-society” to a “me-society” in the 1960s. As the New Age and holistic milieu gradually emerged in the 1990s, becoming more popular and part of mainstream culture, Jespers (2014, 209) suggested that some of the new spiritualities are better understood as “secular sacralizations” with practices that still might have religious associations, “but function in a religiously limited way within a secular environment.” A prerequisite for Eastern practices having spread so widely in secular institutions and companies is that their religious and New Age associations have been downplayed. Instead, Eastern practices have, at least in part, been connected to what is perceived as authoritative science, which can in turn help strengthen rational and serious expressions of the movement. An interesting parallel to this aspect of the development of Eastern practices can be found in how Jon Kabat-Zinn tied mindfulness meditation to the more clinically charged concept of stress reduction in order to convince skeptics. As Anne Harrington (2008, 221) put it, “speaking of stress reduction rather than meditation was, he [i.e., Kabat-Zinn] felt, a nonthreatening way to persuade both the medical establishment and ordinary patients to test the potential of a practice they might otherwise have dismissed as kooky or cultish.” Secular social arenas have thus revisited religion, but in new forms from which what are sometimes perceived as the negative sides of religion have been removed. Eastern practices are embraced relatively uncritically, while more established religions such as Christianity and Islam are shifted to the private sphere and to religious institutions. A coach influenced by Eastern spiritual or healing practices can speak undisturbed in front of preschool staff and business leaders, which a priest or imam today finds it more difficult to do. Different religions, religious expressions, and phenomena have different degrees of access to different arenas in the public sphere as well as in society at large. Thus, the spatial aspects of the reception of Eastern practices are closely connected to other aspects related to specific habitus, where norms and values, language, practices, as well as bodily expressions, symbols, and

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

11

clothing are regulated and legitimized in site-specific ways. This means, in short, that the management-sounding, rationalized language and practices give practitioners of Eastern spirituality access to the corporate world and secular societal institutions and organizations, while talk of God, theology, and an emphasis on the importance of prayer life are given corresponding space within established religious traditions (Enstedt 2014). Such a shift is associated with what Anne-Christine Hornborg (2014, 148) called “a new form of spirituality emerging in the Western world [that] is characterized by a notion of a hidden essence within every human being, which everyone can develop in order to live life to the fullest.” This new Western spirituality is marked by a turn from a transcendent God, with associated goals and rewards, to a completely immanent existence in which one’s own possibilities for “salvation” are emphasized. This does not mean, however, that it is an individual or solipsistic activity: in this age of new individualism, new social relations, authorities, and power relations are emerging, with the coach and therapist being given prominent positions. Along with the more accepted and established religions, religiosity today takes on new forms not recognized as based on previous conceptions of religion. These new religious expressions and phenomena can be found in such disparate places as spas, health centers, gyms, pilgrimage sites, tai chi and qigong studios, preschools, the offices of doctors, therapists, and family counselors, and workplaces (see Enstedt 2014; Hornborg 2010). These expressions can very well be seen as a continuation of the New Age wave that has swept across Sweden on a large scale since the 1970s. Similar to New Age and alternative forms of spirituality, we are here dealing with religious expressions that do not immediately lend themselves to being categorized as religious (Hammer 1997). Moreover, this uncertainty seems to have increased in recent years as the more explicit religious notions—of divinity, the cosmos, spirituality—have been toned down. The new ideas have instead aligned themselves with evidence-based medicine and various forms of natural science and have focused on religious practice (Hornborg 2012). The new religious expressions are also gathered around a central notion that each person carries a higher self— from the sociologist of religion Paul Heelas’ concept—with the potential to develop (Heelas 2002, 370). Such a change in religiosity also has consequences for the image of God, as Liselotte Frisk (1998, 18) put it: “God is thus identified rather with the inner potential of man than with any supernatural being.”

12 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

To complicate the picture, in the Nordic countries the spiritual revolution is happening not only outside the former state churches but also within them. For instance, Enstedt (2014) has described how practices such as yoga, qigong, mindfulness, meditation, and the Enneagram also have attracted increased attention within a former state church. The fact that non-Christian spiritual practices are being practiced in an established Christian setting raises questions concerning the religious activities that are engaging the churches, and the types of theological (re)framing engaged in to legitimize these practices (see Lundgren and Plank in this volume; Enstedt 2014, 133–143). The preceding brief presentation on the shifting character of established religion and new forms of spirituality was intended to sketch a statistically, empirically, and theoretically grounded picture of a sort of aggregated ideal-type religiosity in the Nordic countries today. Although the distinctions described above are important, it is equally important to acknowledge the limits of such knowledge. To better understand new forms of religious and spiritual expressions in contemporary Nordic societies, more empirical and inductive research is required, not the least to avoid the reductionism implicit in the ideal-type religiosity and spirituality often captured in statistics and demographics, as well as in textbooks and online sources. However important this initial description of a changing religious landscape is, the point worth exploring further is what people in the Nordic countries believe and do. This is one of the central aims of this book, to be realized by focusing on the reception of Eastern practices in the Nordic countries.

The Contributions to this Book This book consists of two major parts. While Part I focuses on “Embodiment, Movements, and Practices,” Part II is about “Aesthetics, Nature, and New Contexts.” Part I emphasizes practices and traditions of an Eastern or Asian origin, with the first five chapters focusing on practices originating in India and the next two on practices from China and Japan. Part II is a collection of chapters exploring new contexts and developments. The chapters include both qualitative and quantitative studies of “Eastern practices” in Finland (i.e., Kirtan singing, aikido, and the use of the Tibetan singing bowl), Norway (i.e., Osho, TM, and Acem meditation), Denmark (i.e., yoga), and Sweden (i.e., Satsang and Advaita Vedanta, qigong, shinrin-yoku or forest bathing, vegetarianism among

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

13

Theosophists, and the adoption of meditation and other spiritual practices in the Church of Sweden). Unfortunately, we have not been able to present studies from Iceland. In the second chapter, “Catharsis in the Spruce Forest: Osho Meditations and Therapy at a Spiritual Retreat in Norway,” Henriette Hanky investigates how meditation techniques and therapeutic practices associated with the controversial guru Osho (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh) are implemented and made sense of at the Norwegian retreat center Dharma Mountain. Drawing on the teaching of the former Osho sannyasin and “modern mystic” Vasant Swaha, the center offers various retreats that combine Satsang and Osho meditations with local features. The chapter positions Dharma Mountain’s retreats in relation to both their historical background in the neo-sannyas movement and contemporary forms of Osho reception in the Nordic context. Based on ethnographic material, the analysis focuses on the retreats’ dramaturgy, which leads participants from cumbersome therapeutic self-enquiry and catharsis to experiences of bliss in encounters with the guru. The intended process of transformation is performed on and through participants’ bodies, creating powerful affective experiences while legitimizing the guru’s authority. The study notes the continuity of new religious movements’ legacies, not only in popularized and individualized forms but also in devotional communities arising around charismatic figures. The third chapter, “Getting Past the Ego: Modern Advaita and the Cultivation of a Nondual Habitus,” is a study by Elin Thorsén of modernized interpretations of the Indian philosophical system of Advaita (“nondual”) Vedanta that were popularized in the West starting in the nineteenth century. Although less well-known than other systems such as yoga, Modern Advaita is well established in the range of Indian-derived spiritual teachings and practices available on the global market. Today, Modern Advaita is being disseminated mainly through Satsangs (“meetings in truth”), that is, question-and-answer sessions in which a teacher enters into dialogue with the audience and offers discourses on nonduality. Many teachers post their Satsangs online or publish transcripts of them in books, which makes them available to a wider audience. The nondual teachings are seen as accessible to all, regardless of religious or cultural background. The question of how the nondual outlook of Modern Advaita is being lived and cultivated in the everyday life of individuals in a contemporary Western context has remained relatively unexplored. In this chapter, Thorsén approaches Modern Advaita as a lived religious system by

14 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

sketching out the characteristics of a nondual habitus among a group of interlocutors predominantly living in Northern and Western Europe, all engaged in nondual teachings and practices. On the basis of her findings, Thorsén argues that a contributing reason for the popularity of the system may be found in its practices’ perceived therapeutic qualities. Although negating one’s sense of individual identity may seem alien in such a context, the system’s promises to get past rather than needing to promote one’s self appear to have made Modern Advaita a viable spiritual option for a middle-class culture seeking alleviation from the pressures of an individualized, performance-driven society. The fourth chapter, by Marianne Qvortrup Fibiger, “Modern Yoga and the Nordic Body: Between Authenticity and Cultural Appropriation,” focuses on developments in Denmark where yoga, as in the other Nordic countries, has acquired immense popularity in religious and secular settings and has increasingly become a mainstream practice. Fibiger describes and analyses the development of yoga in the Danish context over a period of twenty years, giving examples of how yoga exhibits both centrifugal and centripetal tendencies. Centrifugal forms of yoga are when yoga is delinked from its Indian roots and relinked to another system of meaning, whether religious, spiritual, or secular. This is by far the most common type of yoga in contemporary Denmark. The opposing centripetal tendency, which involves a search for authenticity, rooting yoga in its “authentic” Indian background, has become a growing trend. These two tendencies or movements, away from and toward a “traditional” center, could also be termed cultural appropriation and reappropriation. This chapter argues that, although yoga has become more diverse and less distinct as a particular field, a trend that challenges how we categorize it, a focus on the body as a vehicle, microcosm, or prison that the yoga practitioner somehow must deal with is the pivot common to all forms of modern yoga in contemporary Denmark. In the fifth chapter, “Kirtan: Music, Emotion and Belonging in Finnish Holistic Spirituality,” Tero Heinonen explores how the practice of Kirtan—accompanied call-and-response singing—has secured a place in Finland’s holistic spirituality. The chapter is based on the doctoral fieldwork of Tero Heinonen consisting of interviews with Finnish “spiritual but not religious” Kirtan practitioners. Kirtan came to Finland with Hindu religious movements and then diversified, incorporating symbols and techniques borrowed from a variety of sources. Heinonen explores the underlying reasons for practicing Kirtan, how Kirtan informs

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

15

meaning-making among its practitioners, and what “therapeutic” results are expected from the practice. Kirtan seems to be associated with positive emotions, experiences of increased psychological wellbeing, and the therapeutic processing of emotions within collectively created musical and ritual spaces. Examining Kirtan from the perspective of the sociology of religion, Heinonen identifies collective emotion, musical intersubjectivity, and face-to-face interaction as the primary sources of Kirtan’s therapeutic results. He concludes that among its Finnish practitioners, Kirtan combines musical, emotional, embodied, and relational techniques to produce wellbeing and spiritual meaning for the individual through an empowering collective practice that sustains holistic spirituality in Finland. The sixth chapter is the last focusing on practices from India, “Art of Living and Transcendental Meditation: Eastern Practices for the ‘Scientifically Minded Westerner,’” by Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen. Art of Living (AoL) and Transcendental Meditation (TM) are two of the most globally successful Hindu-inspired or -derived meditation movements. In the West, the practices in AoL and TM fit into a late-modern and neoliberal “ideology” of holistic health, being intended to improve physical and mental health, relieve stress, and mitigate illness within a framework of person-centered holistic health and spirituality. In Norway, the AoL and TM organizations are relatively small but important providers of Eastern practices, and in this chapter, Bårdsen Tøllefsen presents a brief historical overview of the organizations and their emergence in Norway. She describes key practices in AoL and TM and notes how the practices are legitimated. Many legitimation strategies are used, such as social legitimation, traditional and charismatic authority, and blended legitimation focusing on science and Vedic wisdom. Medical scientific legitimation is an important external legitimator, but for engaged practitioners, the effects of individual experience and practice are the most relevant. Science, particularly medical science, seems to be taken for granted rather than actively used by Norwegian practitioners. Moving on to a Chinese practice, in the seventh chapter, “Embodying Qi in the Nordic Countries,” Daniel Enstedt examines the reception of Zhineng qigong in the Nordic countries. Enstedt aims to answer questions about the results and experiences the practice of Zhineng qigong has brought to its practitioners in terms of outlook on life, wellbeing, and health. Although many of the narratives, collected during autoethnographic fieldwork, describe healing that could be perceived as magical or miraculous, the emphasis in Zhineng qigong is on wellbeing and retaining

16 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

health; there is a downplaying of the spiritual and magical aspects of qigong. The repeated emphasis is on practice and results, not the teachings per se. Zhineng qigong is a practical undertaking that demands an investment of time, effort, and trust in the practice. In contrast to what is sometimes referred to as Westernized, individualized New Age spirituality, Zhineng qigong is not about self-expression, eclecticism, variation, or improvisation, but rather is a new form of collective liturgical practice. To achieve the desired results—that is, bodily, spiritual, and mental wellbeing—one must submit to and follow the prescribed movements as perfectly as possible. The practice of Zhineng qigong follows externally given rules and roles, although there are some expressions of internal authority. Another aspect of Zhineng qigong is the timeless understanding of qigong as the essence of religion, even though qigong is seldom described using the term “religion.” In the eighth and final chapter of Part I, “Aikido’s Spirituality and Transplantation in the Nordic Countries: Spirituality in the Asian Martial Arts,” Tuomas Martikainen and Kimi Kärki explore the relationship between religion, spirituality, and Japanese martial arts. Asian martial arts were introduced to the Nordic countries at the turn of the twentieth century and have been practiced as a mass phenomenon since the 1970s. The Nordic field of martial arts is today highly diverse, including many different arts, their various styles, and subsequently evolved national variants, with tens of thousands of practitioners and many more who have tried them. The chapter focuses on Aikido (“the way of harmonious spirit”), a modern Japanese martial art founded by Morihei Ueshiba (1883–1969). Aikido is rooted in Japanese Jujutsu as well as esoteric Neo-Shinto spirituality. Basic Aikido training is done in pairs in prearranged forms that include defensive techniques against strikes and grabs, ending in either a throw or submission. Aikido training emphasizes the “blending” (in Japanese, ai) of “energy” (in Japanese, ki) and discourages violent solutions to conflicts. Aikido practitioners are called aikidoka. Among the martial arts, Aikido has a reputation for being more spiritual than many others. There are an estimated 6000 active Aikido practitioners in the Nordic countries. The chapter discusses how senior Nordic aikidoka view Aikido’s history in the Nordic countries, its relationship to religion and spirituality, and its transformation in a new context. The main material for the chapter comprises interviews with four senior Aikido teachers from Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden. They have all trained for more than 30 years, have their own Aikido dojos, and are key national figures in the

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

17

broader Aikido community, teaching in both domestic and international training seminars. The interview material is supplemented with a variety of texts published in Aikido magazines, books, and online sources, as well as with academic literature on the topic. Both authors have long-term experience of Aikido. In Part II of the book, new contexts for Eastern practices are explored. In chapter nine, “Towards Watery and Vibrating Bodies: Finnish Bodies Learning Tibetan Sound Healing,” Linda Annunen and Terhi Utriainen analyze how Tibetan singing bowls are used in Finland. When becoming interested in new spiritual and holistic practices, people also learn new ways to imagine and enact bodies and embodiment. In the context of Finland, this implies that the formerly largely Lutheran understanding of the human body as earthbound and singular is becoming increasingly contested and challenged through reconstructions that often draw on Eastern philosophies, diverse mythologies, and scientific discourses. This chapter addresses how practitioners of sound healing in contemporary Finland learn to reimagine the human body as a union of water and vibration. Essential for this understanding of the body is the idea that sounds produced with therapeutic instruments, such as Tibetan singing bowls, have the ability to produce vibrations in body fluids, resulting in psychological, physical, and spiritual wellbeing. Through an ethnographic case study of sound healing, the chapter investigates how Finnish Lutheran and post-­ Lutheran bodies have become reinterpreted and, potentially, re-formed. We first briefly address the Lutheran and post-Lutheran understandings of the human body, and this short overview is followed by a closer look at processes and techniques undertaken when individuals learn to creatively interpret the body as water and vibration. Furthermore, we will illustrate how this kind of new embodiment can be transferred outside the learning context, and what kinds of affordances are provided by this particular way of interpreting the human body, in relation to other ways of understanding, relating to, and conceptualizing bodies. As Chris Shilling and Philip Mellor wrote in Re-forming Bodies: Religion, Community and Modernity (1997), the human body has been re-formed several times in the history of Western religiosity and modernity, and this re-formation continues. Annunen and Utriainen’s chapter engages in exploring bodily re-­ formations from the perspective of Nordic bodies learning in and through “Eastern” practices. The tenth chapter, “Meditation and Other New Spiritual Practices in the Church of Sweden,” deals with practices traditionally not found in the

18 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

Lutheran Church and how these are now integrated in its activities. Here Katarina Plank, Linnea Lundgren, and Helene Egnell draw on data from an ongoing research project that explores how spiritual practices labeled “New Age” have become widespread since the 1970s, with practices focusing in particular on “mind–body techniques” more recently being given more attention in the Church of Sweden. Their netnographic survey of the websites of the parishes in the Diocese of Stockholm shows that there is a plethora of new activities that have emerged over the last 50 years. Many of these activities are geared toward community building, and 15 percent of them fall into the category of holistic practices. Such practices, for example, meditation groups, yoga classes, and dance, can be found in eight out of ten parishes. These new spiritual practices were first offered in exclusive settings such as retreat centers, but have now moved into ordinary parish life, accessible to all parishioners. Some of the practices, such as Zen meditation and yoga, have been contested but are now broadly accepted. In the following, eleventh chapter, “Acem and the Psychology of Meditation: The Inner History of a Living Practice,” Halvor Eifring, who has practiced Acem since 1976, explores the inner history of the Norwegian organization Acem, the largest homegrown school of meditation in the Nordic countries, now with activities in several countries across Europe, Asia, and America. The chapter focuses on three characteristic features of this organization: its psychological framework, its meditation guidance, and its practice of long meditations. The organization was founded in 1966 and collaborated with the TM movement until a final break in 1972. By then, Acem had already started to develop an alternative psychological approach to meditation. Further developments continue to this day, including deepening retreats with long meditations starting in 1995 and round-the-clock meditations since 2001. Based on ten in-depth semi-­ structured interviews with central actors, the chapter aims to capture the subjective aspects of Acem’s inner history. This includes some of the motivations behind the organization’s establishment and changes, as well as personal reactions to some of these developments. In the twelfth chapter, “Shinrin-­ Yoku in Sweden: The Political Significance of Embodiment and Sensory Attention in Nature,” Henrik Ohlsson examines the practice of shinrin-yoku, usually translated as “forest bathing,” which originated in Japan in the 1980s. In the last decade, practices under this label have spread rapidly in Western countries and, since 2016, forest bathing has become established in Sweden. Ohlsson has

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

19

followed its development in Sweden through connections with leading practitioners, interviews, and participatory observations. In Western and Nordic contexts, the practice finds itself part of a wider movement at the intersections between wellbeing and green activism, and between medical science and holistic philosophy. Forest bathing, as practiced here, includes strong influences from many other sources besides Japanese shinrin-yoku, among which is at least one more source of arguably Eastern origin: that of mindfulness. One important development of forest bathing in the Swedish (or generally Western) context that distinguishes it from shinrin-­ yoku in the Japanese context is its increasing politicization and explicit association with radical green ideologies. This chapter has two main purposes: the first is to describe and discuss the establishment of shinrin-yoku in Sweden; the second is to understand how and why it has become politicized in this context. A key appears to lie in how embodiment and sensory attention are construed as breaking with what is seen as a Western paradigm of disconnection. In the thirteenth and final chapter, “Starving the Animal Within: Vegetarianism as Spiritual Development and Eastern Wisdom in Early Swedish Theosophy,” Johan Nilsson explores the Theosophical movement, which emerged in the late nineteenth century and served as an important context through which beliefs, practices, and social networks associated with Asian religion were disseminated in Europe during the early twentieth century. Early Theosophy favored the doctrinal and philosophical dimensions of Asian religion, and many of the movement’s activities were involved in the production and consumption of texts—lecturing, reading, writing, and publishing. This is not the complete story, however. Aspects of Theosophy could and did have clear consequences for the lifestyles and day-to-day activities of its adherents. One area where this was most pronounced relates to the subject of vegetarianism. Although no particular diet was a requirement for membership in the society, Theosophy promoted an ideal way of living of which vegetarianism was an important component. Furthermore, Theosophists envisioned the practice of a vegetarian diet as a form of discipline promoting not only the health but the spiritual development of the individual, while emphasizing a connection to the ancient wisdom of the East. Making use of empirical material consisting of Theosophical journals, books, and lecture transcripts, as well as daily newspaper articles, the chapter explores how Swedish Theosophists during the movement’s early period (1889–1914) imagined, practiced, and argued for vegetarianism. Placing Theosophical vegetarianism in the

20 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

context of the broader interest in vegetarian diets of the early twentieth century, the chapter focuses on how Theosophists constructed vegetarianism as simultaneously a spiritual and bodily practice, arguing that the Theosophical merging of spirituality and health prefigured and perhaps influenced late twentieth-century trends.

Suggestions for Future Research Many of the contributions in this volume examine a group or a phenomenon related to Eastern practices, and many of the chapters are based on ethnographic fieldwork through observations and interviews. In Studying Lived Religion (2021), Nancy T.  Ammerman emphasized the practice dimension of religiosity. Studying lived religion is about observing what people do and involves an explicit turning away from a more static understanding of religion in terms of statistics or an essentialized belief in God, dogmas, or texts (Ammerman 2021, 2). Even though a lived religion perspective may not resolve all the issues concerning religion and spirituality, we suggest that lived religion offers a way forward, as well as a central theoretical and methodological starting point that needs to be explored further when examining Eastern practices in the Nordic countries. That could, for example, mean a shift away from group-based research to instead following individual practitioners in everyday life, or focusing on emotions, materiality (e.g., food and clothing), embodiment, symbols (e.g., tattoos), or ritual aspects during fieldwork (cf. Ammerman 2016). We also need to better understand the reception of Eastern practices in diverse societal contexts and how these contexts in different ways form and are formed by these practices. That would mean including “secular” settings such as health care, schools, and workplaces, but also examining gyms, spas, and even established religious institutions (e.g., temples and churches). We also lack a combination of fieldwork and media studies, with online courses, films/videos, information, and discourses being analyzed together with material gathered during fieldwork. Although it is obvious that today we live in a mediatized world, it seems that at times, as scholars of religious studies, we disregard the influence of digital media in everyday life. We also lack quantitative studies that tell us more about how many people actually practice yoga, meditation, and other Eastern practices. Compared with Japan, another country with high levels of secular– rational values and “no religion” responses in surveys, in the Nordic

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

21

countries one must also take into account how the concept of “religion” is perceived in the general population (cf. Inglehart and Welzel 2010). If the discrepancy between the operationalization of “religion” in surveys and what ordinary people mean by “religion” is too great, the results of a survey may be misleading (see Horii 2018, 90). Distancing oneself from “religion” does not necessarily mean not participating in various activities in churches or temples; it could mean practicing meditation, qigong, or prayer, without labeling these practices as “religious.” In fact, there is a clear discrepancy between the operationalization of “religion” in various surveys and the ways in which people identify their own (non)religious and spiritual belonging (McGuire 2008). Turning to new forms of Eastern practices in the West, including new forms of religion, spirituality, and healing practices, it has been inherently difficult to measure the frequency of engagement in these practices at an aggregated level. Questions and items listed in surveys tend to be unable to capture the shifting trends in society, and it may be hard to draw conclusions from a positive answer to a statement such as “I do believe there is some other higher power or spiritual force in the universe” (PEW Research Center 2018, 119).

Notes 1. Few studies apply a Nordic outlook to Eastern practices and new spiritualities (for a global perspective, see Borup and Fibiger 2017; Nair-Venugopal 2012). Trends can be discerned in several separate mapping studies. Heelas and Woodhead’s (2005) pioneering work on the spiritual revolution and their case study of Kendall gave rise to several mapping studies of Nordic countries, for example, the studies of Enköping (Ahlstrand and Gunner 2008) and Dalarna in Sweden (Frisk and Åkerbäck 2013, 2015) and of Aarhus in Denmark (The Danish Pluralism Project) as well as the anthology Det mångreligiösa Sverige (Andersson and Sander 2005/2009/2015). The mapping studies have aimed to document and analyze the shift in the religious landscapes of the twenty-first century. Apart from Handbook of Nordic New Religions (Lewis and Bårdsen Tøllefsen 2015) and Western Esotericism in Scandinavia (Bogdan and Hammer 2016), only separate studies have been published on New Age movements and spirituality in Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Finland (i.e., Frisk 2015, 2017; Gilhus et al. 2017; Hammer 1997/2004; Rothstein 1997; Sohlberg and Ketola 2015). 2. Another way to put it is to use Edward Bailey’s (1997) theory of implicit religion.

22 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

References Ahlstrand, Kajsa, and Göran Gunner. 2008. Guds närmaste stad? en studie om religionernas betydelse i ett svenskt samhälle i början av 2000-talet. Stockholm: Verbum. Andersson, Daniel, and Åke Sander. 2005. Det mångreligiösa Sverige – ett landskap i förändring. Lund: Studentlitteratur. Ammerman, Nancy T. 2021. Studying Lived Religion: Contexts and Practices. New York: New York University Press. ———. 2016. Lived Religion as an Emerging Field: An Assessment of Its Contours and Frontiers. Nordic Journal of Religion and Society 2: 83–99. Askeland, Gurid Aga, and Helle Strauss. 2014. The Nordic Welfare Model, Civil Society and Social Work. In Global Social Work: Crossing Borders, Blurring Boundaries, ed. Carolyn Noble, Helle Strauss, and Brian Littlechild, 241–256. Sydney: Sydney University Press. Bailey, Edward I. 1997. Implicit religion in contemporary society. Kampen/The Netherlands: Kok Pharos Publ. House. Barcan, Ruth, and Jay Johnston. 2011. Fixing the Self: Alternative Therapies and Spiritual Logics. In Mediating Faiths: Religion and Socio-Cultural Change in the Twenty-First Century, ed. Michael Bailey and Guy Redden, 75–87. Surrey: Ashgate. Barratt, Barnaby B. 2013. The Emergence of Somatic Psychology and Bodymind Therapy. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Berger, Peter L., Grace Davie, and Effie Fokas. 2008. Religious America, Secular Europe? A Theme and Variations. Aldershot, England: Ashgate. Bogdan, Henrik, and Olav Hammer. 2016. Western Esotericism in Scandinavia. Leiden: Brill. Borup, Jørn. 2017. Pizza, Curry, Skyr and Whirlpool Effects: Religious Circulations Between East and West. In Eastspirit: Transnational Spirituality and Religious Circulation in East and West, ed. Jørn Borup and Marianne C.  Qvortrup Fibiger, 13–35. Leiden: Brill. Borup, Jørn, and Marianne Fibiger. 2017. Eastspirit: Transnational Spirituality and Religious Circulation in East and West. Leiden: Brill. Borup, Jørn. 2005. Dansk dharma: buddhisme og buddhister i Danmark. Højbjerg: Forlaget Univers. Campbell, Colin. 2008. The Easternization of the West: A Thematic Account of Cultural Change in the Modern Era. Boulder: Paradigm Publishers. Carrette, Jeremy R., and Richard King. 2005. Selling Spirituality: The Silent Takeover of Religion. London: Routledge. Conrad, Peter. 2007. The Medicalization of Society: On the Transformation of Human Conditions into Treatable Disorders. Baltimore, Md: Johns Hopkins University Press.

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

23

Davie, Grace. 2007. The Sociology of Religion. London: Sage. Enstedt, Daniel. 2014. Enneagramreceptionen i Sverige. Chaos: Skandinavisk tidsskrift for religionshistoriske studier 2: 115–148. Enstedt, Daniel, and Kristina Hermansson. 2018. Personal Utopia: The “Good Life” in Popular Religion and Literature in Contemporary Sweden. Culture Unbound 1: 128–150. Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland. 2023. The Church in numbers. https://evl.fi/the-­church/membership/the-­church-­in-­numbers. Accessed 9 March 2023. Farrer, D.S., and John Whalen-Bridge. 2011. Martial Arts as Embodied Knowledge. Albany: State University of New York Press. Fibiger, Marianne Q. 2021. Crossover Hinduism and Other Possible Categories When Dealing with Hinduism in Europe. Religions 12: 745. ———. 2020. Hinduism in Denmark. In Handbook of Hinduism in Europe, ed. Knut Jacobsen and Ferdinando Sardella, 946–961. Leiden: Brill. Fields, Gregory P. 2001. Religious Therapeutics: Body and Health in Yoga, Ayurveda, and Tantra. Albany: State University of New York Press. Foxen, Anya P. 2020. Inhaling Spirit: Harmonialism, Orientalism, and the Western Roots of Modern Yoga. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Frisk, Liselotte. 1998. Nyreligiositet i Sverige ett religionsvetenskapligt perspektiv. Nora: Nya Doxa. ———. 2015. New Religious Movements and Alternative Spirituality as an Academic Research Field in Sweden – Some Reflections. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, eds. James R. Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 311–324. Leiden: Brill. ———. 2017. New Age in Sweden A Comparison to Norway. In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Sælid Gilhus, Siv Ellen Kraft and James R. Lewis, 263–267. London: Equinox Publishing. Frisk, Liselotte, and Peter Åkerbäck. 2013. Den mediterande Dalahästen: religion på nya arenor i samtidens Sverige. Stockholm: Dialogos. ———. 2015. New Religiosity in contemporary Sweden: the Dalarna study in national and international context. Sheffield: Equinox. Füredi, Frank. 2004. Therapy Culture: Cultivating Vulnerability in an Uncertain Age. London: Routledge. Furseth, Inger, Lars Ahlin, Kimmo Ketola, Annette Leis-Peters, Pål Repstad, and Bjarni Randver Sigurvinsson. 2017. Changing Religious Landscapes in the Nordic Countries. In Religious complexity in the public sphere: comparing Nordic countries, ed. Inger Furseth, 31–80. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. Gilhus, Ingvild, Siv Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis. 2017. New Age in Norway. Bristol: Equinox Publishing. Goldstein, Warren S. 2009. Secularization Patterns in the Old Paradigm. Sociology of Religion 2: 157–178.

24 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

Hammer, Olav. 1997. På spaning efter helheten: New Age – en ny folktro. Stockholm: Wahlström. Harrington, Anne. 2008. The Cure Within: A History of Mind-Body Medicine. New York: W. W. Norton & Company. Haug, Erik Hagaseth, Tristram Hooley, Jaana Kettunen, and Rie Thomsen. 2020. Career and Career Guidance in the Nordic Countries. Leiden: Brill Sense. Heelas, Paul. 2002. The Spiritual Revolution: From ‘Religion’ to ‘Spirituality’. In Religions in the Modern World: Traditions and Transformations, ed. Woodhead, Linda, 357–375. London: Routledge. Heelas, Paul, and Linda Woodhead. 2005. The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion is Giving Way to Spirituality. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing. Horii, Mitsutoshi. 2018. The Category of “Religion” in Contemporary Japan: Shūkyō and Temple Buddhism. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. Hornborg, Anne-Christine. 2010. Marknadsföring av natur, hälsa och rituellt helande i det senmoderna Sverige. In Den rituella människan: flervetenskapliga perspektiv, ed. Hornborg, Anne-Christine, 151–169. Linköping: Linköping University Electronic Press. ———. 2012. Coaching och lekmannaterapi: en modern väckelse? Stockholm: Dialogos. ———. 2014. Att få flow i livet: Mind-body-terapin och coaching som nya helandemetoder. In Helig hälsa: helandemetoder i det mångreligiösa Sverige, eds. Moberg, Jessica & Ståhle, Göran, 145–166. Stockholm: Dialogos. Husgafvel, Ville. 2023. Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction as a Post-Buddhist Tradition of Meditation Practice. PhD dissertation Helsinki:. University of Helsinki, Faculty of Arts. Inglehart, Ronald, and Christian Welzel. 2010. Changing Mass Priorities: The Link between Modernization and Democracy. Perspectives on Politics 2: 551–567. Jacobsen, Knut. 2020. Hindu Traditions in Norway: Gurus, Places, Communities. In Handbook of Hinduism in Europe, ed. Knut Jacobsen and Ferdinando Sardella, 1241–1264. Leiden: Brill. Jespers, Frans. 2014. From New Age to New Spiritualities: Secular Sacralizations on the Borders of Religion. In New Age Spirituality, ed. Steven J. Sutcliffe and Ingvild Saelid Gilhus, 197–211. London: Routledge. Kasselstrand, Isabella. 2015. Nonbelievers in the Church: A Study of Cultural Religion in Sweden. Sociology of Religion 3: 275–294. Knott, Kim. 2005. The Location of Religion. Durham: Acumen. Lee, Lois. 2015. Recognizing the non-religious: Reimagining the secular. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lewis, James, and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen. 2015. Handbook of Nordic New Religions. Leiden: Brill.

  INTRODUCING EASTERN PRACTICES AND NORDIC BODIES 

25

Lewis, James R., and Olav Hammer, eds. 2007. The invention of sacred tradition. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Luckmann, Thomas. 1967. The Invisible Religion: The Problem of Religion in Modern Society. New York: Macmillan. Lynch, Gordon. 2012. The Sacred in the Modern World: A Cultural Sociological Approach. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Martikainen, Tuomas. 2013. Religion, Migration, Settlement: Reflections on Post-1990 Immigration to Finland. Leiden: Brill. McGuire, Meredith. 2008. Lived Religion: Faith and Practice in Everyday Life. New York: Oxford University Press. Mikaelsson, Lisbeth. 2017. Church Religion and New Age: An Encounter between Rivals? In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Gilhus, Siv Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis, 19–43. Equinox eBooks Publishing. Myrvold, Kristina. 2015. Sikher och sikhism: religiöst liv, representation och traditionsförmedling. In Det mångreligiösa Sverige: ett landskap i förändring, ed. Daniel Andersson and Åke Sander, 263–310. Lund: Studentlitteratur. Nair-Venugopal, Shanta. 2012. The Gaze of the West and Framings of the East. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Nordin, Magdalena. 2023. Migration, religion, integration. In Delmi Kunskapsöversikt 2023:2. Stockholm: SOU. Norris, Pippa, and Ronald Inglehart. 2011. Sacred and Secular: Religion and Politics Worldwide. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Parsons, William B. 2018. Being Spiritual but Not Religious: Past, Present, Future(s). Abingdon, Oxon: Routledge. PEW Research Center. 2018. Being Christian in Western Europe. The majority of Europe’s Christians are non-practicing, but they differ from religiously unaffiliated people in their views on God, attitudes toward Muslims and immigrants, and opinions about religion’s role in society. https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/2018/05/29/being-­christian-­in-­western-­europe/. Accessed 1 June 2022. ———. 2017. Europe’s Growing Muslim Population: Muslims are Projected to Increase as a Share of Europe’s Population – Even With no Future Migration. http://assets. pewresearch.org/wp-­content/uploads/sites/11/2017/11/06105637/FULL-­ REPORT-­FOR-­WEB-­POSTING.pdf. Accessed 1 June 2022. ———. 2012. “Nones” on the Rise: One-in-Five Adults Have No Religious Affiliation. http://www.pewforum.org/Unaffiliated/nones-­on-­the-­rise.aspx. Accessed 10 June 2022. Plank, Katarina. 2011. Insikt och närvaro: akademiska kontemplationer kring buddhism, meditation och mindfulness. Göteborg: Makadam. ———. 2014. Mindfulness: tradition, tolkning och tillämpning. Lund: Nordic Academic Press.

26 

D. ENSTEDT AND K. PLANK

———. 2015. Buddhister och buddhism: asiatisk migration, konvertiter och sekulär meditation. In Det mångreligiösa Sverige: ett landskap i förändring, ed. Daniel Andersson and Åke Sander, 203–261. Lund: Studentlitteratur. Prohl, Inken, and Hartmut Zinser. 2002. Zen, Reiki, Karate. Japanische Religiosität in Europa. Münster, Hamburg, London: LIT Verlag. Rosén-Hockersmith, Eva. 2015. Hinduer och Hinduism: Förnya(n)de tolkningar av den eviga ordningen. In Det mångreligiösa Sverige: ett landskap i förändring, ed. Daniel Andersson and Åke Sander, 141–202. Lund: Studentlitteratur. Rothstein, Mikael. 1997. Gud är blå: de nya religiösa rörelserna. Nora: Nya Doxa. Mellor, Philip A., and Chris Shilling. 1997. Re-forming the Body: Religion, Community, and Modernity. London: Sage. Singleton, Mark. 2010. Yoga Body: The Origins of Modern Posture Practice. Oxford: Oxford University Press. ———. 2017. Roots of Yoga. London: Penguin Books. Sohlberg, Jussi, and Kimmo Ketola. 2015. From Western Esotericism to New Spirituality: The Diversity of New Age in Finland. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 126–140. Leiden: Brill. Statista. 2023. Total population in Denmark from 2013 to 2023, by membership in the National Church. https://www.statista.com/statistics/573052/total-­ population-­in-­denmark-­by-­membership-­in-­the-­national-­church/. Accessed 9 March 2023. Statistisk sentralbyrå. 2023. Church of Norway. https://www.ssb.no/en/ kultur-­og-­fritid/religion-­og-­livssyn/statistikk/den-­norske-­kirke. Accessed 9 March 2023. Stolz, Jörg, et  al. 2016. (Un)believing in Modern Society: Religion, Spirituality, and Religious-Secular Competition. Abingdon: Routledge. Strauss, Sarah. 2005. Positioning Yoga: Balancing Acts Across Cultures. Oxford: Berg. Svenska kyrkan. 2022. https://www.svenskakyrkan.se/statistik. Accessed 13 May 2022. Thurfjell, David, and Erika Willander. 2021. Muslims by Ascription: On Post-­ Lutheran Secularity and Muslim Immigrants. Numen 4: 307–335. Urban, Hugh. 2003. Tantra: Sex, Secrecy, Politics, and Power in the Study of Religion. Berkeley: University of California Press. Wilson, Jeff. 2014. Mindful America: The Mutual Influence of Meditation and American Culture. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wilson, Jeff. 2017. Mindfulness on the Move: A Translocative Analysis of Global Mindfulness Flows. In Eastspirit: Transnational Spirituality and Religious Circulation in East and West, ed. Jørn Borup and Marianne Qvortrup Fibiger, 61–79. Leiden: Brill. Zuckerman, Phil. 2008. Society Without God: What the Least Religious Nations Can Tell Us About Contentment. New York: New York University Press.

PART I

Embodiment, Movements, and Practices

Catharsis in the Spruce Forest: Osho Meditations and Therapy at a Spiritual Retreat in Norway Henriette Hanky

Introduction In the 1970s and 1980s, the peak time of the global neo-sannyas movement, red-clad “sannyasins”1 screamed, jumped, and shook their bodies to transcend their minds and find meditative stillness. While many travelled “East” and found their ways to India to be with their controversial guru Osho (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh), Nordic sannyasins also founded communes and meditation centres in their home countries. Today, more than 30 years after Osho’s death, the guru movement has disintegrated into a loosely connected network with varying social forms and local differentiations (see Urban 2015, 175–177). At the same time, many of the movement’s core ideas and practices—self-exploration, embodied therapy, and

H. Hanky (*) Department of Archeology, History, Cultural Studies and Religion, University of Bergen, Bergen, Norway e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_2

29

30 

H. HANKY

meditation—have become part of popular spirituality (Gilhus 2011; Knoblauch 2014; Pagis 2020; Plank 2014). This chapter presents an overview of contemporary Osho-related arenas, actors, and activities in the Nordic countries and explores the specific case of the Norwegian retreat centre Dharma Mountain. Built around the former Osho sannyasin and “modern mystic” Vasant Swaha, this remote mountainside resort offers various retreats that combine Osho meditations with the centre’s own features. Based on ethnographic data, I explore how these meditation retreats are conceptualized, how they relate to Osho and the sannyas movement’s legacy, and how participants make sense of their experiences. Employing theoretical tools from the sociology of religion and emotion, I show how the techniques as well as the retreat as a whole build up an “affective dramaturgy” (Knoblauch et  al. 2019; Haken 2020a, b), a temporal order that leads participants through cumbersome self-­ scrutinizing and catharsis, to the experience of effortless bliss in the meeting with the guru. Here, the intended process of transformation is performed on and through the participants’ bodies, creating powerful experiences and legitimizing the guru’s authority. This Norwegian form of Osho reception makes not only a case for the popularization and proliferation of meditation in the Nordic countries but also for challenging the assumption that this necessarily coincides with diffusion and the absence of religious institutions. The chapter is based on my ethnographic dissertation project on contemporary forms of the Osho/sannyas movement in Europe and India. In this context, I visited Osho-related centres and events in Norway, Denmark, Germany, and India. At the Norwegian centre Dharma Mountain, which this chapter focuses on, I participated in three meditation retreats, spending five weeks on site in 2019 and 2020. The data basis for this study consists of field notes from participant observation, semi-­ structured interviews with retreat participants, as well as material that the Dharma Mountain group publishes on their websites.

Osho Meditations and Therapies: Eastern Practices? What is referred to as Eastern practices in the West is in most cases the result of transcultural entanglements rather than unidirectional transfers (Foxen and Kuberry 2021; see Singleton 2010). The case of Osho reception in the Nordic countries is no exception. While Osho (born as Chandra

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

31

Mohan Jain and known as Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh from 1971 to 1988) was Indian and the sannyas movement originated in India, it is only partially true to think of his teachings and meditation techniques as Eastern. Academically trained in Western philosophy, Osho spoke about Heraclitus, Nietzsche, and Wittgenstein, as well as about Mahavir, Gautama Buddha, and Krishna. While Osho synthesized different traditions, the East-West dichotomy formed the backdrop for his universalist rhetoric. Osho’s “active meditations” are eclectic blends, which combine influences ranging from Tantric “Crazy Wisdom” and Zen to Gurdjieff movements and Humanistic Psychology. They are up until today marketed as “Eastern” practices for “Western” bodies and minds. While meditators in Buddha’s time could easily sit down and meditate, Osho argued, modern man would turn mad trying to do the same. Instead, Osho called for acknowledging modern people’s madness and starting from releasing tensions and suppressed emotions. This is epitomized in Dynamic Meditation, Osho’s most famous technique, which leads the meditator through three stages of chaotic breathing, cathartic release—screaming, shaking, laughing, or the like—and complete exhaustion before the fourth stage of stillness and the fifth of celebratory dancing. For Osho, movement and cleansing were necessary groundwork for meditation and ultimately enlightenment. Assembling his meditation techniques as well as the activities in his ashram and communes, Osho turned not only to South and East Asian contemplative traditions but also to the body-mind therapies of the Human Potential Movement (HPM). In his understanding of the human “bodymind,” Osho was indebted to post-Freudian psychoanalysis and humanistic psychology. In the 1970s, many therapists from the Esalen Institute in California and similar growth centres in Europe travelled to Pune and became sannyasins. The ashram became a hub for alternative body-based therapies like Encounter, Primal, and Gestalt, known by the epithet “Esalen of the East” (see Urban 2015, 67–68). In the early days of the ashram, the HPM therapies were taken to extremes with unrestrained violence and sexuality, which was restricted after drawing criticism from, among others, Esalen founder Richard Price (Kripal 2007, 364–365). However, following a recent #MeToo wave, (former) sannyasins have made public a growing number of sexual abuse cases. These include testimonies of child abuse in the communes as well as of Osho himself sexually and psychologically abusing followers (Lippi 2022; Robbins 2022). These assaults have still not been acknowledged by the OSHO International Foundation.

32 

H. HANKY

The sannyas movement was centred around Osho’s guruhood. Becoming a member of the movement meant being initiated into a guru-­ disciple relationship by taking sannyas. Sannyasins received a new name, a mala (necklace) with Osho’s photo and began wearing orange and red clothes. It is one of the most characteristic contradictions of the sannyas movement that Osho’s neo-sannyas was discursively framed as a radically individualistic choice, while it structurally meant becoming a member of a movement and a disciple of a guru. The guru role has been subjected to change during and in the aftermath of the movement. After the Oregon commune spectacularly collapsed in 1984, Osho and the movement leadership consciously toned down his role as a guru. In this process, he also changed his name from Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh to Osho and fashioned himself as a “friend” on each seeker’s individual path rather than a master. The OSHO International Foundation (OIF) has pushed this development even further after Osho’s death in 1990. The foundation’s interpretation of Osho’s legacy as well as their strict copyright policy has led to disruptions within the global sannyas scene. Despite the OIF’s centralization attempts, today’s scene is increasingly fragmented with many different versions of what it means to be a sannyasin (see Frisk 2015, 336). This tendency of fragmentation and differentiation also applies to the Scandinavian context.

The Nordic Context At first sight, Osho activities in the Scandinavian countries are sparse. Frisk has rightly predicted “the centralized organization to still be there in the foreseeable future, but for the real growth of Osho elements to take place outside the organized Osho movement” (Frisk 2005, 46). While some old communes prevail, sannyasins in Scandinavia are a loosely connected scene that mainly comes together for temporary events such as festivals. However, while the social forms and the relevance attributed to the guru vary, the canonical Osho meditations are performed across the different settings. Today, we can distinguish four forms of Osho-related arenas, actors, and activities in Scandinavia: (1) Osho centres, (2) therapeutically oriented growth and meditation centres and individual therapists with background in the sannyas movement, (3) Osho influences in mainstream institutions and discourses, and (4) the Satsang scene.

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

33

Centres that are explicitly built around Osho (1) are on the decline in the whole of Europe and few are left in Scandinavia (Frisk 2015; Urban 2015, 336). In Sweden, Oshofors on the border between Västmanland and Dalarna is the only traditional Osho centre, recognized by the OSHO International Foundation. In Denmark, Osho Risk in Eastern Jutland serves as a meeting point not only for the Danish sannyas scene but also for sannyasins from Norway, Sweden, Germany, and further away. There are no Osho centres in Norway, Finland, or Iceland. Osho centres do not exclusively offer Osho practices. Providing a smorgasbord of different therapies and meditation practices has been encouraged from the 1970s onwards. This has made it easy for centres such as Baravara in Dalarna and Ängsbacka in Värmland, Sweden, once started by sannyasins, to evolve into centres concerned with growth and spirituality in general (2). By not officially affiliating with Osho, centres can on the one hand reach out to a larger audience that includes people who are sceptical of guru movements. On the other hand, independent centres also avoid having to deal with the OSHO International Foundation’s regulations that many find problematic. These individual growth centres are located on the countryside, typically have a few permanent residents, and offer retreats or workshops for stay-in guests and visitors (Frisk and Åkerbäck 2015; Åkerbäck 2015). Often, sannyasins also live in the vicinity of the centre, referred to as “buddhafields,” and come for the daily meditations and volunteer work. A new version of the traditional growth centres are urban meditation spots like Urban Om in Stockholm and (the now closed) Relational Spaces in Copenhagen that at first sight do not seem to have anything to do with Osho. These centres address a young and hip audience with popular practices like yoga and contact improvisation in addition to Osho meditations. With their professional marketing and digital craftsmanship, they do not resemble traditional Osho centres. Still, not only are there sannyasins among their facilitators but also their offers are clearly impregnated by Osho’s legacy. In addition, many sannyasins work as individual therapists, offering different kinds of body- and breathwork, ranging from Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy and Rebalancing to Tantra workshops and singing bowl massage. As Frisk has pointed out, sannyasins have been vital in spreading Human Potential Movement discourses and practices into mainstream society (3). She argues that “[t]he focus on the individual and on the creative

34 

H. HANKY

potential of the individual have during the last decade become central in elements of mainstream culture, which if not directly deriving from the Human Potential Movement, were strengthened and influenced by it” (Frisk 2016, 198). This coincides with the wider trend of the “psychologization of society” (Illouz 2008; Madsen 2018) and the spread of “embodied therapeutic culture” (Pagis 2020). Finally, the Satsang2 scene (4) comprised “enlightened” individuals and their followers have become an established part of the alternative religious milieu in Scandinavia. Not only have some of Scandinavia’s “homegrown gurus” (Gleig and Williamson 2013), such as Vasant Swaha from Norway and Nukunu from Denmark, gained a solid international following. The Swedish Ängsbacka festivals have also been an instrumental platform for such actors to reach out and gather followers. Many of these individuals have been disciples of Osho. After Osho’s death, many sannyasins travelled to Lucknow in North India where H.W.L. Poonja (Papaji) (1910–1997), a Modern Advaita guru in Ramana Maharshi’s lineage, lived and gave Satsang. A central theme in this environment and in Poonja’s Satsangs was the concept of “enlightenment” or “awakening,” which was described as something that could be achieved effortlessly (Jacobs 2020). From this democratization of “enlightenment,” the “Satsang network” (Frisk 2002) or “Non-Traditional Modern Advaita” (Lucas 2014) has emerged: a number of spiritual teachers who give Satsang based on the claim of their own enlightenment. Vasant Swaha is the only Norwegian in a network of many “enlightened” teachers, Mooji, Gangaji, Eli Jaxon-Bear being some of the most famous. While all Satsang teachers cultivate their own style, many blend Osho and Modern Advaita ideas circling around the concept of “enlightenment.” The Satsang scene is a mediatized phenomenon, with YouTube and social media as the main fora. Some teachers have, however, established their own centres and community structures that are reminiscent of the historical Osho movement. I will now turn to Vasant Swaha and the centre Dharma Mountain for a close-up of this Norwegian expression of the Osho movement’s legacy.

The Retreat Centre Dharma Mountain, Norway Dharma Mountain was established in 2000 on the premises of an old vacation settlement in Valdres,3 about a two-hour drive north of Oslo. The centre is surrounded by magnificent nature, high mountains, deep forests, and a raging river. The core activities are the retreats with Vasant Swaha.

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

35

When Swaha settled in the area together with 35–40 followers (Selberg 2009, 33) in the early 2000s, he had already held meditation retreats and Satsang in several countries, including Sweden (Ängsbacka) and Brazil. In 2009, his Brazilian followers founded the meditation centre Mevlana Garden in Brazil. Swaha travels back and forth between Brazil and Norway, and many sannyasins participate in his retreats in both countries. Vasant Swaha, civilly called Tor Opheim, is from Bergen. On his website, we read about a rebellious youth who travelled the world in his spiritual quest. In 1977, he found his way to Pune and became a sannyasin. In Pune, he worked as one of Osho’s bodyguards, moved to the commune in Oregon, and stayed with Osho in Pune until he died in 1990. Like many other sannyasins after Osho’s death, Swaha also travelled to Lucknow to meet H.W.L. Poonja. In line with other Satsang teachers, Swaha’s website also reports that he experienced an “awakening to his true Self” after Osho’s death: I was no longer the one I was the day before. I had no identification with any personality or ego. The ‘I’ was gone, and so was the whole past. I was drowned in a profound peace, in a deep spaciousness and blissful silence. It was a new birth. I became very fragile, I had to learn how to function in the world again. (Vasant Swaha 2023b)

The enlightenment narrative conveys some basic assumptions that characterize Swaha’s teachings and that derive from both Osho and the Modern Advaita tradition. The idea is that people have an inherent “true Self,” which due to social conditioning lies behind a veil of false identifications and the ego. The goal of the spiritual path is to peel away the conditioning and wake up to what is “true.” Crucial for this goal is the master who helps the disciples on their path to spiritual insight. Swaha and other Satsang teachers are considered by their followers as living proof that this recipe works. Devadas, whom I met at one of the retreats at Dharma Mountain, had been an Osho sannyasin before taking sannyas again from Vasant Swaha. He explains: [Osho] started something, he opened up something very big, worldwide big, you know, he planted so many seeds, Osho, but the flowering is happening now in different ways, not necessarily in places where they call themselves Osho centres or Osho sannyasins, it’s just different flowerings, like Mooji […], like Gangaji. (Interview with Devadas, 2019)

36 

H. HANKY

Devadas recalls that he had looked so much up to Osho that he could not imagine someone ordinary like himself to become enlightened. “But with Swaha,” Devadas says, “he’s a manifestation of this and that is the beautiful thing with, with being with Swaha that he was also, he is one of us there, who was there, and suddenly he is blossoming” (Interview with Devadas, 2019). Like Osho, Swaha initiates sannyasins by giving them a new name. The community is referred to as the sangha, a Buddhist term denoting those who follow Buddha’s path. As in Osho’s times, many of Swaha’s disciples feel the need to be close to the master and have moved to Hedalen or near the Brazilian centre. The areas around the centres are understood as “buddhafields” charged with an energy that makes it especially effective to stay and meditate there. Vasant Swaha currently holds three-week retreats at Dharma Mountain every summer and shorter retreats during the summer season as well as winter retreats about every other year. The rest of the year, he lives in Brazil and holds retreats there at Mevlana Garden. While these are formally Swaha’s retreats, the bulk of the work during and around the events is carried out by his close disciples. Many of these have training background in various forms of alternative body-based therapy. These sannyasins guide the meditation, self-inquiry, and therapeutic groups during the retreats. In addition to the retreats with Vasant Swaha, the premises are regularly rented out to external providers for, among other things, yoga and permaculture events. In addition, Dharma Mountain has since 2018 been offering their own retreats outside Swaha’s events that are marketed to a wider audience. With these new retreats, Dharma Mountain places itself in the contemporary popular religious field in an inclusive way. As I showed elsewhere (Hanky 2021), toning down the relation to Vasant Swaha helps in reaching out to audiences that are sceptical of guru figures. As opposed to yoga and meditation, which have become an integral part of popular spirituality and even secular contexts, the guru concept has not become equally accepted by the mainstream, particularly in Norway (see Selberg 2009; Bårdsen Tøllefsen 2015; Løøv 2015). However, Dharma Mountain facilitators report a growing acceptance of the guru role in recent years. A distinct Nordic flavour at Dharma Mountain is the incorporation of Norwegian nature into both the promotion of the centre and the retreat programmes themselves. Nature plays a major role in Dharma Mountain’s visual representation and in the marketing of retreat sites in and beyond

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

37

Scandinavia (see Åkerbäck 2015, 345). Similarly to other forms of tourism in Norway (see Fonneland 2013), the experience of wild nature is highlighted in both images and text on Dharma Mountain’s website and evokes ideas related to “power places” (see Stausberg 2011, 98–99). The photos show people with closed eyes and peaceful expressions surrounded by blueberry bushes, birch trees, and spruce forest. This conveys the impression that the participants are embraced by nature and absorb its tranquillity. This is complemented with messages like: “Come back to your true nature” (Dharma Mountain 2021c). The nature around Dharma Mountain is also incorporated into the retreat programme. Wandering through the fields, “forest bathing,” and meditating by the river are integral parts of the retreats. Santoshi, who had been an Osho disciple back in the day, mentions Swaha’s being a “nature man” as something distinct and new that Swaha introduced: [T]his is something which [Swaha] emphasizes, I’m sure Osho talked about these things also but […] Swaha, he always talks about that, “be natural,” he says, and “be in the nature” because the nature is natural. [I]t’s so obvious, this connection, just being in nature, learn from the nature because the nature is always natural, yeah, so we cannot be fake […] when we let go and surrender to nature, and this is so beautiful. (Interview with Santoshi, Norway 2019)

As Amanda Lucia argued, modern gurus need to be innovative and “mark themselves with social distinction in a sea of competing voices” (Lucia 2014, 224). Engaging the dramatic Norwegian nature at Dharma Mountain, the retreats  gain a local flavour,  creating a “unique selling point” for Swaha as a Norwegian guru. Even while the designation “guru in the spruce forest” has been used by local media to ridicule him in the early 2000s (Selberg 2009), the combination of “Eastern wisdom” in a Norwegian “Forest Temple” (as the Satsang venue is called) works as a hallmark in Swaha’s favour. The Therapeutic and the Transformational Dharma Mountain offers different types of retreats that can be positioned on a spectrum ranging from recreational to transformational retreats. The shorter retreats without Vasant Swaha address a wider audience of mainly

38 

H. HANKY

urban Norwegians without previous connection to Dharma Mountain looking for a break from their stressful city lives. These can be located on the recreational end of the spectrum. The long retreats with Vasant Swaha are tailored towards the sangha as well as newcomers who wish to meet the guru. These retreats are explicitly designed for transforming participants therapeutically as well as spiritually. However, all retreats are facilitated by the same instructors operating from one repertoire of techniques. And while participants can potentially experience short retreats as transformational, I have also come across long-term sannyasins who approach the retreats with Swaha as holidays rather than going all-in to be transformed. Drawing on concepts from the sociology of religion and emotion, I will now explore how this transformation process is conceptualized, put into practice, and interpreted by participants during the retreats. The conceptual starting point for Dharma Mountain’s retreats lies in Osho’s therapeutic ideas, which I sketched above. These assume that humans carry all kinds of trauma and pain that need to be released before meditation can “happen.” This reasoning is apparent in the description of the retreat “Alive”: Many of us learned early to avoid and not to show our feelings. Maybe because it felt safer, or because it protected us from feeling pain, vulnerability and insecurity. But to hide or avoid our feelings can also prevent us from feeling the joy of just being alive, and from being close to others. Having the courage to be vulnerable can be an opening to life itself. (Dharma Mountain 2021b)

For a sannyasin, this description fits neatly with Osho’s view on the human psyche. However, it is also in line with the broader “therapy culture” that has come to permeate societies worldwide since the second half of the twentieth century (Illouz 2008; Madsen 2018). “Self-enquiry” can easily be adapted to the traditional “talking cure” of Western psychology. Yet even embodied emotional release and cathartic techniques have since the “embodied turn” in the 1990s reached mainstream psychology and become popularized (Pagis 2020, 181–183). The short retreats are carefully peppered with techniques that are specific to Swaha’s teaching tradition, while still being generic enough to comply with the expectations of a wider audience.

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

39

The long retreats with Vasant Swaha, which I will now turn to investigate in more detail, are explicitly designed by implementing the Osho-­ derived therapy-meditation nexus into a dramaturgy: That’s how I have designed these retreats: first you can laugh, cry, scream, paint and play to empty yourself out in many different ways. […] If you are restless, sad, angry—with all these things that you normally carry with you … who wants to be in silence? […] First all this has to go. That is my recipe. (Vasant Swaha 2023a)

The retreat programme mirrors Osho’s method of combining different techniques in a temporal sequence to trigger a therapeutic and spiritual transformation. This process can be approached as what Knoblauch, Wetzels, and Haken have called an “affective dramaturgy” (Knoblauch et al. 2019; Haken 2020b). Sociologizing a concept originating from film studies, they employ it for videographical studies of, for example, collective emotions in church services and goal celebrations at football matches. The concept allows to investigate how the temporal unfolding of social action affects embodied subjects and in turn informs their emotional expression. Beyond videographical sequence analysis, it is fruitful for relating my observations of the retreats’ dramaturgy to the individuals’ meaning-­making processes apparent in my interview data. To prepare for going into silence, the beginning of the retreat is devoted to “emptying out.” While Dharma Mountain does not employ the more radical Osho therapies like Encounter or Primal, cathartic techniques such as Dynamic Meditation and Rebirthing Breathwork combined with self-­ introspection make the retreats physically and mentally charging. On Dharma Mountain’s blog, we can read a statement of a participant who had to break through their reluctance towards the effort of doing Dynamic Meditation before recognizing its benefit: When I first came to the retreats with Swaha, I hated Dynamic Meditation. Swaha asked me if I was doing Dynamic Meditation and I said no! Because— what the f** are we doing here? All the jumping was so much effort. So it was a struggle to attend. But then I found out and experienced myself the difference that Dynamic makes in my life and I totally learned to like it. (Dharma Mountain 2021a)

40 

H. HANKY

The quote illustrates not only the strenuousness of participating in active meditations but also communicates Vasant Swaha’s authority connected to the idea that he has intentionally designed his retreats in a certain way. While the cathartic exercises may be unpleasant, participants are told to trust their guru’s recipe to experience its efficacy. Ida, whom I met at a summer retreat, describes her experience with active meditations mainly as emotionally demanding: and then I feel, you know, that emotional things come up. And it’s not always so pleasant, but it’s … I’ve suppressed emotions for many, many years. So … it’s not so strange that it comes up, in a way, but it’s … but it’s nice that there are things that can help you, in a way. (Interview with Ida, 2020)

Ida’s account shows how she comes to embody the field’s therapeutic understanding of meditation. She reports that she experiences the active meditations as “lighter” than sitting meditation, particularly when “it’s difficult things you’re working through and you’re somehow getting it properly out of your body” (Interview with Ida, 2020). Ida shares the knowledge that constitutes Dharma Mountain’s meditation-therapy nexus: a psychoanalytical as well as embodied understanding of the psyche and an ethics of self-confrontation. Painful experiences need to be brought to the surface, looked at from a detached meditative standpoint, and released through the body. But rather than remaining conceptual, for Ida this becomes an affective embodied experience that she makes sense of within her life story. How charging this form of prescribed introspection is also becomes apparent in Nora’s account. Nora describes it as “exhausting and challenging” to be “confronted with your brain like twenty-four-seven in a way, and then you first realize how much like nonsense and how much of your thoughts are actually like completely rubbish” (Interview with Nora, 2019). Nora re-evaluates herself and redefines what she used to find normal as “nonsense” and “completely rubbish.” As much as both Ida and Nora struggle, they came to Dharma Mountain precisely because they are convinced of the necessity to work on themselves. Both stress that they appreciate the safe space that the Dharma Mountain community creates for this process. Nora contrasts the setting with her everyday life:

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

41

[I]t feels good to be in a place where … where it’s allowed, it’s like almost that I have to get used to that, it’s like you have to break through this barrier that it is actually completely allowed to burst into tears if you feel like it, it’s like something you don’t know from everyday life. (Interview with Nora, 2019)

Similarly, Ida explains that it is mainly this different, non-judgmental social context that made her feel better: “to be around people who have worked so much on themselves and who are so safe and warm, that was very, very good and in a way what I’ve been missing in my life” (Interview with Ida, 2020). This illustrates on the one hand participants’ experience of the retreat as a space that differs from everyday life in terms of “feeling rules,” that is, social norms for managing and displaying emotions (Hochschild 1979). On the other hand, it shows how participants also see the transformational potential of the retreats in the more experienced community members’ comportment. The retreats at Dharma Mountain represent what Riis and Woodhead call “emotionally explicit regimes” which “make promises to effect emotional change and improvement, pay a great deal of attention to the articulation and transformation of such states, and have instrumental techniques for effecting such change” (Riis and Woodhead 2010, 77). While participants stress the non-judgmental attitude cultivated in the safe space of the retreat, we have seen that there are “feeling rules” at Dharma Mountain as well. The “emotional regime” maintained at Dharma Mountain’s retreats clearly valorizes the display of emotions—particularly those signifying release, softness, and openness, for example, crying— while interpreting emotional closure as resistance to the process. The retreats are geared towards transformation, and thus participants who communicate that “something is happening” are on the right track. All three quoted participants describe how the retreat disrupts their everyday routines and self-understanding. They make clear that a retreat with Swaha is not a wellness holiday but a process of self-transformation that is challenging, yet necessary. Lucia recently analysed how cathartic practices at transformational festivals “push the boundaries of one’s own psyche and physicality to detach and destabilize conventional understandings of self—all in an effort to cultivate radically transformational experiences” (Lucia 2020, 174). In a Norwegian context, letting down one’s guard and expressing strong emotions in front of strangers presents probably an even greater break from everyday experience than in the United

42 

H. HANKY

States. When Lucia argues that cathartic practices provide “affective experiences of freedom” (Lucia 2020, 188), this is particularly fitting for Osho’s active meditations. But more than aiming at inducing momentary experiences of freedom, Osho’s methodology that Swaha continues at Dharma Mountain sets permanent liberation in the form of “waking up” or “enlightenment” as the goal. The Affective and the Wonderous The occasion where Vasant Swaha attempts to wake up his disciples is Satsang. Satsang with Vasant Swaha is framed as the most important event during retreats. In the retreats’ dramaturgy that moves participants from catharsis to meditation, Satsangs are repeated interjections, demarcated from the rest of the programme while at the same time constituting its specialness through contrast. Satsang takes place at Dharma Mountain’s “Forest Temple” four times a week and lasts for about two hours. This is the only time participants get to see the guru, and the specialness of the event is orchestrated with elaborate preparations of the space, rules of conduct in the temple, and dress regulations (white clothes on Sundays). Carried out by Swaha’s inner circle of disciples, these preparatory actions frame Satsang as the programme’s highlight and model expected behaviour and feeling rules. A basic assumption with Satsang is that being near an enlightened person has a transformational effect. Valorizing physical proximity to the guru as “an event that has the potential for personal transformation, but also a social honour revered within the community” (Lucia 2018, 962) has a long tradition in South Asian devotional communities.4 The instructors and Swaha himself emphasize that the meditations are important, but that it is Satsang that is most potent in transforming people: “Just to be around a mystic can cause a profound change,” Swaha’s website tells us (Vasant Swaha 2023a). Swaha explains Satsang as “the art of the Masters […]: to fall in tune, to fall in tune with the Master, and in that way you fall in tune with yourself. You start remembering your divine Being” (Vasant Swaha 2023a). It is also characteristic of the Satsang network’s form of Modern Advaita that while the master’s relevance is emphasized, there is finally no difference between the master and one’s own “true Self” or “Being.” During Satsang, Swaha reads out and responds to letters that disciples and other participants have sent him. Swaha’s Satsang is strongly oriented

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

43

towards how Osho held his “discourses” and performed his guru role in interaction with the disciples. Similar to other Satsang events (see Frisk 2002, 67), the affectivity of Swaha’s Satsangs is observable in participants’ expressive display of emotions. The letters to Swaha tend to be very personal, and it is common not only for the questioner but also for other participants to cry. Again similar to Osho, laughter is a central component of Satsang, and Swaha likes to joke with the audience. Different moods—from sentimental to euphoric— are also set by music, mainly Westernized mantra or kirtan songs, many of them composed in the Osho movement. Usually, people softly move their bodies to these songs, but both Swaha and the participants also dance expressively when spirits are high. Within the larger affective dramaturgy of the retreat, each Satsang thus also constitutes an affective dramaturgy structured by Swaha’s talks, the music, and dance elements and is enhanced by the ritual framing and spatial arrangement of the temple. While Swaha does talk a lot, it is not the discursive but the experiential, affective dimension of Satsang that participants emphasize (see Thorsén, this volume). Ida, for example, reports: “I feel a lot of lightness and goodness from Swaha” (Interview with Ida, 2020). Nora describes her feelings during Satsang like this: [I]t’s a very strong feeling that […] it’s just pure kind of love and he just wants the best, he genuinely wants the best and … without any … bad or different intentions, so … to really connect to that and like really feel that happiness again which I had not had in a long time … that was really beautiful and […] it gave me lust for more of it like … it’s funny that you can just kind of be comfortable almost with just having it alright or even having a shitty time, you can kind of just feel that this is my normal state but then once [laughs] I feel—Yesterday I was reminded that, oh my God, no, this feels so much better if I’m genuinely happy and I can feel a lot of love towards myself, towards other people. (Interview with Nora, 2019)

The affectivity of the event is mirrored by how Nora evaluates Satsang in terms of how she felt. She describes a strong feeling of happiness that she attributes to Swaha’s “pure kind of love.” She contrasts it to how she usually feels: “alright or even having a shitty time.” Nora’s report narratively aligns with the retreat’s “affective dramaturgy.” As shown above, she re-evaluates her everyday life through an arduous process of introspection. As her regular sense of self is challenged, she finds herself sitting in Satsang

44 

H. HANKY

thinking: “[O]h my God, no, this feels so much better.” This bears striking similarity to the process that Lucia has theorized in relation to transformational festivals as arenas inducing “affective experience[s] of wonder”: As the conventional self is destabilized, the creative features of the festival fill the void with the affective experience of wonder. […] This dialogical process of emptying and filling the self in contact with wonderous presence(s) makes these fields abundant in their capacity to catalyze transformational experience. (Lucia 2020, 174)

As I have shown above, these transformational dynamics of “emptying and filling the self” are not incidental but ritualized and integral to the retreat design. The dramaturgy of leading participants from therapeutic catharsis to spiritual bliss has been institutionalized in the meditation and therapy techniques that Vasant Swaha has inherited from Osho. Different from most other forms of Osho activities in the Nordic countries today, however, it is not only those institutionalized practices that are attributed transformational potential. With Vasant Swaha, the “wonderous presence” is a living charismatic, describable in the Weberian sense as one who “is set apart from ordinary men and treated as endowed with […] exceptional powers or qualities” (Weber 1964, 358). It is Vasant Swaha that participants attribute their strong experiences during Satsang to. In distinctly religious language, a sannyasin writes: [A]t the end of every Satsang, every heart can feel a Love so tangible, so real. Like without anybody noticing, he takes us into a new dimension; suddenly everything becomes sacred, holy. The atmosphere becomes pregnant with deep reverence, and every heart whispers a silent prayer of gratitude. In silence He teaches us devotion. (Vasant Swaha 2023c)

If they do not have a strong experience, however, sannyasins can and do explain this with their own shortcomings. While I have come across newcomers, not yet socialized into the field logics, who dismissed Swaha’s elevated status, sannyasins tend to talk about their own limitations as not yet awakened beings. Devadas, for example, explains: It’s like it’s me who is the limitation, not him, it’s just that I can—as much as I can open up for him, and I see that [at] different times, sometimes I’m more open, sometimes less open. There’s moments, there’s even Satsangs

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

45

where I am not open, I can experience it as very painful, but it’s a fact. And if I can accept that also, then that is also okay, if I can just allow whatever is there, and then it’s okay, because I can see … suddenly it’s like a crack opens up and then so much is coming to me, yeah? And other times … but it’s not—still not in my hands to control this, […] I’m still looking for a way that I can put myself aside again and again, just put myself aside and just be open to peace and to love which is what he is sharing. (Interview with Devadas, 2019)

The strong experiences during Satsang thus do not only serve as evidence for Swaha’s extraordinariness as an awakened person. They also become a measure for where participants stand in their cathartic and meditative process. Here, the therapeutic imperative and the master-disciple relationship interlink in forming sannyasin’s subjectivities as both individual self-explorers and devotees.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries More than thirty years after Osho’s death, the sannyas movement is still present in the Nordic countries, even though in different social forms. No longer an integrated movement, the sannyas scene is fragmented into dispersed independent growth centres, temporary festivals, and individual therapists. However, it has left its mark on Nordic societies, where meditation, self-discovery, and embodied therapy have become mainstream practices. With the Norwegian retreat site Dharma Mountain, I have investigated an empirical example that both illustrates and defies this tendency of diffusion and decontextualization. On the one hand, Dharma Mountain reaches out to a broad audience by inscribing itself discursively and aesthetically into popularized discourses around meditation and retreat tourism. On the other hand, Dharma Mountain is a centre built around a living guru, Vasant Swaha, and his disciples, the sangha. The retreats with Swaha are firmly anchored in Osho’s transformational methodology and ultimately aim at “awakening to your true Self” (Dharma Mountain 2020). The retreats encompass different forms of “turning inward” (Pagis 2019), including classic sitting meditation, Osho’s active meditations such as the cathartic Dynamic Meditation, and—capitalizing on the Norwegian mountains—“forest bathing.” Specific to Vasant Swaha’s background in

46 

H. HANKY

the Osho movement is the importance attributed to therapy as a prerequisite for meditation. Self-exploration and cathartic techniques are employed to help participants “empty out” and release emotional blocks. In these highly affective processes, participants direct their attention towards feelings of unease and negative past experiences. This is in sharp contrast to the strong positive emotions of happiness and love which participants report about being together with Vasant Swaha in Satsang. The presented interview material shows how the retreat’s “affective dramaturgy” (Knoblauch et al. 2019; Haken 2020b) pushes participants to re-evaluate their lives and offers them alternative ways of relating to themselves and the world around them. The retreat dramaturgy thus performatively prefigures typical conversion narratives that “signify a symbolic transformation of the self” (Zink 2020, 132) by constructing a boundary between past suffering and new-found bliss. In Satsang with Vasant Swaha, the practice of meditation, the guru role, and transformational goals are intertwined and constitute the master-disciple relationship that forms the core of Dharma Mountain’s activities. Importantly, as it is the very subject that is addressed by the various self-exploration techniques, participants base their insights not primarily on Swaha’s teachings but on their own embodied experience. Frisk predicted for the growth of Osho’s legacy to happen outside the organized movement and that the “new charismatic leaders, emerging from the senior disciples of Osho, will play a role, pointing to the importance of living charisma.” (Frisk 2005, 46) Despite widespread guru criticism, refuelled by recent #MeToo debates, the case of Dharma Mountain supports her point: The charismatic community around Vasant Swaha does not belong to the organized Osho movement and is at the same time a vibrant part of its legacy. My findings speak to several trends in contemporary Nordic religious landscapes, such as the tendency that Repstad describes as an “aestheticization”: “Religious life becomes more sense-oriented, concerned more with the good experiences and less with teachings and theology” (Repstad 2020, 200, author’s translation). The analysed case also shows traits of the “psychologization of society” (Madsen 2018), particularly the spread of embodied forms of therapy. As Pagis has noted, “[t]he popularisation of embodied therapeutic culture marks another step in the general spread and influence of therapeutic culture” (Pagis 2020, 177) and merits further investigation in the Nordic countries.

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

47

In Norway, where the degree of organization in the spiritual field is low and alternative religious ideas are “thinly spread” (Gilhus and Mikaelsson 2005), it has been vital to study religion outside of congregations and organizations. However, the case of Dharma Mountain reminds us that the tendencies of diffusion and popularization can proceed in parallel to the emergence of new communities around living charismatics. These seemingly opposing trends can be driven by the same actors. As religious activities become increasingly eventified (see Haken 2020a), organizations such as Dharma Mountain can tailor their portfolio to different audiences—from spiritual wanderers to dedicated devotees.

Notes 1. Calling his disciples (neo-)sannyasins, the Hindu term for renunciates, Osho reinterpreted the concept of sannyas to denote life affirmation instead of renunciation while at the same time deliberately provoking Indian society. In the following, I will use the terms sannyasins and sannyas movement which are most usual in the field. 2. The term Satsang, from Sanskrit for “being together in/with truth,” is used in the field for sitting in the company of an “enlightened” person (Frisk 2002). 3. This overview is partly based on Hanky (2021, 6–8). 4. As Lucia importantly points out, this “haptic logics” of sacralizing physical proximity to a guru “creates social relationships that are readied forums for sexual abuse” (Lucia 2018, 956).

References Åkerbäck, Peter. 2015. The Spiritual Revolution, the Swedish Way. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James R.  Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 343–358. Leiden: Brill. Bårdsen Tøllefsen, Inga. 2015. The Art of Living Foundation in Norway: Indigenization and Continuity. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James R. Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 239–253. Leiden: Brill. Dharma Mountain. 2020. Awakening to Your True Self: Vasant Swaha. Summer retreat 11 July–1 August 2020. http://dharmamountain.com/dharma_activities/awakening-­to-­your-­true-­self-­vasant-­swaha/. Accessed 3 December 2021. ———. 2021a. Dynamic saves my life. http://dharmamountain.com/dynamic-­ saves-­my-­life/. Accessed 12 May 2021.

48 

H. HANKY

———. 2021b. Levende  – mot til å være sårbar. http://dharmamountain. com/dharma_activities/levende-­mot-­til-­a-­vaere-­sarbar-­2/. Accessed 30 November 2021. ———. 2021c. Tilstede – en helg med skogsbad og meditasjon. http://dharmamountain.com/dharma_activities/tilstede-­e n-­h elg-­m ed-­s kogsbad-­o g-­ meditasjon-­5/. Accessed 12 May 2021. Fonneland, Trude. 2013. Spiritual Entrepreneurship in a Northern Landscape: Spirituality, Tourism and Politics. Temenos 48: 155–178. Foxen, Anya P., and Christa Kuberry. 2021. Is This Yoga? Concepts, Histories, and the Complexities of Modern Practice. Abingdon, Oxon: Routledge. Frisk, Liselotte. 2002. The Satsang Network: A Growing Post-Osho Phenomenon. Nova Religio 6: 64–85. ———. 2005. Charisma and Institutionalization in the Osho Movement. FINYARs årsskrift 2: 18–47. ———. 2015. The New Religious Movements  – What Happened to Them? A Study of the Church of Scientology, the Children of God, ISKCON, the Unification Church and the Rajneesh Movement and Their Development Over Time. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James R.  Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 325–342. Leiden: Brill. ———. 2016. The Human Potential Movement in Scandinavia. In Western Esotericism in Scandinavia, ed. Henrik Bogdan and Olav Hammer, 195–202. Leiden: Brill. Frisk, Liselotte, and Peter Åkerbäck. 2015. New Religiosity in Contemporary Sweden: The Dalarna Study in National and International Context. Sheffield, Bristol: Equinox. Gilhus, Ingvild Sælid. 2011. Post-Secular Religion and the Therapeutic Turn: Three Norwegian Examples. In Post-Secular Religious Practices: Based on Papers Read at the Symposium on Post-Secular Religious Practices at Åbo, Finland, on 15–17 June 2011, ed. Tore Ahlbäck, 62–75. Åbo/Turku: Donner Institute for Research in Religious and Cultural History. Gilhus, Ingvild Sælid, and Lisbeth Mikaelsson. 2005. Kulturens refortrylling: Nyreligiøsitet i moderne samfunn. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. Gleig, Ann, and Lola Williamson. 2013. Homegrown Gurus: From Hinduism in America to American Hinduism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Haken, Meike. 2020a. Celebrations: Religious Events Beyond the Dichotomy of Individualization and Communitization. Journal of Empirical Theology 33: 100–121. ———. 2020b. Religious Emotions in Christian Events. In Affect and Emotion in Multi-Religious Secular Societies, ed. Christian von Scheve, Anna Berg, Meike Haken, and Nur Ural, 114–131. New York: Routledge. Hanky, Henriette. 2021. Avkobling og transformasjon: Meditasjonsretreater på Dharma Mountain mellom popularisering og religiøst fellesskap. Aura. Tidsskrift for akademiske studier av nyreligiøsitet 12: 3–24.

  CATHARSIS IN THE SPRUCE FOREST: OSHO MEDITATIONS AND THERAPY… 

49

Hochschild, Arlie Russell. 1979. Emotion Work, Feeling Rules, and Social Structure. American Journal of Sociology 85: 551–575. Illouz, Eva. 2008. Saving the Modern Soul: Therapy, Emotions, and the Culture of Self-Help. Berkeley: University of California Press. Jacobs, Bas J.H. 2020. Getting off the Wheel: A Conceptual History of the New Age Concept of Enlightenment. Numen 67: 373–401. Knoblauch, Hubert. 2014. Popular Spirituality. In Present-Day Spiritualities: Contrasts and Overlaps, ed. Elisabeth Hense, Frans P.M.  Jespers, and Peter J.A. Nissen, 81–102. Leiden: Brill. Knoblauch, Hubert, Michael Wetzels, and Meike Haken. 2019. Videography of Emotions and Affectivity in Social Situations. In Analyzing Affective Societies: Methods and Methodologies, ed. Antje Kahl, 162–179. London: Routledge. Kripal, Jeffrey J. 2007. Esalen: America and the Religion of No Religion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lippi, Roberta. 2022. Dragon Lady: The Last Witness. https://storielibere.fm/ soli-­dragonlady/. Accessed 13 January 2023. Løøv, Margrethe. 2015. Acem: Disenchanted Meditation. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James R.  Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 254–267. Leiden: Brill. Lucas, Phillip Charles. 2014. Non-Traditional Modern Advaita Gurus in the West and Their Traditional Modern Advaita Critics. Nova Religio 17: 6–37. Lucia, Amanda J. 2014. Innovative Gurus: Tradition and Change in Contemporary Hinduism. International Journal of Hindu Studies 18: 221–263. ———. 2018. Guru Sex: Charisma, Proxemic Desire, and the Haptic Logics of the Guru-Disciple Relationship. Journal of the American Academy of Religion 86: 953–988. ———. 2020. White Utopias: The Religious Exoticism of Transformational Festivals. Oakland: University of California Press. Madsen, Ole Jacob. 2018. The Psychologization of Society: On the Unfolding of the Therapeutic in Norway. London: Routledge. Pagis, Michal. 2019. Inward: Vipassana Meditation and the Embodiment of the Self. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. ———. 2020. Embodied Therapeutic Culture. In The Routledge International Handbook of Global Therapeutic Cultures, ed. Daniel Nehring, Ole Jacob Madsen, Edgar Cabanas, China Mills, and Dylan Kerrigan, 177–190. London: Routledge. Plank, Katarina. 2014. Mindfulness: Tradition, tolkning och tillämpning. Lund: Nordic Academic Press. Repstad, Pål. 2020. Religiøst liv i Norge i 2040 – tre scenarier. Kirke og Kultur 124: 199–209. Riis, Ole, and Linda Woodhead. 2010. A Sociology of Religious Emotion. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

50 

H. HANKY

Robbins, Erin. 2022. Surviving Wild Wild Country: Erin Robbins Speaks Out on Osho Horrors. https://alittlebitculty.com/episode/surviving-­wild-­wild-­ country-­erin-­robbins-­speaks-­out-­on-­osho-­horrors. Accessed 13 January 2023. Selberg, Torunn. 2009. Guruen i granskogen og profet i eget land: Mediediskusjoner og mediefortellinger om en «norsk guru». Din: Tidsskrift for religion og kultur 4: 30–44. Singleton, Mark. 2010. Yoga Body: The Origins of Modern Posture Practice. New York: Oxford University Press. Stausberg, Michael. 2011. Religion and Tourism: Crossroads, Destinations, and Encounters. London: Routledge. Urban, Hugh B. 2015. Zorba the Buddha. Sex, Spirituality, and Capitalism in the Global Osho Movement. Oakland: University of California Press. Vasant Swaha. 2023a. The Retreat Experience. http://vasantswaha.net/the-­ retreat-­experience/. Accessed 19 January 2023. ———. 2023b. Who Is Swaha? https://vasantswaha.net/who-­is-­swaha/. Accessed 19 January 2023. ———. 2023c. Heart Letter:  Satsang Today.  vasantswaha.net/letter/satsang-­ today/. Accessed 19 January 2023. Weber, Max. 1964. The Theory of Social and Economic Organization. New York: The Free Press. Zink, Veronika. 2020. On Conversion: Affecting Secular Bodies. In Affect and Emotion in Multi-Religious Secular Societies, ed. Christian von Scheve, Anna Berg, Meike Haken, and Nur Ural, 132–150. New York: Routledge.

Getting Past the Ego: Modern Advaita and the Cultivation of a Nondual Habitus Elin Thorsén

Introduction For Omkar, a man in his 30s living in a large northern European city, the purpose of practising Advaita in his daily life is to “realize you are what you truly are, the awareness. Not this mind, and the suffering.” He adds that he hopes to realize that rather quickly. To realize his true Self, which in Advaita is synonymous with a form of nondual awareness, he practices self-­ inquiry, for instance, by meditating on the question “Who am I?”1 Omkar is originally from South Asia but has lived in northern Europe for eleven years. It was in this northern European setting that he, about six years earlier, first encountered and started to practice Advaita through a teacher he found on YouTube. He finds the northern environment very easy to meditate in, he confides. It is quiet and peaceful, and not much to do outside: “It’s very difficult to connect with people, you never see

E. Thorsén (*) Department of Literature, History of Ideas, and Religion, University of Gothenburg, Gothenburg, Sweden e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_3

51

52 

E. THORSÉN

anybody just sitting. They’re either listening to music or reading something. It’s very hard to contact people. They’re all in the phone, so I say why go out, I can just stay at home and meditate” (interview with “Omkar,” 2017). Advaita is a Sanskrit term for nonduality. At the heart of this philosophical system lies a form of radical monism, expressed by the postulation that the Self (ātman) is identical with absolute reality (brahman). The experience of being a separate individual is seen as illusory, and liberation from this false notion is described in terms of coming to insight about the identical nature of the Self and absolute reality. Modernized forms of Advaita constitute an integral part of the range of Eastern-derived teachings and practices available at the global market today, including northern Europe. In academic discourses, these modernized, globalized interpretations of Advaita are usually referred to as Neo-­ Advaita (Gleig 2011, 2013; Lucas 2013) or as Modern Advaita (Lucas 2014). The global dissemination of Modern Advaitic teachings mainly takes place through the medium of satsang. Satsang (“meeting in truth”) in this context is a kind of question-and-answer session where a spiritual teacher goes into dialogue with the audience and offers discourses aiming at elaborating on the nondual nature of the Self. Many satsangs are broadcasted online, or published as transcripts in books, which make them available to a wider audience. The aim of this chapter is to analyze how practitioners of Modern Advaita like Omkar attempt to live according to principles of nonduality in a contemporary, northern European setting—a setting that could be described as a “me-society” where a prominent place is assigned to the individual (Stolz and Könemann 2016, 1). By sketching out the characteristic features of the cultivation of a “nondual” habitus among a group of twenty-five practitioners, of whom the majority were living in northern and western Europe, I will discuss how Modern Advaita in its practiced form has adapted to the requirements of the cultural and historical context in which practitioners live.2 The attempts to live according to principles of nonduality among this group of interlocutors, it will be argued, often involved several dimensions, and included reflecting not only on the Self in an ultimate, ontological sense, but equally much on the day-to-day sense of selfhood. From this point of view, Modern Advaita appears to be compatible with what has been called a “therapeutic culture” (Fitzpatrick and Parsons 2018). The various, and in

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

53

some sense therapeutic ways of addressing questions of the self, constitute an example of how practitioners creatively have adapted Modern Advaitic teachings and practices to meet the requirements of individualized “me-­ societies” where therapeutic and psychological perspectives are commonplace.

The Adaptation, Dissemination, and Globalization of Advaita The formulation of Advaita as a distinct philosophy is associated with the philosopher Śaṅkara (c. eight century CE), who proposed a nondual (Advaita) interpretation of the philosophical system Vedānta (“end of the Vedas”). Vedānta is one of the six major systems (dars ́ana) in classical Indian philosophy, dealing mainly with the ideas put forward in the last portion of the Vedas, the Upaniṣads. Classical Vedānta is divided into three main schools which emanated between the eight and thirteenth century CE, and Advaita Vedānta is one of these. This early formulation of Advaita is a living tradition, as the lineages (saṃ pradāya) and monasteries (maṭha) which Śaṅkara established are existing still today in India. The philosophy of Śaṅkara—although ultimately negating all distinctions—was nevertheless characterized by Brahmin orthodoxy. This manifested in a system where strict demands on eligibility and conduct (adhikāra) were put on those adepts who wished to enter the path of Advaita (Forsthoefel 2018, 57–58). While it has been pointed out that Advaita Vedānta went through processes of development already during the medieval and early modern periods (Madaio 2017), it was mainly from the nineteenth century onward that modernized interpretations of Advaita Vedānta, commonly referred to as Neo-Vedānta, started to appear and become popularized among a wider international audience. Initially, this was in part the work of Indian reformers such as Swami Vivekananda (1863–1902), seeking to promote what they saw as the foundation of Hindu spirituality in the face of British colonization and Christian missionaries. Vivekananda offered a universalist interpretation of Advaita, as he saw this type of monism as compatible with a range of other forms of spiritual teachings and practices (see De Michelis 2005; Halbfass 1990; King 1999; Paranjape 2012). In the twentieth century, the South Indian sage Ramana Maharshi (1879–1950) and his student H. W. L. Poonja (1910–1997) have been

54 

E. THORSÉN

identified as important contributors to the dissemination and adaptation of Advaita in the West (see Frisk 2002; Gleig 2011; Lucas 2011). Ramana Maharshi, although spending his whole adult life in the vicinities of the sacred hill Arunachala outside of Tiruvannamalai in South India, attracted European and American seekers already during his lifetime. Maharshi’s student H.  W. L. Poonja then further contributed to disseminating Maharshi’s Advaita among Westerners through his satsangs, and some of these eventually became teachers themselves (Gleig 2011, 204–20; Lucas 2011). In the teachings of Ramana Maharshi and those who followed in his footsteps, an experiential rather than scripture-based understanding of nonduality became a much more pronounced feature in comparison with older forms of Advaita. As with Vivekananda, Maharshi’s Advaita was also accessible in the sense that he saw everyone as being eligible to practice self-inquiry (see Davis 2011; Forsthoefel 2018). Apart from the legacy of Ramana Maharshi, a more eclectic milieu of Western teachers of nonduality has been identified by Frisk (2002), who refers to this context as the “Satsang network.”3 This network has a broader set of influences, which besides Poonja includes other Indian teachers such as Osho (1931–1990) and Hans Raj Maharajji (1922–2011) of the Sacha lineage, the latter a guru-centered movement originating in northern India. As should be clear by now, what is presented as Advaita or nonduality in contemporary times covers a broad spectrum of teachings and teachers with very different approaches. The Satsang network of Western teachers discussed by Frisk (2002) arguably have little in common with the lineages and monasteries which Śaṅkara established (cf. King 1999, 141). Between these poles further exist different positions in terms of relation to orthodoxy and innovation, where aspects of traditional Advaita to varying degrees are fused with a universalist and inclusivist approach to other religious traditions, as well as with what Heelas (1996) refers to as “Self-­ spirituality” (Thorsén 2022, 31–33; 219–21). Lucas (2014) discusses the tension embedded in the process of adaptations of teachings in his study of Modern Advaita in the West. Identifying two major strands of Advaita, that is, Traditional Modern Advaita and Non-Traditional Modern Advaita (of which the latter is synonymous with Neo-Advaita, and bears similarities with what Frisk (2002) identifies as the Satsang network), he argues that a faction has developed between these, and that the traditional faction has articulated critique on several points

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

55

against its more non-traditional counterpart. This critique, in short, has to do with disavowal of sādhanā, that is, spiritual practice; the lack of emphasis on necessity for moral development; insufficient grounding in Vedānta traditions; pre-transcendence, depersonalization, and level confusion; and shortcomings of the satsang format (Lucas 2014, 10–28; cf. Gleig 2011, 211–14). Concerning the last point, the criticism leveled against the perceived shortcomings of the satsang format includes the argument that attendees at more non-traditional forms of satsang rather seek self-help than ego transcendence (Lucas 2014, 23). While Modern Advaitic teachers active in North America have received previous scholarly attention (i.e., Gleig 2011, 2013; Lucas 2011, 2013, 2014), this is a phenomenon which has been less discussed in a Nordic context, which is the focal point here. It is therefore difficult to estimate how widespread these types of teachings are in this region. Frisk’s study of the Satsang network includes references to satsangs held at the Swedish retreat center Ängsbacka in 2000 (2002, 82–84). This means that satsangs and nonduality have been part of the Nordic spiritual landscape for at least two decades.4 Today there are, to my knowledge, at least two teachers of nonduality who currently offer satsangs and retreats in the Nordic region— Nukunu and Vasant Swaha—based in Denmark and Norway, respectively.5 What makes it even more difficult to talk of satsang and nonduality in a specifically Nordic context apart from the scarcity of previous research is that the nondual “Satsang network” is something of an ambulating movement where teachers, as well as those who listen to them, often travel to different locations to offer or participate in satsang. As will be further discussed below, the people I interviewed for my study of contemporary satsang and Modern Advaita—of whom the majority were living in western and northern Europe—had all traveled to Rishikesh in India to participate in satsangs and were not necessarily part of a nondual spiritual community in the countries where they lived. Rather than talking about a specifically Nordic Advaita context, it is therefore perhaps more fruitful to see this region as being part of a larger, ambulating network of teachers and practitioners of nonduality.

Rishikesh: A Meeting Place for Nondual Satsang Since around the end of the 1990s the North Indian pilgrimage town Rishikesh has become something of an international meeting place for nondual satsang, as a number of teachers from various places in the world

56 

E. THORSÉN

have started to go there in February–March to offer their teachings. Rishikesh started to gain international attention as a place to go for yoga and meditation at the end of the 1960s. Since then, it has developed into a form of center for international spiritual tourism (cf. Norman 2013). Between 2017 and 2019 I conducted altogether five months of fieldwork in Rishikesh in connection with writing a doctoral thesis on satsangs and Modern Advaita. At that time Rishikesh attracted teachers and practitioners of nonduality from a wide range of countries. While some of these were affiliated with the place through their guru lineage, others had no such links. Some of the satsangs in Rishikesh were intimate gatherings of a small group of people, while others were huge events requiring a sophisticated organizational apparatus. These satsangs, which were usually held in English, did not seem to attract that many people from the local population, but was mainly frequented by visitors from other parts of the world, or, somewhat more rarely, from other parts of India. Most satsangs, although some variety existed, were best defined as Non-Traditional Modern Advaita or Modern Universalist Advaita—the latter a label I have added to Lucas’ (2014) earlier conceptualization to be able to include a form of Advaita more characterized by eclectic hybridization of several different religious traditions, where nonduality functions as the overarching philosophy (Thorsén 2022, 31–33). Apart from participant observations during satsangs, the research material I collected included thirty interviews with twenty-five satsang participants who attended the satsangs of four different Non-Traditional/ Modern Universalist nondual teachers. These teachers were Mooji, a student of H.W.L Poonja and hence associated with the legacy of Ramana Maharshi, and ShantiMayi, Prem Baba, and Om Baba, who are all disciples of Hans Raj Maharajji of the Sacha lineage, whose ashram is in Rishikesh.6 This group of interlocutors could be described as belonging to a form of “cosmopolitan” middle class, in the sense that most had a higher education and a professional life that provided them with enough money and flexibility to spend several weeks away in Rishikesh. Many had made it a habit to travel to India or other parts of the world to participate in retreats and satsangs on a regular basis. Although the group included people living in Australia, North America, South America, and South Asia, the majority were living in western and northern Europe.7 Most had come to Rishikesh to attend the satsangs of a particular teacher, while some preferred to visit several different satsangs.

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

57

One of the topics that conversations revolved around was how people integrated their experiences of satsang in Rishikesh upon returning home to daily life, and it is to this we turn next.8

Nonduality in Daily Life As people returned home from Rishikesh, it was a quite different situation that awaited most. Coming back home meant having to find a way of combining the experiences of ultimate reality made during a retreat-like situation (in this case daily satsang) with the conventional reality of everyday life (cf. Pagis 2010, 484–86). Firstly, day-to-day life required taking on the perspective of conventional reality as it took on another pace and character through work, social activities, and everyday obligations such as going to the supermarket, mowing the lawn, or driving a car (as we shall see, stories about driving was something which came up more than once in interviews). People spoke of struggling with finding time for doing their daily spiritual practice due to their working schedule or having to overcome the desire to watch a movie instead of sitting down to meditate. Secondly, returning home for most meant having considerably less support in the form of other likeminded people around. While some interlocutors had possibilities of staying in regular contact with people from their spiritual community, or sangha, throughout the year, others mentioned having few sharing their interest in nonduality in the place where they lived. Cultivating a nondual outlook could therefore be a rather solitary project. Conversations with people sharing one’s spiritual orientation have been pointed out as vital when it comes to establishing and maintaining a particular religious identity and habitus (see Ammerman 2014; Collins 2002). Many, especially among those who had not been engaged in nonduality for very long, confessed that they missed having people around with whom they could discuss their spiritual interests. Besides spiritual conversations, having a regular spiritual practice, or sādhanā, was something which many interlocutors mentioned as an important part of continuing the process of deepening one’s nondual awareness in day-to-day life. In line with what Williamson (2010) described as one of the core aspects of Hindu-inspired meditation movements, sitting for silent meditation and/or japa (“mantra recitation”) was the most common technique mentioned as an everyday practice. Fourteen of the

58 

E. THORSÉN

interlocutors reported having a (more or less) daily routine of meditation and/or japa. Additionally, some of those who did not mention a regular routine of sitting for meditation talked of other practices such as breathing exercises (prāṇa ̄yāma), chanting, Qigong, or just trying to stay aware, which they performed daily. Apart from such more formalized spiritual practices, interlocutors talked of a range of other habits, practices, and objects which they associated with their spiritual aspirations. Placing notes with affirmations around one’s house, dancing, taking walks, painting, or singing could all be part of a spiritual practice. In short, practicing nonduality was not confined to meditating one hour per day. Rather, it was something which ideally should permeate all aspects of life. As Jay put it: [Spirituality] influences every area of my life. Because there’s sort of the concrete foundational practices [such as regular meditation], but then there’s the way I orient myself and the way, like, how to show up in moment to moment. […] I make sure to meditate, I make sure to exercise, I make sure to eat consciously, I make sure that the influences I’m absorbing from outside in books and media and movies, I ingest as consciously as possible. And I take a certain set of supplements and stuff that increases my wellbeing. Other stuff I cut out of my life, you know, like drinking and drugs and certain types of friendships or whatever. All those things are an expression of it. But also, how I show up in my friendships, with my family, with my relationships, with my work-life. All of it is trying to … express the best of myself. (interview with “Jay,” 2018)

A useful way of concretizing the cultivation of nonduality in day-to-day life which so aptly comes to the fore in Jay’s narrative is to apply the concept of habitus. Habitus is commonly associated with the definition offered by Bourdieu (2018), where it represents the subconscious internalization of traits primarily associated with one’s class and upbringing. Other definitions such as that offered by Mahmood (2012) build on older, Aristotelian interpretations where habitus is seen as a conscious cultivation of virtues. The limitations of these approaches to deal with the complexities of competing discourses found in contemporary societies have been discussed by Mellor and Shilling (2014), who in response have offered yet another definition of habitus. Mellor and Shilling suggest to re-construe habitus as an embodied orientation that can be reformed through individuals’ reflexive engagements amidst the shifting opportunities and constraints of contemporary life (2014, 280). According to such a

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

59

reconceptualization, the religious habitus is “subject to periodic change and is tied ineluctably neither to social reproduction nor to a single tradition” (280). These reflexive mediations of the habitus are, in other words, involved in “complex relations to the broader social and cultural transformations of which they are a part” (280). Mellor and Shilling, thus, suggest that: religious traditions both shape and are shaped by the internal conversations of individuals and the reflexive development and management of embodied dispositions and orientations. In this context, instauring a religious habitus can be understood as crafting a mode of being that locates human action, feeling and thought at the embodied intersection of worldly and other-­ worldly realities with the aim of imparting a particular directionality to life. (2014, 282)

In the remaining sections I will mainly have Mellor and Shilling’s definition in mind when sketching out some of the characteristic features of the cultivation of a nondual habitus among a group of practitioners of Non-Traditional/Universalist Modern Advaita.9

Self-Reflexivity: Observing the Mind and Cultivating Awareness One thing identified by interlocutors as a major obstacle on the spiritual path was the incessant chatter of the mind. The basic assumption in Modern Advaita is that the habitual identification with passing thoughts and emotions creates individual suffering as it contributes to strengthen the ultimately false sense of individuality, and hence duality, and obscures the “true,” nondual Self. Observing the workings of the mind and trying to disidentify with one’s thoughts, therefore, is a fundamental practice in the quest for self-knowledge. As my interlocutor Tulasi explained: [Thoughts] come and go, they always come and go. That we can’t stop, that will never happen. Your mind is always busy. Get it to rest! And it really gets off the weight of your thinking, your thoughts. And then there’s another tricky thing, that is, that by identifying with your thoughts, that means that we always say “I am jealous,” “I am angry,” “I am fearful of my fear,” “my anger.” Do you own your anger? Do you own your fear? No. (interview with “Tulasi,” 2018)

60 

E. THORSÉN

A self-reflexive disposition was probably the most characteristic feature of the nondual habitus in the sense of “crafting a mode of being.” This feature included several related techniques and approaches which all had to do with the cultivation of self-reflexivity and -knowledge, with the aim of learning to disidentify with one’s thoughts. The first of these approaches was what was variously talked of as self-­ inquiry, self-observation, or self-investigation. This was sometimes referred to as reflecting on the question “Who am I?”10 and other times as more generally observing one’s thoughts and the arising of emotions throughout the day. The second approach was that of “keeping the awareness” or mindfulness, that is, cultivating a general sense of awareness in daily life. In practice, these approaches were interrelated and often appeared to merge with one another. The ultimate aim of self-inquiry and the practice of presence and awareness (at least as articulated by teachers in satsang) was the realization of the nondual nature of the Self, and hence seeing through the habitual sense of identification with one’s “ego.” However, in practice these methods were not at all world-negating but seemed, in fact, to engage quite substantially with personhood, daily life, and social interactions. What transpired from interviews and dialogues in satsangs was that one of the results of practicing awareness and self-inquiry was a kind of habituated self-reflexivity, used to reflect upon inner states, dispositions, and conflicts. It was striking during interviews, for instance, how skilled interlocutors generally were when it came to reflecting upon their lives and what had shaped them. Self-reflexive remarks would often accompany a life-narrative, such as “that [being raised as a Catholic] presented a lot of conditioning”; “the core resistance [in me] became much more evident”; “this pattern of pain repeated itself a lot in my life”; or, more straightforwardly, “my identity bullshit is surely around being a yoginı ̄, traveler-gypsy person who loves India.” Practicing awareness and self-inquiry, thus, was in practice a way of dealing with the self on different levels; while the realization of the nondual, non-attached Self presented one form of ideal, on other levels, it was also appearing more as a therapeutic method which was helpful in managing life and personhood on a day-to-day basis. Omkar, for instance, described how low self-esteem and a general sense of dissatisfaction with life had pushed him to “do something” about his sense of self and how the teachings on self-inquiry of the guru he was currently following had provided him with a tool in that process:

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

61

Suffering, the sense of inferiority inside … very unstable self. The confidence, I saw that how I feel about myself is so much depending on how people see me. The reflections of people, if I get a good reflection. I felt there was nothing, I knew nothing about myself, it was all about what other people said. I was wondering, there must be something stable, there must be something inside which is not depending so much on other people. And listening to [Guruji], somehow I realized that […] there is something that you can discover not depending on people. (interview with “Omkar,” 2017)

Like Omkar, Tanja narrated how self-observation had proved to be a way of helping her deal with feelings of self-criticism: I was always a person who would be critical with myself, and really hard. I can’t really say when it started that I … sometimes manage to take a step back and look at myself. I’m still engaged in this voice talking, but […] I manage more and more to integrate these insights into my whole being. (interview with “Tanja,” 2018)

Another aspect of the self-reflexive disposition was what was talked of as awareness, or presence. This meant practicing to stay present in the moment rather than dwelling on past or future events, something that could be combined with self-inquiry. Victor described this practice as a form of “active meditation”: And this is kind of like an active meditation that is ongoing throughout the day, also when I wake up, how I wake up. And I’m describing it as if I’m constantly practicing, but this is something that is becoming more and more automatic. It’s not like I’m all the time thinking about it. It’s something that I’m trying to incorporate more and more, to strengthen this part of me that observes instead of being like flooded by my thoughts and ripped away in this stream of random consciousness which can go in any direction. (interview with “Victor” 2018)

In day-to-day life where chatting and checking one’s phone were almost automatic habits, keeping awareness could require something of a conscious effort. Sometimes various techniques were mentioned as part of practicing awareness, such as focusing on the breath, silently repeating a mantra, or taking a minute of silence a couple of times per day. It could also involve more direct methods, as in one case, to put up notes around

62 

E. THORSÉN

the house with reminders of those sentiments that were desirable to cultivate, such as “be here now” and “feel from the heart.” Self-inquiry/observation and awareness, hence, was widely practiced among satsang participants. A result derived from this preoccupation with understanding one’s “true” nature was a self-reflexive disposition which manifested in the way of speaking about, acting out, being aware of, and dealing with one’s emotional life and everyday sense of self.

Devotion: Finding Meaning in Day-to-Day Life A second aspect of the nondual habitus can be described as the cultivation of devotion. Among those who were affiliated with a particular guru, this disposition partly manifested in a more direct form as attempts of feeling the guru’s presence in day-to-day life. This was aided by the practicing of japa, that is, reciting a mantra transmitted from one’s guru, and having photos of her or him around one’s home. However, there was also another form of devotional cultivation noticeable, which was shared across all sections of interlocutors, including those who did not have bond with a particular guru. Giving devotion a wider meaning and application, this disposition was concerned with imbuing life with a spiritual meaning and direction, or, in Morgan’s (2005) words, cultivating a “sacred gaze” in daily life. The devotional or “sacred” gaze which people aimed to cultivate had both external and internal aspects. On several occasions, for instance, establishing good and spiritually uplifting habits were mentioned by interlocutors as something crucial to be able to keep up a spiritual life at home amid a hectic everyday life where other people did not necessarily share one’s spiritual outlook. As was seen in the previous quote from Jay, this could include being conscious about what type of information and culture one ingested and what types of environments one chose to spend time in. It could also include attempting to create a spiritually uplifting atmosphere in one’s home, such as having an altar with spiritually significant objects, lighting incense, or having pictures of gurus in visible places that could act as “reminders.” Using aural means by listening to spiritual music and recorded satsangs was another commonly mentioned way of cultivating a devotional disposition. Julia, for instance, meant that this was a way of keeping the connection with her guru and with the teachings from satsang. She would

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

63

sometimes also integrate this with her professional work and with that, add a spiritual dimension to day-to-day life: Sometimes I do like this, I’m working on some graphic design, and in the background of my working I put on one satsang, one recording, just by chance. And I put it on loop, and this loop goes on for hours, and meanwhile I’m working with other things. […] Many times, [the satsang] gives me … some clarity that in that moment I lost. Maybe for some specific reason, something that is happening in me, in my life at that moment because of work, or the house, or I don’t know, my mother. And that satsang which I by chance am listening to, it gives me some good words in the perfect moment. (interview with “Julia,” 2018)

The Advaita teacher Om Baba was once asked during a satsang why it was so much more difficult to keep up a spiritual life and daily practice at home in comparison with in Rishikesh. Om Baba’s suggestion was to try to “create an India around oneself” wherever one is in the world (fieldnotes 15 February 2017). What many people did at home was not that far from his metaphorical suggestion: Decorating one’s home with pictures, incense, and with the sound of recorded satsangs could be a way to cultivate a spiritually meaningful and “wholesome” atmosphere, similar to that experienced during satsangs in Rishikesh. On an internal level, the devotional disposition manifested as the cultivation of a spiritual way of “seeing” and apprehending the world. This could include to find a deeper meaning in events, or, as in Sunil’s case, to have a spiritual creed to live by. Sunil retold how the idea that “the reason you are born into this world is to find yourself” had for many years been a source of comfort and direction when difficulties occurred in life. Although many years passed, he could still vividly recall the moment this creed was first introduced to him by an American spiritual motivational speaker on the radio while he was out driving in his car one night feeling somewhat low, and this had in turn eventually led him to becoming interested in nonduality. Some who had been involved in nondual teachings for twenty or so years described how a state of nonduality had started to occur naturally in day-to-day life. Karen, a long-time practitioner of Modern Advaita, retold how she could have the experience of openness, wideness and love in the most mundane circumstances, such as while driving on the highway and seeing that everything—even the cars—was love. (interview with “Karen,” 2018)

64 

E. THORSÉN

Being able to—or trying to—see meaning, beauty, and love in all sorts of situations, also the sad or mundane ones, was thus an important part of the cultivation of a devotional approach to life. This, in turn, could require the help of material means such as spiritual images and music, together with a conscious ingestion of input from the outside world.

Human Interconnectedness: Seeing Oneself in Others When asked whether they could recall any event from their daily lives where they felt that the spiritual teachings that they were following had really helped them, an overwhelming majority of interlocutors related to events which included improved relations with others. This indicated that human relations, and more precisely a sense of human interconnectedness, were a vital component in the cultivation of a nondual habitus. In practice, human interconnectedness was learnt and practiced as the aspiration to deepen one’s sense of communion with others by cultivating an attitude of being non-judgmental and understanding of people’s behavior and recognizing one’s own responsibility in relations. As Tulasi expressed it, it was about seeing that “you are the reflection of the other, or the other is the mirror of you.” The cultivation of interconnectedness could manifest as a general acceptance of people doing things differently. Matt mentioned being helped with his road rage when he was driving by trying to place himself in other drivers’ shoes: The first thing that comes to mind for me is when I’m driving back home or wherever. You know, I have a … I’m not good behind the wheel with other people. I have a bit of a road rage, or I get angry easy. But a lot of the teachings I’ve come to is again to be more heart-based in feeling and trying to understand what’s happening with that other person instead of just reacting and think of that they’re incompetent or shouldn’t be driving. I’m trying to put myself in their shoes. Maybe they’re having a bad day, or maybe their sight is limited, or maybe they’re old and their faculties are not there, or whatever the reason is. I’m trying to be more compassionate, more understanding. (interview with “Matt,” 2018)

Nourishing this kind of non-judgmental attitude toward oneself and others could also be about learning to take critique from others, such as

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

65

getting negative feedback in one’s professional work, but feeling able to handle it without getting upset or going into a defensive position. More often, the examples brought up were about improved relations with significant others such as partners, parents, or friends or being able to handle and solve a conflict or difficult situation with someone. In these examples self-responsibility was frequently emphasized, as in recognizing the dialogical nature of relations, rather than just blaming difficulties on the other part. Examples such as these included the improvement of a relationship with a parent, as in Tanja’s case: For sure [the spiritual teachings have helped in] my relationship with my mother. I can’t really describe how and why, but this is for me the main part, to see her more like a teacher of mine, the biggest one I have, than the person that I want to blame for all my disasters. Bringing self-responsibility in. And that’s in general something where I feel the teachings are integrating in my life, to get out of this blaming game which I did, and still do. I did it a lot, I still do it, but I observe that I am doing it. (interview with “Tanja,” 2018)

A last aspect of the disposition of recognizing human interconnectedness, related to the cultivation of a non-judgmental attitude, was found in the attempt to interpret those relations that were felt to be somewhat problematic as “teachings” instead of “failures” or “problems.” As Patrick expressed it, those people with whom he did not always get along or agree with were “the brothers and sisters” whom he “learns the most from” (interview with “Patrick,” 2018). In the same way as the cultivation of a devotional disposition had a meaning-making function, so too could this way of reasoning give a deeper meaning to relationships that were felt to be somewhat challenging.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries As many other Eastern practices, Advaita has undergone significant changes in its transmission to a northern European context. What emerges from the above analysis of the cultivation of a nondual habitus is a practice which not only focused on transcending the habitual sense of self, but equally much on improving it. Self-reflexivity could be a way of dealing with disturbing thoughts and emotions; devotion a way to imbue meaning

66 

E. THORSÉN

to daily life; and human interconnectedness a way of improving one’s relations with others. What remains in this last section is to offer some reflections on how we might understand the underlying reasons for these adaptations. At the outset of this chapter the definition of modern societies as individualized “me-societies” (Stolz and Könemann 2016, 1) was introduced. Basing their discussion on the earlier work of Rieff (1966), Fitzpatrick and Parsons (2018) have offered a similar theorization of, in this case, Western societies as characterized by a shift to a therapeutic culture. What this is referring to is the rise of a psychological culture championing a psychological and therapeutic mode of self-relating (Fitzpatrick and Parsons 2018, 30–32), something which is closely related to an increased focus on the individual. This therapeutic turn has affected the sphere of religion as well, partly by being integral to the increase of “spiritual but not religious” sentiments, and partly by the rise of “psychospirituality,” that is, the view of psychology as a form of spirituality (Fitzpatrick and Parsons 2018, 35–37; Gleig 2012). From these perspectives, the following inferences regarding the interest in and adaptations of Advaita in northern Europe can be made: Firstly, although Advaita offers a radically different ontology than psychology, the focus on self-inquiry appears to make the two somewhat related. This compatibility is confirmed by the fact that there nowadays exists a therapeutic orientation referred to as nondual therapy, where self-inquiry is used as a therapeutic technique (Lattanzio 2020).11 Thus, through the shared interest in questions concerning the self, Advaita appears to harmonize well with a “therapeutic culture.” As a teacher of nonduality I once interviewed expressed it, both satsang and psychotherapy involve a process of “digestion of the old emotions that are being stored in our subconscious” that “come on the surface, in order to be differently addressed, differently perceived.” But at the same time, he added, satsang offers something more—a “component of the divine” in the form of the absolute or the Self which is lacking in psychotherapy (Interview with Marius 2016). Secondly, if we understand habitus as something that is being shaped by individuals in relation to broader social and cultural transformations, as Mellor and Shilling (2014) suggest, then a tradition such as Advaita, in its practiced form, is bound to change. As people return home from places such as Rishikesh, they adjust their practice to the needs and requirements of their daily lives and surroundings.

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

67

The developments and adaptations of Modern Advaita to meet the requirements of contemporary times and cultures have not always been met with approval by more traditionalist factions (Lucas 2014). Regardless of which position one takes in this matter, the analysis of how a nondual habitus is shaped and cultivated among practitioners in northern and western Europe offers a fascinating account of how the philosophy of Advaita has become a way to cope with matters of the self in both practical and ontological modes. In the end, it is perhaps the combination of techniques dealing with the self in a day-to-day sense and the ultimate vision to get past rather than needing to promote one’s individual self that has made modernized forms of Advaita a viable spiritual option in individualized “me-societies” where psychological and therapeutic modes of self-­ relating are commonplace.

Notes 1. To distinguish the Advaitic concept of the nondual Self (ātman) from other usages of the term self, it is here referred to with a capital S. 2. This analysis of the nondual habitus is based on a part of my doctoral thesis, which was published in 2022 (see Thorsén 2022). 3. Gleig (2011, 209–10) offers a similar discussion of the existence of a loose network of teachers of nonduality which she refers to as “satsang culture.” 4. At present, however, the courses and festivals offered at Ängsbacka appear to mainly focus on Tantra (see Ängsbacka n.d.). If being representative for a more general development and change of course, this indicates that the offer of satsangs is on the decline rather than increasing in the Nordic region. 5. See the respective website of these teachers (Nukunu n.d.; Vasant Swaha n.d.) 6. For a further presentation of these teachers, see Thorsén 2022. 7. All names of informants have been altered. 8. In the interview material there was little indicating that people who lived in northern Europe—a part of the world usually considered highly secularized—experienced their return home from Rishikesh differently than those who were living in other parts of the world, such as the United States to take one example. Factors such as how long people had been engaged in nondual teachings and the level of spiritual support they experienced in their day-to-­day life emerged as more decisive factors than in what country people lived. It would, however, require a larger group of interlocutors to ascertain to what extent factors such as the level of secularization in one’s country of residence affected the general sense of understanding from society at large for one’s nondual practice. Given that people from different

68 

E. THORSÉN

parts of the world described relatively similar experiences, I have not excluded those living outside of northern Europe in the following analysis of the nondual habitus. 9. For a similar application of the spiritual habitus, see Di Placido’s (2018) analysis of the yogic habitus in a Neo-Vedāntic ashram. 10. The usage of the question “Who am I?” as a method for self-inquiry is associated with the South Indian Advaita teacher Ramana Maharshi. 11. See also Rybak, Sathaye and Deuskar (2015) for a scholarly discussion on the similarities between satsang and group counseling.

References Ammerman, Nancy Tatom. 2014. Sacred Stories, Spiritual Tribes: Finding Religion in Everyday Life. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press. Ängsbacka. n.d. Upcoming at Ängsbacka. https://www.angsbacka.com/event/. Accessed 22 May 2022. Bourdieu, Pierre. 2018. Outline of a Theory of Practice, Translated by Richard Nice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Collins, Peter J. 2002. Habitus and the Storied Self: Religious Faith and Practice as a Dynamic Means of Consolidating Identities. Culture and Religion 3: 147–161. Davis, Leesa S. 2011. Advaita Veda ̄nta and Zen Buddhism: Deconstructive Modes of Spiritual Inquiry. London, New York: Continuum. De Michelis, Elizabeth. 2005. A History of Modern Yoga: Patanjali and Western Esotericism. London, New York: Continuum. Di Placido, Matteo. 2018. Serving, Contemplating and Praying: Non-Postural Yoga(s), Embodiment and Spiritual Capital. Societies 8: 78. Fitzpatrick, Sean, and William B. Parsons. 2018. The triumph of the therapeutic and being Spiritual but Not Religious. In Being Spiritual but Not Religious: Past, Present, Future(s), ed. William B.  Parsons, 30–44. London, New  York: Routledge. Forsthoefel, Thomas A. 2018. Knowing Beyond Knowledge: Epistemologies of Religious Experience in Classical and Modern Advaita. London, New  York: Routledge. Frisk, Liselotte. 2002. The Satsang Network: A Growing Post-Osho Phenomenon. Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions 6: 64–85. Gleig, Ann. 2011. Enlightenment After the Enlightenment: American Transformations of Asian Contemplative Traditions. PhD dissertation. Rice University. ProQuest Dissertations Publishing. ———. 2012. The Return of the Repressed?: Psychoanalysis as Spirituality. Implicit Religion 15: 209–224.

  GETTING PAST THE EGO: MODERN ADVAITA AND THE CULTIVATION… 

69

———. 2013. From Being to Becoming, Transcending to Transforming: Andrew Cohen and the Evolution of Enlightenment. In Homegrown Gurus: From Hinduism in America to American Hinduism, ed. Ann Gleig and Lola Williamson, 189–214. Albany: State University of New York Press. Halbfass, Wilhelm. 1990. India and Europe: An Essay in Philosophical Understanding. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Heelas, Paul. 1996. The New Age Movement: The Celebration of the Self and the Sacralization of Modernity. Oxford: Blackwell. King, Richard. 1999. Orientalism and Religion: Postcolonial Theory, India and “The Mystic East”. London, New York: Routledge. Lattanzio, Nicholas G. 2020. I Am that I Am: Self-Inquiry, Nondual Awareness, and Nondual Therapy as an Eclectic Framework. PhD dissertation. Argosy University. ProQuest Dissertations Publishing. Lucas, Phillip Charles. 2011. When a Movement Is Not a Movement: Ramana Maharshi and Neo-Advaita in North America. Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions 15: 93–114. ———. 2013. Neo-Advaita in America: Three Representative Teachers. In Homegrown Gurus: From Hinduism in America to American Hinduism, ed. Ann Gleig and Lola Williamson, 163–187. Albany: State University of New York Press. ———. 2014. Non-Traditional Modern Advaita Gurus in the West and Their Traditional Modern Advaita Critics. Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions 17: 6–37. Madaio, James. 2017. Rethinking Neo-Vedanta: Swami Vivekananda and the Selective Historiography of Advaita Vedanta. Religions 8: 101. Mahmood, Saba. 2012. Politics of Piety: The Islamic Revival and the Feminist Subject. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press. Mellor, Philip A., and Chris Shilling. 2014. Re-conceptualising the Religious Habitus: Reflexivity and Embodied Subjectivity in Global Modernity. Culture and Religion 15: 275–297. Morgan, David. 2005. The Sacred Gaze: Religious Visual Culture in Theory and Practice. Los Angeles: University of California Press. Norman, Alex. 2013. Spiritual Tourism: Travel and Religious Practice in Western Society. London, New York: Bloomsbury. Nukunu. n.d. Nukunu. http://nukunu.net/. Accessed 3 June 2022. Pagis, Michal. 2010. From Abstract Concepts to Experiential Knowledge: Embodying Enlightenment in a Meditation Center. Qualitative Sociology 33: 469–489. Paranjape, Makarand R. 2012. Making India: Colonialism, National Culture, and the Afterlife of Indian English Authority. Sophia Studies in Cross-cultural Philosophy of Traditions and Cultures 2. Rieff, Philip. 1966. The Triumph of the Therapeutic. New York: Harper.

70 

E. THORSÉN

Rybak, Christopher, Deepa Sathaye, and Megha Deuskar. 2015. Group Counseling and Satsang: Learning From Indian Group Practices. The Journal for Specialists in Group Work 40: 147–162. Stolz, Jörg, and Judith Könemann. 2016. Introduction: Religion and Spirituality in the Me-Society. In (Un)Believing in Modern Society. Religion, Spirituality, and Religious-Secular Competition, ed. Jörg Stolz, Judith Könemann, Mallory Schneuwly Purdie, Thomas Engelberger, and Michael Krüggeler, 1–9. Farnham, Surrey, Burlington: Ashgate Publishing. Thorsén, Elin. 2022. In Search of the Self: A Study of the International Scene of Modern Advaitic Satsang in Present-Day Rishikesh, PhD dissertation. Gothenburg: University of Gothenburg. Vasant Swaha. n.d. Vasant Swaha. https://vasantswaha.net/. Accessed 3 June 2022. Williamson, Lola. 2010. Transcendent in America: Hindu-Inspired Meditation Movements as New Religion. New York, London: New York University Press.

Modern Yoga and the Nordic Body: Between Authenticity and Cultural Appropriation Marianne Qvortrup Fibiger

Introduction Every group in every age has created its version and vision of yoga. One reason this has been possible is that its semantic field—the range of meanings of the term ‘yoga’—is so broad and the concept of yoga so malleable, that it has been possible to morph it into nearly any practice or process one chooses. (David White 2012, 2) Yoga is all sorts of different things, and no one has a patent on what real yoga is. (Rikke Skårup interviewed in Lerbech Pedersen 2016, author’s translation)

Hot yoga, beer and wine yoga, drop-in yoga, Kriya yoga, Iyengar yoga, yoga for children, yoga for pregnant women—I could go on. The list of the various forms and versions of yoga offered in contemporary Denmark is very long, confirming the quotation above from David G. White, who

M. Q. Fibiger (*) Department of Religious Studies, Aarhus University, Aarhus, Denmark e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_4

71

72 

M. Q. FIBIGER

adopts a very broad definition of yoga in the introduction to his 2012 book, Yoga in practice, a definition that emphasizes not only the dynamics but also the floating understandings of the concept throughout Indian history. That yoga can in many ways be understood as a floating signifier (Fibiger 2020), that is referring to a practice that connects to something else in a particular way, is important to bear in mind when considering yoga in a contemporary Nordic context. “Floating” does not mean that yoga has no meaning at all, but that that meaning is associative. It acquires a particular meaning, not only linguistic (Newcombe 2020) but also social and cognitive, in relation to other things. This can be seen in the second quote above, from Rikke Skårup: founder of the Danish branch of a Christian-based yoga, Yogafaith. She delinks yoga from its Indian background and relinks it to Christianity. She argues in an interview in a Danish newspaper that because yoga can be defined so broadly, no tradition has a patent on yoga as a particular meaning system. She makes the point that yoga is a particular practice that can easily be coupled to or inscribed in other traditions. And she emphasizes the benefits of integrating yoga practice into the Danish church when she says: “Yoga’s movements are about strengthening the body, getting down into the body and getting a body in balance, while it also focuses on the spiritual journey” (Lerbech Pedersen 2016).1 She is expressing her conviction that yoga allows her to express her Christian faith with her whole body, but without forgetting that Jesus comes first and yoga as second. A similar argument for integrating yoga is encountered not just in fitness centres and sports clubs, but in many secularized yoga offerings, where the focus is not on optimizing the relationship with Jesus, or any form of religious or spiritual understanding, but on optimizing yourself— either by performing better or as a coping strategy for achieving a more balanced life, becoming a better version of yourself. Yoga is generally viewed as stress-reducing, a view that goes hand in hand with the modern health episteme (Jacobsen 2006) and can be tailored to a changing scientific discourse that is based on a holistic understanding of the body and mind as being the key to good health (Hauser 2014). These different tendencies of cultural appropriation of yoga together with a strive for connecting yoga with its “roots” are in line with what Tsing (2005) describes as friction in her work on how transcultural encounters both ease and restrict the exchange of ideas or practices. The concept of friction not only emphasizes the fluctuation and flow of ideas and practices but also highlights that globalization is a multifaceted

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

73

process containing both forces that are centrifugal (from the centre to the periphery) and those that are centripetal (from the periphery to the centre). The purpose of my project focussing on yoga in Aarhus, a Danish municipality with a population of about 310,000, was to identify what kind of transformations—if any—that could be found within the milieu within recent years. The overall aim was related to the understanding of yoga as being either a secular or a spiritual practice showing possible centrifugal or centripetal tendencies. Centrifugal forms of yoga are when yoga becomes to a greater or lesser extent delinked from its Indian roots and relinked to another system of meaning, whether this is religious, spiritual, or secular. This is by the far most common type of yoga offering in contemporary Denmark. The alternative, centripetal, movement is a tendency I have noticed within the last couple of years that can be further described as a search for authenticity that can root yoga to its “authentic” Indian background. Yoga and the practice of yoga in Aarhus thus seem to be moving in two opposing directions with either centrifugal or centripetal overtones. In other words, yoga as a field has become more diverse and less distinct as it is commonly understood as heterogeneous, contextual, and malleable, particularly in contemporary times in a global world (De Michelis 2004, 2008; Goldberg 2018, Hauser 2014; Jain 2015; Newcombe 2009, 2020; Singleton 2010; Strauss 2002). This challenges the way we categorize it. This has formed my overall research question: Has yoga changed in such a way that it can be problematic to use as an overall category within the study of religion? Or in contrary: is it a very good example on the dynamic but also elasticity of an Eastern practice that can be transformed in such a way that it suits a Nordic context?

Yoga in a Nordic Context That yoga is a special dynamic and changing field underlines the importance of taking context into account. Context is associative: it can refer to how yoga and the understanding of yoga can change with the situational, social, cultural, historical, personal but also geographical context. What lies at the centre of one representation of yoga may therefore be in the periphery of another. To put it another way, as expressed by Singleton and Byrne, “it might be helpful to think more generally of yogas, with a multiplicity of definitions and interpretations, rather than to a single yoga, that

74 

M. Q. FIBIGER

we could seek to define and circumscribe” (2008, 5). This does not mean that we cannot define yoga with some common key features for instance as being a specific practice, working within a certain overall worldview and view of human nature that historically in some way or another can be traced back to the Indian tradition. But we also need to consider the very different ways yoga has been interpreted in its history and its adaptation to very different contexts. We therefore must take the social constructive view seriously, reminding us that we need to reconceptualize yoga on an ongoing basis always considering the place and space in which it is embedded. This is also important in the context of the Nordic countries in general and Denmark in particular, not least for the question of how yoga is shaped by, but is also reshaping, the Nordic understanding of the body in contemporary times. This mutual interrelatedness is a significant factor as we try to understand the growing importance of yoga in contemporary Denmark. There are numerous similarities between the forms of yoga we encounter in the Nordic countries and other European countries due to the ongoing global exchange of practices and ideas, but there will always be small nuances of difference. In other words, yoga can best be understood as an entangled network of multiple agents, sources, and discourses, shaped not only by history in general but by specific historical, social, and geographical settings. A good starting point is to understand yoga from a polythetic and prototypical approach, underlining both similarities and differences.2 What I have found to be a crucial similarity across nearly all representations of modern yoga is the interpretation of the body as a vehicle, a microcosm, or a prison that the yoga practitioner must deal with somehow.3 What differs not only from individual to individual and group to group but also according to cultural, geographical, and social settings, are two factors: first, the understanding of the body; and second, whether the yoga practice is understood as essentially religious, spiritual, secular, or something in between. This sensitivity to context is shaped not only by the history (or better histories) of yoga but also by the way yoga is entangled in different settings at particular times in history. Because the understanding of the body is crucial in nearly all forms of yoga, not exclusive to Hatha or postural yoga, I find that the reception of the body in a Nordic context is a good starting point for explaining not only the Nordic impact on modern forms of postural yoga (see Singleton 2010 and Korsgaard 2022) but also how we might understand more

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

75

“clean-cut” secular forms of yoga in the Nordic countries. The yoga group JO:GA, which I found only in Denmark, rewrites the word “yoga” to JO:GA to signal that they have toned down all possible relations to a religious or spiritual background in all aspects. Here is what they write on their home page: [jo:ga] is for you who want to train effectively, strengthen your body, and create balance and calm in your mind. Our goal is that you leave the class stronger, happier and with a more flexible body. The better you feel the class has been for you and your body, the happier you will be. We simply get a kick out of giving you good and effective yoga training. (JO:GA 2022)

Both Mark Singleton (2010) and the Danish historian Ove Korsgaard (2022) have stated that modern yoga is best understood as a global fusion phenomenon combining three elements: traditional Indian yoga (mainly Hatha yoga); bodybuilding; and the Scandinavian or Nordic gymnastics movement. This last was pioneered in the early nineteenth century by the Swedish gymnastic instructor and teacher Pehr Henrik Ling (1776–1839), then further developed in the early twentieth century by the Danish gymnastic instructor Niels Bukh (1880–1950). Both Singleton and Korsgaard point to the significance of this Swedish–Danish form of gymnastics in the Indian education system in the interwar period. In 1919 the YMCA (in Danish called the KFUM) had established a college in India where Indians could receive leadership training in sports; and the British army’s training of Indian officers and soldiers also contributed to the spread of Ling and Bukh’s gymnastics across India, as in many schools it was demobilized Indian officers who taught gymnastics. Niels Bukh’s gymnastics was thus quite a prevalent system in India in the 1930s; during the same period, however, ashtanga vinyasa yoga was developed, incorporating new yoga postures hat had not been seen before. This new form of yoga also spread to America and around Europe but became fused into other systems or reinterpreted and given new meanings in those contexts. Another important historical development in the twentieth century that may explain the popularity of yoga in a Western and therefore also a Nordic context was the translation and adaptation of yoga not just to a health episteme but also a scientific one. According to Jacobsen (2006), Alter (2004), and Singleton (2010), this process was taking place at around the same time as Ling and Bukh’s development of Nordic gymnastics and was especially owing to the scientific studies undertaken by two

76 

M. Q. FIBIGER

Indian yoga teachers and swamis, Kuvalayananda (1883–1966)4 and Yogendra (1897–1989).5 These two teachers began to investigate the effects of prāṇa ̄yāma (breathing exercises) and āsanas (postures) on the mind and body using scientific terminology and methods. In the West, physical yoga had generally been viewed with great scepticism before the twentieth century (Alter 2004); Kuvalayananda and Yogendra therefore tried to demystify physical yoga and translate its mystical language into scientific concepts, such as oxygen for prāṇa (life force), nerves for nadis (energy channels of the body), and organs for chakras (energy centres). Their work gave yoga a universal language that could be communicated to the West (Jacobsen 2006). Both Kuvalayananda and Yogendra wanted to establish scientific proof of the health benefits of yoga, but it was especially Kuvalayananda who tried not just to measure its physical effects, but to argue for the therapeutic use of yoga exercises in the treatment of various diseases (Singleton 2010, 115). Although the translation of yoga into a scientific language is significant in the contemporary Nordic context, it is important not to forget that for Niels Bukh, his primary motive was neither to promote his new form of gymnastics around the world nor to give it a scientific aura, but to train young male Danish farmers. In the first place, he wanted to teach them to avoid stiffness and bad postural habits; but also, inspired by the Danish theologian Grundtvig (1783–1872), he wanted to teach them to become “good citizens.”6 In 1920, Bukh founded the first Danish sports college or high school in Ollerup. Here, Grundtvig’s understanding of the interdependence between a healthy mind and body was an important focal point. Today, the Grundtvigian approach has become an argument for re-establishing a stronger focus on the relationship between body and mind in the Danish Folkekirke or national church. It is significant that at least 28 of the exercises in the first edition of Bukh’s textbook on gymnastics bear a striking resemblance to yoga exercises in ashtanga yoga (Korsgaard 2022). I find this resemblance important not only when understanding the possible nuances, we find in the reception of yoga in a Danish and Nordic context, not least when it comes to the interrelation between body and yoga in a Nordic context. I hope with the following case study on yoga in Aarhus to contribute some examples of this.

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

77

Yoga in Aarhus I have followed the development of and changes in the practice of yoga in Aarhus over more than twenty years. With some of my students, we mapped yoga in Aarhus at four points in time, in 2002, 2012, 2016, and 2021.7 On all occasions, we approached yoga groups that had a physical address in Aarhus and conducted interviews with one or two representatives, following a structured interview guide with the following headings: history, practice, membership, financing, and relations with other groups in Aarhus. The interviews were supplemented by participant observations. In 2016 we carried out 10 in-depth interviews with 10 yoga teachers, in addition to administering a questionnaire with approximately 130 yoga practitioners. We used both snowball sampling and random sampling to collect the questionnaires, asking some of the yoga teachers we interviewed to share the questionnaire in their network via Facebook, and others to distribute it by way of their yoga classes at the yoga schools. About 20% of the respondents in our study were aged between 40 and 65, and the rest between 18 and 40. The group aged between 30 and 40 was particularly well represented. The yoga teachers included in the study can be roughly divided into three categories: (1) independent yoga teachers, each with their own private yoga offerings; (2) organized yoga schools, often associated with an internationally known yoga school; and (3) general gymnastic and fitness centres. In addition, a spokeswoman from Danish Yoga and a yoga teacher who taught both in fitness and at yoga schools gave us their insights into the differences and similarities between yoga in various forums. We would have liked to include yoga teachers and instructors teaching in companies, kindergartens, and schools, but our project was time-limited and could not accommodate this. The 2021 survey was intended to follow up on and map changes to the 2016 survey. Here we primarily analysed how the various yoga groups were presenting themselves on their homepages, supplementing this with 15 in-depth interviews with new yoga groups or with the yoga groups where we found most changes. At the same time, I investigated the increasing interest in and use of yoga in the Danish Folkekirke (Danish National Church), as well as carrying out a few interviews.8 The presentation that follows is primarily based on the last two surveys (of 2016 and 2021). But first, a short overview of developments within the last twenty years in Aarhus. In 2002 there were only five yoga groups

78 

M. Q. FIBIGER

with addresses in Aarhus. In 2012, this number had increased to 20, in 2016 it was more than 40, and in 2021 it was about 55. So, the number of yoga groups of various kinds has grown; but this has been a complex process. Only a few groups have maintained their presence in Aarhus throughout the entire period; more than 90% have either disappeared or found a new form and/or name. Some have amalgamated with other yoga groups, some have disappeared and been replaced by other yoga groups, and others again are linked to major organizations such as schools, enterprises, and businesses, which tend to offer yoga as one among a basket of several options. But it is not only the yoga landscape that has changed; so has its discourse formation, both in external perspective as seen by society at large, and internally as understood within the groups themselves. While yoga in society at large in 2002 was looked upon with a certain scepticism, it has today become a primarily positive signifier. This is evident not only in our material, but in a consensus about yoga in public life. And while in 2002, three of the five groups we approached declined to participate in our mapping because they feared that a focus on religion and spirituality might damage their reputation in Aarhus, this was no longer a problem in 2016 or in 2021, by which time the understanding of yoga both as practice and as trope had broadened out and, in many aspects, had become a positive signifier (Fibiger 2020). The range of activities with which yoga is associated in Denmark has also grown during the past few years. In some respects, it has become more secularized, in others more spiritualized—or even what might be termed “authentified.” Comparing my first study with those in 2016 and particularly 2021, it is interesting to note that the landscape is growing increasingly fluid, with stronger centrifugal and centripetal tendencies. As I will show in what follows, the overall reason for practising yoga seems to be more or less the same, but how yoga is linked to other systems of religious or secular meaning has changed.

Analysis of Developments in Yoga in Aarhus9 In our survey of yoga in Aarhus, both in 2016 and in 2021, virtually all the yoga groups describe the benefits of doing yoga from both a physical and a psychological health perspective. Eighty-nine per cent of our respondents (out of 140)10 believe that yoga can reduce stress a great deal, 78% of our respondents also practise meditation, and 41% practise mindfulness, showing that people who practise yoga often practise other stress-reducing

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

79

or meditative activities as well. Eighty-three per cent of our respondents believe that yoga not only creates inner peace, but results in a healthy body; 80% of the respondents believe that yoga is a good form of exercise; and as many as 46% believe to some extent that yoga is healthier than other forms of exercise. One of the arguments for perceiving yoga as an extremely healthy form of exercise is that it combines a healthy body and a healthy mind, which 62% of our respondents ranked as the most important or second most important reason for practising yoga. Table 1 shows that yoga is most often understood as a combination of spirituality and fitness, but also that our analytical categories we usually apply do not fit the yoga practitioners’ own understanding. Table 2 gives an overview of what the yoga practitioners ranked as the most important feature of yoga for them. The informants were asked to rank the features from 1–6, with 1 as the most important. One of the main reasons why people practise yoga is because they believe it reduces stress. Almost 40% of Danes over the age of 18 say that they feel stressed on a daily or weekly basis (Statistics Denmark 2015); and for our informants, yoga appears to be a way of achieving some kind of peace in a fluctuating and stressful daily life. In our surveys, 93% of the respondents reported that yoga gave them inner peace, and 40% chose inner peace as the most important aspect of yoga. Table 1  Your understanding of yoga As primarily gymnastics, or fitness As primarily spirituality As primarily religion As primarily a combination of spirituality and fitness As something else that does not fit the above categories

16.7% 2.2% 0.8% 57.8% 22.5%

Table 2  The most important features you relate to yoga Rank 1 Rank 2 Rank 3 Rank 4 Rank 5 Rank 6 It gives inner peace The spiritual teaching behind it That yoga is also meditation It is healthy for the body It is part of an old Indian tradition It combines fitness and spirituality

42.5% 8.6% 9.2% 42.3% 10.0% 22.3%

25.1% 14.2% 13.0% 30.1% 8.4% 15.8%

13.9% 21.3% 32.4% 6.8% 15.0% 23.3%

2.5% 18.2% 27.2% 7.4% 16.8% 21.5%

7.7% 20.4% 15.0% 4.6% 17.5% 10.0%

8.3% 17.3 3.2% 8.8% 32.3% 7.1%

80 

M. Q. FIBIGER

This is also what the manager of Hamsa Yoga, Aarhus, is referring to when she described two main reasons why people practise yoga today: “It’s either because they are totally drained or totally stressed. They often say that their nervous system is running too fast and needs to calm down.”11 The same point was made by the team manager of Fitness World Aarhus when we asked him why he thinks yoga has experienced a boom within the last ten years, leading to its inclusion in the range of activities offered by his centres: I really think it’s a bit of a mix of several things. I think part of it is that people are getting more and more busy. You can also see it in relation to stress, which is also growing, because people say that yoga helps to destress. And then people are far more aware of their bodies these days, and of what their bodies should be able to do.12

In 2021, Fitness World Aarhus offered three forms of yoga: Body Flow, described as “a mix of Yoga, Pilates and Tai Chi”; Hatha Yoga, described as “exercises to promote agility, strength, balance and body awareness”; and Flow Yoga, “a dynamic form of yoga where the yoga positions are linked in a flow.” All three of these forms of yoga have in common that they are body/mind training (Fitnessworld 2023). Underlining that health is perceived as a holistic issue involving not only physical aspects but also emotional balance and mental energy, the latter being regarded almost as an obligation (Jørgensen 2002). This combination or focus of body and mind is expressed on almost all the websites of the 55 yoga schools or activities we found in 2021. For instance, a new form of yoga called Corpus Vitalis Yoga, which was not present in 2016, is described in these terms: Corpus Vitalis Yoga will help people to get to know their bodies, making them healthy physically and combining this with inner peace, tranquillity and harmony. … We will practise calm, deep breathing combined with conscious movements, as well as focusing on achieving a positive mindset. This will provide you with a unique tool for achieving a successful and relaxed daily life. (Aabyhøj Yoga 2022)

On the purpose of practising yoga, the group states “A relaxed, conscious person has more success” (Aabyhøj Yoga 2022).

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

81

Its perception as stress-reducing seems to be one of the main reasons why yoga has spread to the fitness area and all other areas of sports association life. For instance, many football and handball clubs now have yoga as part of their training to optimize players’ performance on the pitch; and the Danish Gymnastics and Sports Association (DGI) even includes five good reasons for sports clubs to use yoga on their home page (Arnth 2019). Reading this advice makes it very clear that body and mind are thought to form a holistic system, though with the body as the fulcrum. This becomes clear when reading the five good reasons, where for instance the fourth is emphasizing, how it is important to: “Learn how to read the signals from your body.” In this respect yoga is being inscribed in a neoliberal context as part of the need for optimization, as underlined by Charles Taylor (2007), who points to this process as a key factor in a Late Modern society that seems to be overheating in an accelerating society (Rosa 2015). The local Aarhus DGI association, which aims to attract non-­ professionals, places a strong focus on yoga as stress-reducing. As one of the yoga instructors explains: Yes, what is happening in Denmark today is that our everyday life is getting more and more busy. We just cannot follow the speed any longer. And there are no breaks. For instance, we must be online all the time and we have to perform etc. So, we know what people needs and are looking for: to stress down and to get a change to breathe. That is the main reason for us offering yoga.13

The team manager at Fitness DK gave the same answer when we asked him why he thought yoga has flourished in the past ten years. I actually think it’s a bit of a mixture of several things. I think part of it is that people are getting busier and busier. You can also see it in relation to stress, which is also growing, where it is said that yoga helps relieve stress. And then the whole wave of becoming more aware of what one’s body’s functions are and what it should be able to do.14

As already mentioned, the translation and adaptation of yoga to fit a scientific paradigm has been an important element of making yoga appealing for a wide spectrum of users in contemporary Denmark. A female yoga teacher from Samāveśa Yoga who we interviewed both in 2016 and in

82 

M. Q. FIBIGER

2021 had in the meantime trained to become a physiotherapist. She now uses her knowledge of anatomy and the physiological terms she learned in her training as a physiotherapist in her yoga teaching: I use more physiological terms and explanations. For instance, like “bring the shoulder-blades together to open the breast.” It means I do not use yoga concepts for what is happening in the body. You could say that yoga has become demythologized and translated into something people can relate to directly. This makes it much easier for me while I am teaching exactly the same thing as I did five years back.

This statement fits with Joseph Alter’s argument that yoga would never have experienced such popularity if it had not been passed on in a scientific language; but he also argues that yoga would not have experienced such great success if it had been reduced to exclusively physical exercises (Alter 2004). This accords with many of our informants’ approaches to yoga as seen in Table 1, which shows that 57.8% of them believe that yoga can best be seen as a blending of spirituality and exercise. I therefore conclude that one of the decisive reasons for the success of yoga in Denmark is that its spirituality and part-Eastern mysticism are expressed in scientific language, leading it to be perceived as a path to both inner and outer health. However, there are disagreements over how much or how little the spiritual aspect fills. And there is a continuum running from a near-absent focus on spirituality (as with JO:GA and as the interviews with the Fitness Centres and the DGI House showed) to a great deal of spirituality (as offered by some yoga providers, strongly associated with international yoga groups, but also with private yoga schools that emphasize the philosophical background to their practice). In 2021, we found at least five out of the total of 55 with this emphasis. As the following passage from the home page of a private yoga trainer shows: The embodiment plays a key part in my yoga. I create movements for the modern body via the old sacred teachings of yoga while giving each student the accessibility to get into their body. It sounds simple, but for many of us, this can be very hard. I do believe we in modern society have lost our way and understanding of how to use the human body to create a happy and healthy life. That is what I want to bring forth as a teacher of this sacred practice. (Clausen 2022)15

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

83

We can also apply a category that could termed “both and” to the following statement by the team manager at Fitness DK, who believed that the reason for yoga’s great success over the past ten years is that it has become less spiritual and more mainstream. To the question whether the users have become more or less spiritual in Fitness DK, he answered: I think people have become less so. I think that’s also what makes yoga in our centres boom a bit. The mystiques of it have been taken out of it a little, but on the other hand, yoga also attracts just having a little bit of Eastern mysticism connected to it. You know it gives this form of exercise a flavour that you cannot find in any of our other offers. Just saying ‘OM’ or putting your hands in an Indian salute makes it something else that people like. In that way, I am really split. (interview September 2021)

As our research on yoga in Aarhus shows, yoga as a phenomenon and as a special form of practice can be understood both narrowly and broadly; the emphasis can be placed on the practical side of yoga, largely separate from the spiritual, but also on a combination of the two aspects whereby the spiritual and the physical are combined in a holistic understanding of the body. This is what more than 50% of our informants referred to, either directly or indirectly. We can also conclude that yoga seems to contribute something that users did not find in other forms of exercise. Many of our informants, for example, also practised other exercise activities such as running (44.5%), strength training (approx. 30%), or cycling (30%). Since yoga has become commercialized (Jain 2015) and part of a business enterprise in the Danish setting, this effect the yoga instructors, who have made their yoga offers as their living. And most of them emphasize what the users put into the reason for practicing yoga is open for individual interpretation. Even Mia Clausen (quoted on the previous page) and the four yoga schools that emphasize their connection to an Indian background and also refer to divine energy, reincarnation, karma, and Indian gurus (in what we might term centrifugality) still leave it up to the users whether they wish to practice the spiritual side of yoga (in what we might term centripetality). I’m trying to create a yoga school where it is very much up to the people themselves whether they are interested in this spiritual side or not. After all, some people have a lot of complexes, and may not be ready to look at these things at all. It is completely up to them. (interview August 2021)16

84 

M. Q. FIBIGER

As we shall see in the next section, it is remarkable how yoga can be adapted to an ever-more heterogeneous user interface with both centrifugal and centripetal tendencies. The following paragraph is a short overview of the tendencies I found becoming stronger within the last five years. I base my conclusion on a comparison of our mappings in 2016 and 2021 and further support it with my research on the growing popularity of yoga in the Danish Folkekirke in the last few years. In this setting it is clear that yoga as a practice is understood as a way of becoming closer to the Christian, rather than the Indian tradition.

Yoga with Both Centrifugal and Centripetal Tendencies in Contemporary Time In the first place, in 2021, about five of the groups already present in Aarhus in 2016 underlined that they to a certain extent were more concerned to present a more authentic yoga than they had done in 2016. They referred to Sanskrit words, and they emphasized that their yoga teachers had been trained in India for a lengthy time in a recognized location connected to a special yoga school. They also referred to an Indian yoga teacher such as Iyengar and emphasized that they want to reappropriate yoga so that it can be done more authentically. This was not just something these groups had decided for themselves, but a growing interest they encountered among their yoga practitioners. Second, in contrast to these five groups, 15–20 groups emphasized the exact opposite, underlining that their form of yoga was disconnected from the Indian tradition and that their yoga practice has nothing to do with religion or spirituality but is, rather, a form of gymnastic or bodily practice with a stronger focus on the mind than other forms of bodily practice. This type of yoga was also present in 2016, for instance in fitness centres and evening schools, but the sense of disconnection from the Indian tradition was expressed more strongly in 2021.17 JO:GA, Acroyoga, dynamic yoga, and stress-sensitive yoga are examples of this trend in our material. Third, I found a new and growing tendency in our 2021 material. This can best be described as cultural appropriation, as part of a process of delinking and relinking whereby yoga is initially delinked from the Indian spiritual or religious tradition, then relinked to a new religious system of meaning. For example, an increasing number of national churches have introduced yoga as part of their practice in recent years. This tendency is

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

85

expressed in names such as Cross yoga, Church yoga, or Christian yoga (see for instance Yoga Church Denmark 2022). In an interview in Kristeligt Dagblad, Stine Ravnborg Nissen, a priest connected to Yoga Church Denmark, explains: Hindu yoga did not come close to me, simply because the tradition was too foreign. By bringing yoga into the church, it has become present …. We had a vision day back in 2012, where we talked about body and church. We wanted a concentrated focus on how we can cultivate the body using it as part of the faith, [and she elaborates:] For many Christians and those who come to church, the body is cut off. Faith has become far too intellectual and something that sits from the neck up. (Lønstrup 2021)

What becomes clear in the interview are two things: first, the delinking of yoga from the Hindu tradition, and second, the focus on what yoga can bring into the church, namely the body. The same argument was given by a priest, Nicolaj Stubbe Hørlyck, who uses yoga as part of his church sermons, with great success. He says: In the Danish national church, it must be said that we deal mostly with spirit and not so much with body. We fold our hands when we pray, and kneel when we receive the sacrament, but that’s it. I just believe that yoga can connect body and spirit. (Sonne 2016)

The following description of “Yogafaith Denmark” was given in an interview on Danish television: We seek God and his intention with our lives, through movements known from yoga. Yoga is partly a physically active way of meeting God and partly a space where the individual can find relaxation and time with God, to receive what he has in his heart. Yogafaith’s values are based on the Bible and its descriptions of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. It will be expressed through prayer, intention, movement, and meditation. It is not a criterion for participation that you are a Christian, as long as you are willing to open yourself to Christian peace. (Lerbech Pedersen 2016)

86 

M. Q. FIBIGER

It is important to bear in mind that yoga is seen as one among several new and additional activities offered by more and more churches in Aarhus, where at least five churches offer yoga regularly. In this connection, it is interesting to note that yoga is referred to as a bodily technique that can connect or reconnect its practitioners to Christianity—perhaps in a new light. As pointed out by one minister to a journalist, “yoga helps to make participants receptive to the sermon, prayer, readings and blessings that are included along the way” (Lønstrup 2022). As these examples show, I have registered both centrifugal and centripetal tendencies in connection with yoga as a practice, making yoga even more difficult to categorize and demonstrating the increasing range of activities that are defined as yoga in some shape or form.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries Our mappings of yoga in Aarhus and the examples given above of yoga in the Danish Folkekirke show that common to all contexts is that yoga is linked with health in a holistic system that integrates body/physicality and mind/psyche. Scientific studies that have demonstrated that yoga can reduce stress have contributed to this linkage. This is probably the main reason why yoga is now also offered by many public institutions and companies. Although in many aspects’ yoga seems to have become completely secularized, it is nevertheless wrapped in an aura of “mysticism or spirituality light” via mantra recitations, or the like. In our mapping of yoga in Aarhus, it also became clear that most of the yoga schools are toning down any sectarian relations to any Indian yoga organization. Most of them see their yoga school as a business that requires a certain income to survive. Therefore, yoga is adapted to the market, and the emphasis is primarily on the physical postures (āsanas) and breathing exercises, less on meditation. The independent yoga teachers we interviewed were generally more spiritual in their orientation than those affiliated with a yoga school or gym; and there seems to be room for them all on the market. It is, however, clear that the yoga market is constantly fluctuating. And although Fitness DK is currently primarily focusing on the fitness dimension of yoga, they are open to including more spiritual elements in their yoga

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

87

teaching if users request it. As one of the Fitness DK yoga teachers put it, “Yoga is for everyone, but it is not certain that everyone is ready for yoga.” I therefore conclude from our surveys and our mapping that yoga and the practice of yoga in contemporary Aarhus seems to be moving in at least three different directions. One of these directions is disconnecting yoga from the Indian Hindu tradition, making it more or less a secular practice; a second is trying to reconnect it to the Indian tradition as a form of reappropriation that aims to reconnect yoga to its presumed roots; and the third and final direction is disconnecting yoga from the Indian tradition, but reconnecting it to a different religious system of meaning, such as Christianity. What all three directions have in common is a holistic understanding of the body that, while it may stem from the Indian tradition, is more easily adaptable to fit a Danish but also Christian church setting because of the influence of Niels Bukh and Grundtvig. Jeremy Carrette (2000), who seeks to understand new forms of embodiment or “bodyfication” of tradition in a Western context, put it this way: The ‘displacement’ of the body and soul as interconnecting surfaces not only reorientates the understanding of the body but reconstitutes the understanding of spirituality as well. Foucault’s understanding of the soul opens the possibility of an embodied religion, a religious discourse which animates the body materiality. Spirituality is transformed into a process of shaping matter, of making bodies matter. (Carrette 2000, 125)

This might suit the Danish context as well when trying to decipher where or whether we can find any religiosity or spirituality left in new forms of yoga having the body in the centre. Yoga as an overall category within the study of religion is therefore a useful prism which identifies changes in the relation between bodily practices and religion in a Nordic context.

Notes 1. All translations are made by the author. 2. In this approach I am influenced by numerous scholars who were themselves influenced by Wittgenstein’s theory of family resemblances. See for instance Wilson 1998, 141–162; Doniger 2009, 28–29 and Jain 2015, 171–172. “Prototypical” refers to the fact that something labelled as yoga has many similar features (family resemblances or prototypicality), while “polythetic” refers to a shared cluster of qualities that are important for

88 

M. Q. FIBIGER

yoga as such [what does yoga as such mean?], but not essential to all representative forms of yoga, with the consequence that the combination of these qualities differs from group to group and from person to person. 3. Here I understand modern yoga as an analytical category focusing on yoga in a globalized world. Or, as defined by De Michelis, “The expression ‘Modern Yoga’ is used as a technical term to refer to certain types of yoga that evolved mainly through the interaction of Western individuals interested in Indian religions and a number of more and less Westernized Indians over the last 150 years” (De Michelis 2004, 2). This can be further elaborated in contemporary time by adding how modern yoga circulates in networks and discourses and is shaped and reshaped in an ongoing flow, yet, as underlined by Jain, is also “reflecting modern consumer cultural ideas and values” (Jain 2015, 3). 4. Kuvalayananda, also known as Jagannath G. Gune, was one of the main advocates for the adaptation of yoga to fit therapeutic and physical cultures. His first known public training in which he fused yoga with gymnastics was in 1907, in what Singleton (2010, 115) refers to as combat techniques and gymnastics. 5. Yoganandra was also known as Manibhai Haribhai Desai or by his nickname “Mr Muscle man” (Singleton 2010, 116–118; see also Foxen 2017). This nickname referred not just to his appearance, but also his passion for gymnastics, wrestling and all kinds of physical training. He aimed to bring together physical training, gymnastics, and the deep breathing or prānānyāma of yoga. In 1919 he travelled to the United States, where he established the Yoga Institute of America in New York. 6. Nikolai Frederik Severin Grundtvig was not only a theologian but also a poet, a writer, a historian, and a politician, as well as the main influence behind the foundation of the Danish high school, where his dictum “Human first, Christian second” is well known, as is his idea of education for everyone and his understanding of how a healthy mind and body coincide. His ideas and views of the world and life became rooted in a religious movement within the Danish Folkekirke. Grundtvigianism is, after Lutheranism, the most widespread tradition in Denmark today. Grundtvig’s focus on lay people rather than the clergy (his flat structure) and his focus on individual development, in which it is important to question everything in order to form one’s own opinions, are fundamental to today’s Danish school system. 7. I have been following the yoga environment in Aarhus since 2002. This has mostly been in connection with an ongoing mapping of religion, religiosity, and spirituality (the Aarhus religious pluralism project), which I and a number of colleagues and students from the Department of the Study of Religion have conducted every tenth year. The results can be found online at Center for Samtidsreligion.

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

89

8. The surveys and interviews are saved in a database and are available to any interested parties. 9. Some of the same material is used in a further article, not yet published: Fibiger Marianne and Jørn Borup, “Yoga and mindfulness as a fluctuating field,” Annual Review of  the  Sociology of  Religion, special issue on the Sociology of yoga, Meditation, and Asian Asceticism (forthcoming in 2023). 10. We conducted a survey in 2016 with 130 respondents, in addition to ten in-depth interviews with all the yoga instructors counting. In 2021 our primary focus was on how the yoga offerings of the 52 yoga groups represented themselves on their homepages, followed up with 15 individual interviews. 11. She was interviewed by MA student Nikolai Holme Hansen in relation to our mapping in 2016. 12. He was interviewed by MA student Nikolai Holme Hansen in relation to our mapping in 2016. 13. She was interviewed by MA student Nikolai Holme Hansen in relation to our mapping in 2016. 14. He was interviewed by MA student Nikolai Holme Hansen in relation to our mapping in 2016. 15. Mia Clausen offers various forms of yoga. In October 2022, she writes: “In recent years I have been doing a lot of travelling all over the world and found a great interest in yoga as a tool to navigate the body in this modern world of ours. I feel too many people live unhappy lives as they through society and lifestyle have been disconnected from the body. In my teaching I want to work with just that. To create a space on the mat where people can move back into their bodies” (Clausen 2022). 16. Svaropa instructor, interviewed by MA student Jeanette Mie Vindeløv. 17. This also makes it easier to make connections to other forms of practice such as beer yoga and wine yoga. These are now popular activities organized in relation to other kinds of activities and therefore not part of our research.

References Aabyhøj Yoga. 2022. https://aarhus-­yoga.dk/. Accessed 1 May 2022. Alter, Joseph S. 2004. Yoga in Modern India: The Body Between Science and Philosophy. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Arnth, Kristian. 2019. 5 gode råd fra yoga du kan tage med på banen. DGI, October 14, 2019. https://www.dgi.dk/fodbold/fodbold/artikler/5-­gode-­ raad-­fra-­yoga-­du-­kan-­tage-­med-­paa-­banen. Accessed 5 Apr 2023.

90 

M. Q. FIBIGER

Carrette, Jeremy R. 2000. Foucault and Religion: Spiritual Corporality and Political Spirituality. London: Routledge. Center for Samtidsreligion, Aarhus Universitet. https://samtidsreligion.au.dk/. Accessed 5 Apr 2023. Clausen, Mia. 2022. https://www.miaclausen.com/. Accessed 1 Oct 2022. De Michelis, Elizabeth. 2004. A History of Modern Yoga: Patanjali and Western Esotericism. New York: Continuum. ———. 2008. Modern Yoga: History and Forms. In Yoga in the Modern World: Contemporary Perspectives, ed. Mark Singleton and Jean Byrne, 17–35. London: Routledge. DGI (Danish Gymnastic Association). https://www.dgi.dk/fodbold/fodbold/ artikler/5-­gode-­raad-­fra-­yoga-­dukan-­tage-­med-­paa-­banen. Accessed October 22. Doniger, Wendy. 2009. The Hindus. An Alternative History. New  York: Penguin Books. Fibiger, Marianne 2020. Floating Hindu Tropes in European Culture and Languages. In Handbook of Hinduism in Europe, ed. Knut Jacobsen and Ferdinando Sardella, 764–775. Leiden: Brill. Fibiger, Marianne, and Jørn Borup. Forthcoming in 2023. Yoga and Mindfulness as a Fluctuating Field. In Annual Review of the Sociology of Religion. Leiden: Brill. Fitnessworld. 2023. https://fitnessworld.com/dk/gym-­classes/body. Accessed 5 Apr 2023. Foxen, Anya P. 2017. Biography of a Yogi. Paramahansa Yogananda & the Origins of Modern Yoga. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Goldberg, Elliott. 2018. The Path of Modern Yoga. The History of an Embodied Spiritual Practice. Rochester/Vermont/Toronto: Inner Traditions. Hauser, Beatrix. 2014. Yoga Traveling: Bodily Practice in Transcultural Perspective. New York: Springer International Publishing. Jacobsen, Knut A. 2006. Globalisert Yoga: Om Hvordan En Esoterisk Religiøs Lære for Asketer i India Ble et Verdensomspennende Sekulært Helse-, Trim- og Sportsfenomen. Norsk Teologisk Tidskrift 1: 3–17. Jain, Andrea. 2015. Selling Yoga. From Counterculture to Pop Culture. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Joga-Danmark. 2022. https://joga.dk. Accessed 17 Oct 2022. Jørgensen, Carsten René. 2002. Psykologien i Senmoderniteten. København: Hans Reitzels Forlag. Korsgaard, Ove. 2022. Kropskultur: Idræt, religion og askese fra oldtid til nutid. København: Gyldendal. Lerbech Pedersen, Karen. 2016. Ny tendens i kirken: Yoga med Jesus. Danmarks Radio, 7 May 2016. https://www.dr.dk/nyheder/kultur/tro/ny-­tendens-­i-­ kirken-­yoga-­med-­jesus. Accessed 21 Aug 2021.

  MODERN YOGA AND THE NORDIC BODY: BETWEEN AUTHENTICITY… 

91

Lønstrup, Vibe. 2021. Yoga som en del af gudstjenesten. Kristeligt Dagblad, 21 June 2021. ———. 2022. Præst holder yogagudstjeneste: Folk bliver mere modtagelige. Kristeligt Dagblad, 22 April 2022. Newcombe, Susanne. 2009. The Development of Modern Yoga: A Survey of the Field. Religion Compass 6: 986–1002. ———. 2020. Yoga in Europe. In Handbook of Hinduism in Europe. Vol I, ed. Knut A. Jacobsen and Ferdinand Sardella, 555–587. Leiden: Brill. Rosa, Hartmut. 2015. Social Acceleration: A New Theory of Modernity. Colombia: Colombia University Press. Singleton, Mark. 2010. Yoga Body: The Origins of Modern Posture Practice. Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press. Singleton, Mark, and Jean Byrne. 2008. Yoga in the Modern World: Contemporary Perspectives. New York: Routledge. Sonne, Katrine. 2016. Til yoga i Guds hus. Berlingske Tidende, 30 March 2016. https://www.berlingske.dk/det-­sunde-­liv/til-­yoga-­i-­guds-­hus. Accessed 5 Apr 2023. Statistics Denmark. 2015. https://www.dst.dk/da/presse/Pressemeddelelser/ 2015# Strauss, Sarah. 2002. Adapt, Adjust, Accommodate: The Production of Yoga in a Transnational World. History and Anthropology 3: 231–251. Taylor, Charles. 2007. A Secular Age. Harvard: Harvard University Press. Tsing, Anna Lowenhaupt. 2005. Friction. Princeton: Princeton University Press. White, David Gordon. 2012. Yoga in Practice. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Wilson, Brian C. 1998. From the Lexical to the Polythetic: A Brief History of the Definition of Religion. In What Is Religion? Origins, Definitions, and Explanations, ed. Thomas A.  Idinopulos and Brian C.  Wilson, 141–162. Leiden: Brill. Yoga Church Denmark. 2022. www.Yogakirke.dk. Accessed 5 Oct 2022.

Kirtan: Music, Emotion, and Belonging in Finnish Holistic Spirituality Tero Heinonen

Introduction In this chapter, I explore the practice of Kirtan in Finnish contemporary spirituality. Kirtan is the Hindu devotional practice that consists of the accompanied congregational singing of mantras in praise of God or guru. In the past two decades, it has changed in Finland from a collective Eastern religious practice with soteriological ends into a holistic spiritual technique oriented on the well-being goals of its individual practitioners. Kirtan has acquired in Finland a therapeutic ethos and is perceived as pathway to spiritual meaning and individual everyday and transcendent objectives. The core element of Kirtan is the singing of mantras, Hindu sacred syllables in Sanskrit associated with the Bhakti and the Tantric traditions of India. Its Finnish practitioners have experimented with replacing Kirtan’s

T. Heinonen (*) Faculty of Arts, Psychology and Theology, Åbo Akademi University, Turku, Finland e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_5

93

94 

T. HEINONEN

Hindu elements with those of other cultures and have come up with new forms and symbols according to their needs. The chapter is based on my fieldwork in Finland for the doctoral thesis in the Study of Religions. The fieldwork consisted of participant observation and 100 interviews of Finnish Kirtan practitioners. More than half of my research participants reported not being affiliated with religious or spiritual institutions. This chapter is based on the interviews with “spiritual but not religious” participants and their practice of Kirtan. In these interviews, Kirtan, instead of being aimed at praising and pleasing God, guru, or other devotees, acquired the purpose of achieving individual spiritual and well-being objectives. There are practitioners with different goals and levels of commitment to Kirtan. Kirtan in holistic spirituality does not have a canonical scripture for its practitioners to learn and internalize. This chapter aims to discuss why Kirtan, as a  collective musical practice, maintains a persistent role in Finland’s contemporary spirituality, which tends to emphasize the individual and diminish the doctrinal aspects. Secondly, emotions play a crucial role in Kirtan practitioners’ approach to spirituality and in shaping its “therapeutic” results. How does Kirtan inform the construction of meaning in holistic spirituality? My informants reported that Kirtan has positively contributed to their psychological well-being. In what manner is the “therapeutic” ethos realized in Kirtan? First, I explore Kirtan as a phenomenon in holistic spirituality, followed by a discussion of the experiences of participants. My approach to theory in this chapter is social-­ constructivist and based on the sociology of religion, perceiving Kirtans as interaction rituals as defined by Randall Collins (2004).

Background A growth in alternative spirituality in the Nordic countries since the 1970s has emphasized practices that borrow from a variety of cultural sources and have remained popular until the present. Simultaneously, trends of diversification, individualization, blending of cultural ideas, and detraditionalization are taking place in the Nordic countries (Furseth et al. 2017). At the same time, the number of people without religious affiliation has been growing in Finland (Nynäs et  al. 2015). Eastern practices have undergone a cultural and market-oriented process of “healthification,” represented by the “fuzzy” distinction between religion and contemporary spirituality (Borup 2017).

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

95

Spirituality can be defined as the identification, maintenance, and articulation of the sacred in terms of objects, feelings of devotion, persons, or concepts that are discoverable within and transcend the self (Hill et  al. 2000). Spirituality develops across the lifespan and helps the individual to discover or create new values so that secular ends, such as the search for personal meaning described in terms of emotions, beliefs, and behavior, become invested with sacred status (Pargament and Park 1997). Religion and spirituality inform meaning-making by permitting the use of symbolism to explain existential concerns and develop a coherent and sacred vision of reality. They provide a sense of purpose and can be helpful for the individual in coping with life’s difficulties (Kashdan and Nezlek 2012; Pargament and Park 1997). Spirituality, associated with subjective experience and inner discourse and understood in contrast to formal institutional religion, has emerged as a hybrid discourse constructed from alternative and popular sources (Pargament and Park 1997; Sutcliffe 2003). Large-scale social currents of eclecticism, post-institutionalism, and globalization have contributed to this change. They have led to “post-institutional” forms of religion and spirituality by reducing connections to traditional ways of believing and belonging. These forms are associated with individual cumulative searches for meaning, composite religious identities, doctrinal reduction, self-help, and emotions emphasized over rational thought (Hervieu-Léger 2006; Turner 2012). Emotions and feelings of interconnectedness are expressed in social contexts and characterized by participation to privatized and personalized expressions, including music, dance, and meditation (Zinnbauer et al. 1999). Holistic spirituality underscores individualism and a relationship with the divine conceived as the inner self (Knibbe 2012; Sutcliffe 2003). It advocates therapeutic procedures premised on the conviction that personal emotions are authoritative as an inner guide (Riis and Woodhead 2010). It constructs visions of sacred reality through individual practices (Aune 2020) and new rituals, in which symbols and practices from different cultural traditions are borrowed and combined to reflect individual life situations and problems (Fedele and Knibbe 2013; Magliocco 2014). What is deemed trustworthy is sought inside the individual, with the body understood as the path to authenticity and well-being. The practices associated with holistic spirituality often take shape in small groups that emphasize empowerment and authentic self-expression (Sointu and Woodhead 2008, 265–267).

96 

T. HEINONEN

Kirtan, as religious music, is a practice of the Bhakti traditions of India. In Bhakti, emotion, embodiment, and experience of the sensible presence of the divine during prayer and praise are focused on an intimate loving relationship with a theistically understood God in a spiritual fellowship with other devotees (Burchett 2019; Heiler 1932; Holdrege 2015; Weber 1958). Kirtan has, together with other practices, contributed to sustaining and transmitting the faith and sacred symbols of Bhakti traditions across generations (Heinonen 2015; Riis and Woodhead 2010). Modern forms of Kirtan, developed from Hindu Nām-Kı ̄rtan, which is call-and-response praise with mantras enabling individuals without education in classical Indian music to experience musical elation, include a popular style employing New Age, African, Latin American, and other features, and  is currently  being promoted by American and European singers in the West (Beck 2012). In the Ṛg-Veda, mantras were believed to be invested with the living presence of the gods and goddesses and at times directly identified with them (Holdrege 2015). The ritual forms, institutions, and cosmological conceptions of Tantra, another Indian tradition, were key elements in the social and political structures of early medieval India and persisted in Bhakti religions (Burchett 2019, 41). In Tantric thought, mantras were “the sonic form of deities,” conceptualized as “powerful forms of divinity embodied in speech, whose use can produce both soteriological and this-­ worldly or other-worldly supernatural goals” (Goodall and Isaacson 2016, 4). The mantra is the deity, believed to be at once conscious, ritualistic, and meditative (Alper 1989). Sacred sound is conceived as feminine power in all major divisions of Hinduism where Kirtan is rooted (Beck 1993). These cosmological assumptions remain part of Hindu Kirtan. Kirtan first came to Finland in the 1970s with the arrival of new religious movements and returning yoga teachers who proliferated Hindu Bhakti devotionalism in America and Europe (Beck 2012; Broo et  al. 2015; Singleton and Goldberg 2013). Today, Kirtan is a small but lively form of alternative spirituality in Finland, with the number of practitioners ranging from several hundred to a few thousand individuals annually. It has been practiced for decades in Bhakti movements in Finland, including Gauḍiya Vaiṣṇava groups and small religious groups of Hindu immigrants. Although many belong to a guru movement, an equal number of my informants renounced the guru institution and membership in religious or spiritual movements altogether.

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

97

Kirtan that is not associated with institutions fits the definition of holistic spirituality by Paul Heelas (2008). Kirtan in holistic spirituality is experiential in that experience is believed to transform the quality of one’s subjective life. It is expressive, enhancing the quality of personal relationships through creativity in the company of others. It is egalitarian in that practitioners express shared concern for well-being, recognize each person as their own spiritual authority, value emotions, and assert independence from religious doctrine. It is self-spiritual in sustaining and connecting with an “authentic” inner self. It is eclectic, selectively including fragments of cultures into producing new holistic forms. Kirtan is not concerned with soteriological ends but is this-worldly, a “spirituality of life” (Heelas 2008, 174). Its practitioners tend to be tolerant, often stating that “all religions are equally true” (Frisk and Nynäs 2012, 52). From my interviews emerges a description of local Finnish developments of Kirtan starting in the early 2000s when Kirtan, as the singing of Sanskrit mantras, was practiced in yoga movements, eco-spiritual communes, and neo-shamanic circles. It was soon influenced by cultural appropriation of Indian, “New Age,” and American indigenous cultures as a consequence of “mystical tourism” by Finnish “spiritual travelers” (Hill 2008; Rogers 2006; Tøllefsen 2021). After 2010, Kirtan’s popularity began to grow in Finland, with touring and recording bands of professional musicians and visiting foreign musicians. Since 2013, Kirtan has appeared in ceremonial contexts, where musical experience and expression are associated with themes of well-­ being and spirituality. Another trend is the appearance of gendered, mostly female-only Kirtans, after an increasing number of Finnish women have found alternatives to traditional Lutheranism from spirituality of Indian origin (Ahonen 2014). During the global COVID-19 pandemic, the practice of Kirtan diminished temporarily due to restrictions imposed on gatherings. Some began organizing online Kirtans, but these never reached the popularity of face-to-face events. My fieldwork consisted of interviews and participant observation. One  hundred practitioners of Kirtan were interviewed in Finland. The data was obtained from fifty “spiritual but not religious” research participants, who reported being unaffiliated with institutions. The interview questions were open ended, semi-structured, and descriptive, with interviews lasting  between 60 and 120  minutes. The material was analyzed following James Spradley’s Developmental Research Sequence, which

98 

T. HEINONEN

consisted of informant sampling, interviewing, transcribing, coding, and analysis (Spradley 1979). The transcribed interview material was coded and analyzed with the aid of computer-assisted qualitative data analysis software, with an inductive and iterative approach to methodology. The data are archived at the Cultural Sciences Archive Cultura at Åbo Akademi University. Each participant in the total sample had participated in Kirtan as call-and-response singing of mantras accompanied by musical instruments. In addition, the informants were committed  to the practice and were  often involved in organizing and leading Kirtan. The participants were contacted and informed after random and chain-referral sampling, both  online and offline, with permissions obtained in face-to-face situations and via e-mail. Most interviews were conducted online or as telephone interviews due to the strict limitations placed on fieldwork after the onset of the global COVID-19 pandemic.

Kirtan in Holistic Spirituality People typically came to Kirtan from teaching yoga; traveling in South and Southeast Asia; visiting one of Finland’s spiritual summer fairs; or wanting to learn a new instrument. The instruments used in Kirtan varied but typically included the acoustic guitar, harmonium, tabla, tanpura, and cymbals. Occasionally shakers, base, flutes, djembe, monochord, khol, piano, sitar, or the violin would be employed. Locations included yoga studios, domestic and other indoor locations, and the park, city streets, forests, and other outside locations in the summertime. People preferred being seated in closed circles together with the leader and musicians. The circle was reported as the best seating formation because of clear visibility of the others in close proximity. Leaders often prepared an altar with crystals, candles, flowers, fruits, and incense. Even a simple and improvised altar was believed to bring about harmonizing and focusing effects. Some organizers installed flower mandalas for an aesthetic effect and to help focus the mind. A good Kirtan leader was described as trustworthy, not serving their own ego but in the service of the practice. They had a clear view of collective practice and were able to create a safe space for everyone to express their “individual voice.” The ideal leader respected different traditions and engaged people in singing together. Only a few rules were to be followed, concerning the boundaries of a safe space. Organizers had noticed that many were struggling with psychological issues and hoped that people

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

99

would consider their mental health prior to participating. Contemporary culture was perceived as “overly performance-oriented.” Kirtan was believed to bring about a sense of acceptance and allow one to express oneself without the stress of having to perform. Kirtan was an inclusive practice for everyone, regardless of age, gender identity, or ethnic background. It was a way to relax and meditate, to have a break from everyday life. The participants wanted an opportunity to express themselves in safe space created with music. Nearly half of my informants were convinced that Finnish words and verses from the national epic Kalevala had a special “compatibility” for Finns because the words were believed to possess particular utility and functionality similar to Sanskrit mantras. The need for singing mantras in one’s own language was a fairly recent trend. Other changes were the increasingly popular ceremonial therapies and the growth in the number and size of holistic spiritual summer fairs. What Jonathan Turner calls primary emotions (happiness, anger, fear, and sadness), along with their combinations (e.g., blissfulness, excitement, boredom, anxiety) (Turner 2007, 3), were common in Kirtans. Informants reported emotions that were experienced as positive, such as joy, grief, passion, devotion, or gratitude; and emotions perceived as negative, such as boredom, anxiety, anger, pain, aggression, frustration, panic, and even vengefulness. Negative emotions were interpreted as “unfinished emotional processes” that should be “consciously or intuitively processed” during Kirtans. The feeling of safety from “outsiders” was important in working with difficult emotions that were believed to have become “stuck in one’s body.” Kirtan organizers had integrated emotion-sharing circles into their Kirtans. These were controlled situations where everyone got a designated time to talk about their thoughts and feelings. Since 2013,  Kirtan had become integrated into cacao ceremony, a form of therapeutic ceremonial practice of holistic spirituality, where ritually prepared organic cacao imported from Guatemala, Peru, or Ecuador was enjoyed while seated in a circle. Ceremonial cacao was believed to have been collected with connection to the plant spirit of cacao, which was believed to answer prayers and chants. Its harvesting, accompanied by the singing of sacred chants, was to guarantee that the spirit would stay in the cacao mass during its journey to Europe and remain “willing” to aid people in the Nordic countries in facilitating their spiritual ceremonies. Cacao ceremonies were organized around themes (e.g., “healing of the inner child”). Techniques included silent meditation, vocal exercises,

100 

T. HEINONEN

poetry writing, relaxation, and breathing exercises. Expressive art in the form of dancing and painting were associated with holistic themes. Kirtan was an important element in many ceremonies and was considered useful as a technique for managing one’s emotions. Emotions were not to be held back but felt “through the mantras” as “purifiers of the emotional level.” Kirtan informs spiritual meanings by providing practitioners with conceptual elements about the sacred, connected with Tantric Hinduism. In terms of structure, a worldview emerges, where the “divine” in one’s “inner self” and in the Universe is transcendent to consciousness. Sound is believed to be one of the levels on which the Universe operates, and in which mantras are part of “the natural order.” In terms of function, when uttered in a certain sequence, the syllables are believed to act as “energy keys” providing access to the mantra’s deity. Intent emerged as a core concept in achieving Kirtan’s therapeutic goals. Intent did not have to be vocalized and could be related to everyday affairs. It was compared to “placing an order.” This could mean recognizing opportunities to meditate, investigating layers of the inner self with song, or praying for healing. It could be directed at assisting a friend or family member or seeking help with one’s spiritual life. Mantras were understood in terms of a Tantric-influenced belief system. They were said to have become “repositories of energy” through centuries of singing and recital. Mantras were often described in modern Western technical terms as “fields” with a “frequency.” It was thought possible to connect with them because so much “energy” had been “charged” into the mantras that they had “a consciousness.” By connecting with the energy provided by collective singing and one’s intent, the individual was believed to be able to call different qualities represented by the mantra’s deity into his or her personality. The gods and goddesses associated with mantras were believed by many of my informants to be aspects of their inner selves. They were accepting and taking roles that were emotionally analogous to their own needs. These were often described in impersonal terms as archetypes or symbols representing aspects of their inner self. Kirtan was thought to create a “flow of energy” passing through participants, who “attuned” to it and received qualities associated with the mantra’s deity. One can say that the deity was, in emotional terms, analogous to the practitioner’s goals. For instance, women in need of help getting out of a “toxic relationship” would  pray for help by singing the

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

101

mantras of the goddess Kali. The “flow of energy” was thought to become “better” toward the end of the Kirtan, especially in the company of expressive participants whose presence was believed to “elevate the energies.”

Kirtan’s Enduring Appeal Kirtan played a significant role in the lives of my research participants, who associated Kirtan with their psychological well-being. The social element of Kirtan was associated with having a good time together, meeting friends while sharing a spiritually significant activity. Kirtans were thought to alleviate the impact of urban isolation, a pressing issue widely experienced within  Finnish society. The lives of those identifying as  “spiritual but not religious” were perceived to lack social connection and a sense of community, an issue that Kirtan was believed to address. Individuals had different expectations: relaxation; experiencing and expressing positive emotions; achieving tranquility and meditative states; finding relief from stress; finding new connections; and completing the “intuitive processing” of problematic emotions. Some expected specific positive emotions related to their private spiritual goals and expectations. Kirtan was believed to provide individual rewards, such as increased focus; elevated mood; the ability to share one’s feelings; a sense of community belonging; inner peace; balance in one’s day-to-day affairs; finding one’s own voice; becoming open to the needs of others; getting in touch with “one’s own truth”; sensing the Sacred; discovering a relationship with mantras and deities; obtaining new musical skills; and finding spiritual guidance. These were also the primary reasons for taking to organizing Kirtans. Kirtans often had either a peaceful and meditative or ecstatic and jubilant atmosphere, both of which were described as elevating the overall mood in the group. As emotions emerged, people would cry or get excited, stand up, dance, and move about. Kirtan provided an opportunity to express both positive and negative emotions with one’s body. It was also thought to be helpful by virtue of  keeping the mind focused without wandering thoughts that often disturbed silent meditation. Kirtan provided an area that was delimited for self-help in the form of emotional regulation. It was about the creation of a safe space in which practitioners would have an opportunity to be in touch with themselves and others, listen to their body, become aware of their spiritual growth, and make spirituality part of everyday life. “Safe spaces” were safe because

102 

T. HEINONEN

they were separated from disturbances and those who did not participate. Kirtans were deemed successful when there was a positive mood, concentration on the “united voice” of participants, peacefulness, and the engagement of everyone in making music together. It was reported that in every Kirtan, the “accumulated energy of all the previous Kirtans” was “re-­activated.” People were encouraged but not pressed into proximity with each other. “Energy” was said to increase with tempo, proportionate in intensity to the number of people present and “in sync” with each other. The informants reported feeling “collective expansion of awareness” shared among participants “when everyone was in synchrony at the same time,” and “oceanic feelings of deep motherly love” prevailed. Time and place were forgotten. There was a lack of interest for any sort of “performing.” As authenticity is a core value of holistic spirituality, the sound of mantras was believed to emerge from “a genuine source within oneself.” Ecstasy was referred to as “a state of natural high,” filled with positive emotion, memorable but difficult to put into words. Ecstatic experiences were to some degree expected, but the search for peak experiences was perceived as entertainment that could motivate beginners but could easily develop into addiction. A special kind of ecstasy called loving-energy was understood as both personal and shared. Experienced through “opening of hearts” as emotion of joy, harmony, and unity caused by everyone engaged in singing together “in a state of loving awareness,” Kirtan left people with “good feelings of loving and of being loved.” With themes related to womanhood, gendered Kirtans were reported to be intimate and oriented towards artistic expression. Their structure was ceremonial, which made them longer than typical Kirtans and supported their therapeutic goals. Their purpose was to discover and examine together “the ways of experiencing womanhood.” The organizers combined Kirtan with a gendered approach consisting of meditation, drinking cacao, painting, writing, dancing, and other body-oriented practices, as well as sharing emotions in sharing circles. While statements for non-­ cisgender acceptance were prevalent, a question that remained unanswered was whether transgender individuals should take part in women-only events. Some felt that, for instance, a body perceived as male by other participants excluded transgender individuals from shared examination of womanhood.

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

103

Discussion Collective emotion has been defined as “synchronous convergence in affective responding across individuals towards a specific event or object” (Von Scheve and Ismer 2013, 406). Shared cognitive appraisal structures, group-specific norms and practices, and the social sharing of emotions contribute to the emergence of collective emotion among individuals, requiring additionally emotional contagion between individuals (Hatfield et al. 1993), groups, and collectives (Von Scheve and Ismer 2013). Randall Collins (2004) has provided the ingredients to what Émile Durkheim called collective effervescence (Durkheim 1915): shared emotional experiences, mutual focus of attention on a joint activity, barriers to outsiders, bodily co-presence, and rhythmic entrainment. These are the  ritual ingredients in Collins’ mutual-focus/emotional-entrainment model of interaction ritual chains (Collins 2004). This theory focuses on interactions on the face-to-face level and implies the effects of emotional energy from earlier participation in interaction rituals. What my informants called experiences of unity and happiness, “an opening of hearts,” and a flow of loving-energy, are likely an experience of what Collins and Durkheim call collective effervescence. Collective effervescence is defined by Collins as “the rhythmic entrainment of participants into a mood that feels stronger than any of them individually, and carries them along as if under a force from outside” (Collins 2014, 299). The experience is often described in terms of “being energized” or “spirit-­ filled” and has four outcomes: social solidarity, sacred objects becoming symbols of social relationships, change in the individual level of emotional energy, and shared standards of morality (Collins 2004, 2014; Draper 2019; Durkheim 1915). A majority of informants reported that the core activity of “a successful Kirtan experience” was “being intensively engaged in Kirtan together.” The mutual attention to a joint task is sustained by the face-to-face circle of contributors engrossed in the activity, with a boundary raised between the outer world and the mutual activity in the enclosed space, the function of which is to maximize a sense of euphoria (Goffman 1961). An intensive intersubjective experience manifests in singing, embodied emotion, joint activity, and shared goals, and leads to merged intersubjectivity that will be experienced with music as “unity” (Rabinowich et al. 2012). Longer rituals may be associated with higher levels of effervescence (Draper 2014, 2019). This could explain the ecstasy reported by

104 

T. HEINONEN

informants who took part in 12-hour Kirtans, which they described as producing “incredibly deep spiritual states.” Ceremonies that incorporated Kirtan lasted between four and six hours and featured various ways of engaging the attention of the gathered participants. The longer time people spend physically co-present with barriers to outsiders, and the longer time they focus their attention by gestures and sounds, the more real symbols and meanings become, and the greater the resulting interpersonal attachment and sense of community belonging becomes (Draper 2019). The element that was overwhelmingly present in “successful” Kirtans was an experience of “energy” associated with “collective feelings of elevation,” understood by the informants as emerging from the Kirtan participants themselves when they were intensively engaged in singing together. Other elements were “a peaceful or meditative atmosphere,” which enabled people to turn inward and connect with their authentic, inner selves; and a communal feeling of “unity and togetherness” that was experienced through the music. The consequences of a successful Kirtan were “uplifting emotions that carried one over the mundane worries of everyday life”; help reportedly acquired for “processing” difficult emotions; and the feeling of peace in a safe space. Interaction ritual theory predicts the ritual “success” or “failure” of interactions. The emergence of collective effervescence creates social solidarity; emotional energy in the form of elation; enthusiasm; individual confidence; and symbols that represent the participants  and evoke their respect (Collins 2004). Collective effervescence is the phenomenon “through which collective representations are made sacred” (Draper 2019). Kirtans of holistic spirituality tend to have more “toned-down” emotionality compared to religious Kirtans (Broo et al. 2015). Interaction ritual theory may offer an explanation for this phenomenon: Kirtans of holistic spirituality are characterized by lower barriers to outsiders, lower attendance rates, and lower levels of social solidarity than religious movements. Although my informants often stated that there were no “failed” Kirtans, “unsuccessful” Kirtans may demonstrate how low levels of collective effervescence function in holistic spirituality. Based on my interview material, Kirtans described as “unsuccessful” tended to be characterized by minimal shared entrainment or emotional contagion and little respect for symbols of the sacred, including mantras. In failed interaction rituals, a sense of affirmation or effect on one’s identity may be replaced by feelings of intense boredom (Collins 2004). Many informants

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

105

described Kirtans they simply hoped to end. Other causes for failure of Kirtans to produce collective effervescence included technical problems; the leaders’ lack of musicality; unplanned, disrespectful, or self-serving behavior; constant movement in and out of the “safe space”; discrimination; unequal distribution of emotional energy; and the lack of what Draper calls “mini-interaction rituals” (Draper 2019), such as socializing together after the Kirtan. It has been shown that repeated positive emotions build psychological resiliency and trigger “upward spirals” toward improved emotional well-­ being (Fredrickson 2001). Kirtan was associated with repeated experiences of positive emotions Recurring practice of Kirtan was reported to be associated with feelings of well-being and experiences of managing one’s negative emotions. Repeated successful experiences that are felt as improved well-being may have secured Kirtan’s place as Eastern technique within Western alternative wellness therapy discourses (Antony 2016). Music arouses not only individual emotions but also emotions on the interpersonal level of collective emotion (Juslin 2019, 244), when interpersonal processes trigger emotions in recurrent interactions. Emotion has been defined in relation to music as an enactment and a way of being, where music-making and music listening, emotion, dancing, and chanting of mantras are all aspects of a process in which participants enact a particular reality with norms and expectations (Becker 2001, 148–149). Scott Draper argues that chanting of mantras results in an invigorating group experience because it activates higher barriers to outsiders and higher effervescence; it requires one to verbalize foreign symbolism; it  requires rhythmic entrainment and mutual monitoring that increase intersubjectivity; and it facilitates a mutual focus of attention (Draper 2019). In addition to its invigorating social effects, Kirtan represents strong musical experiences with spiritual, perceptual, cognitive, emotional, bodily, and personal associations. For some research participants, Kirtan offered musical peak experiences, a “rare delicacy” that they longed to relive. In musical peak experiences there is total absorption and attention; a special “flavour” of awe or reverence; a complete loss of fear or anxiety; disorientation of time and space; transcendence of ego; and identification of the perceiver with the perceived (Gabrielsson 2010). Based on the interview material, Kirtans are capable of eliciting strong experiences with music, including merged intersubjectivity that is experienced as “union with others” (Rabinowich et al. 2012). Patrik Juslin suggests that during live music activities of people with shared interests and

106 

T. HEINONEN

goals, the participants often have immersive experiences with group entrainment and social contagion (Juslin 2019, 389). The intentions of participants are important in obtaining strong emotional effects with music (Sloboda and Juslin 2010). Expectations also play a central role in Kirtan experiences. One of Kirtan’s functions that is experienced by its contemporary practitioners as therapeutic appears to be emotion regulation, which refers to the attempt to influence the shaping of emotions one has and the way one expresses them (Gross 1999). Music is commonly used as a tool to regulate emotions toward life events; to construct self-identity; to enhance desired and reduce undesired bodily and feeling states; and to create and maintain individual and shared emotions (DeNora 2001; Juslin 2019). Emotion regulation in Kirtans of holistic spirituality may be aimed at what Richard Lazarus calls emotion-focused coping, achieved through regulating the emotions tied to a stressful life situation. Such reappraisals of emotion give them new relational meanings and generate cognitive and motivational processes that influence and change the meanings constructed from the stressful events (Lazarus 1999). They can be understood as attempts to “recodify” situations that act upon previous interpretations that gave rise to the initial stressful emotion and can change its meaning permanently for the individual (Von Scheve 2013). Emotional interactions also play a role on the cultural level. Not only will one hear music and singing in Kirtan, but one takes part in discussion, teaching, sharing, and personal connection. Expectations associated with what Jonathan Turner (2007) calls human transactional needs and the ways of behaving that call for positive responses from others are more difficult to know in groups that are not embedded in larger social units (Turner 2007, 87, 176). The less embedded an encounter is in social structures, the less clear are expectations and the more ambiguous and diffuse the culture. In formulating his sociological theory of emotion, Turner argues that culture must be constantly assembled in encounters, and when there is no social structure to “normatize” or bring its symbols, norms, values, and ideologies into the encounter, culture is assembled in face-to-face interactions (Turner 2007, 161, 176). Transactional needs are activated by directing the flow of interactions in each face-to-face encounter. One needs to verify one’s self and identity; to sense group inclusion in the ongoing interpersonal flow; to achieve a sense of trust from others; to receive positive exchange payoffs; and to achieve a sense of intersubjectivity and facticity (Turner 2007, 70, 102).

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

107

Transactional needs may be easier to satisfy in an encounter that is not embedded in a social structure, when everyone is of the same gender, ethnic background, or social class. The ways in which people react and interact emotionally are different in an encounter composed entirely of men or women, of one ethnic group, or of one social class than those involving diverse genders, ethnics, or classes (Turner 2007, 80). Gendered Kirtans may be a way to “boost” the “interpersonal work” of the face-to-face encounter to meet the transactional needs of participants more fully and assemble a shared spiritual culture, whether inspired by Hindu, Tantra, or other traditions. According to Houtman and Aupers (2007), “Post-Christian spirituality” is socially constructed, with a conception of the self being based on the epistemological premise that intuition or “inner voice” is the vehicle of truth instead of faith or reason. The sacred remains, but has lost its transcendent character and become part of the “dogma of self-­ spirituality,” that the sacred is immanent and resides in the deeper parts of the self (Houtman and Aupers 2007). Based on my material, I argue that Kirtans of contemporary spirituality are encounters where holistic spiritual culture is assembled in emotional and expressive face-to-face interactions.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries Finnish practitioners in the holistic spiritual milieu develop Kirtan and other techniques by appropriating cultural elements. Cultural appropriation involves “the use of a culture’s symbols, artifacts, genres, rituals, or technologies by members of another culture,” in a process where such elements are taken and “made one’s own” (Rogers 2006, 474–475). Eastern philosophy, religious beliefs, cosmological assumptions, metaphysical ideas about the sacred, devotional artifacts, and musical elements are often learned orally from Kirtan leaders or from “New Age” literature, selectively combined and given new expressions. Accessibility of Kirtan for practitioners emerged as a theme in my interview material. During Kirtans, participants were usually given song lyrics on paper; they could request songs in Finnish, bring their own instruments, or create their own “mantras.” Mary Grace Antony (2016) argues that the combination of Western and Eastern ideological

108 

T. HEINONEN

frameworks can be understood in terms of “strategic reframing aimed to minimize the perceived foreignness” (Antony 2016, 286) and to increase its accessibility for non-Hindu practitioners; and the expectations to have one’s requests accommodated may indicate that Kirtan is “ideologically signified within individualistic structures that privilege a consumerist stance” (Antony 2016, 298). The  Finnish Kirtan practitioners that I interviewed  were often uncomfortable with collective Eastern power-­ asymmetries (e.g., the traditional Guru–disciple institution). The reported results of Kirtan stress the management of individual emotions and experiencing transformative collective emotion. My findings show that strong emotional experiences arise collectively in Kirtan and are brought to inform individual spiritual meanings. Based on my findings, I understand Kirtan to be a form of interaction ritual chains, where the bodily co-presence of participants in close proximity with each other, borders to the outside world, task jointness with a mutual focus of attention, shared emotional mood, and rhythmic entrainment produce collective effervescence and long-lasting emotional energy that is carried over to other situations in the participants’ lives, often long after the Kirtan is over (Collins 2004; Draper 2019). It appears that an important reason behind Kirtan’s sustained popularity and continued appeal as a  collective practice among individualized practices of contemporary spirituality lies in its ability to evoke and experience strong individual and collective emotions through intersubjectivity and music. Repeatedly  emerging collective effervescence generated through recurrent interaction rituals has powerful individual effects for those committed to Kirtans and brings them back to practicing time and again. In discussing how Kirtan informs meaning-making in Finnish holistic spirituality, I argue that in addition to seeking experiences with therapeutic aspects and gatherings capable of producing collective emotion and strong experiences with music, participants come to expect Kirtan to support their individual goals. Its positive emotional effects are partly responsible for this expectation. Although emotional experiences were given new spiritual meanings, my research participants often learned from others the meanings associated with Eastern symbols, narratives, and concepts. While they associated the singing of mantras with Hindu deities, I understand them to be religious roles acquired orally from other practitioners and from literature, roles that became associated with the singing of mantras and were emotionally analogous to their individual needs. The learning of

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

109

Eastern concepts was thought to deepen or enrich meaning-making in holistic spirituality, but did not necessarily lead the practitioners to adopt Hindu religious concepts or rituals into their lives. In answering the question of the function of Kirtan’s therapeutic purposes in holistic spirituality, it should be pointed out that during the interviews, loneliness and isolation were perceived as serious problems in contemporary Finnish society. Kirtan was believed to alleviate these societal problems by bringing people together and allowing them to “discover creativity and joy together.” Kirtan was perceived as an ideal way to connect with others in a “respectful and beautiful manner” and to feel social connection and community belonging without the often unhealthy elements associated with modern societies. Kirtan acted as a “therapeutic tool” for managing negative emotions and evoking positive moods, while improving one’s holistic well-being. The collective emotion that emerged from Kirtan would “convert” emotions into shared positive moods. Embodied-relational and artistic-somatic techniques, such as singing, dance, verbal sharing, painting, writing poetry, sound healing, and breathing exercises were practiced in the context of Kirtan. My research participants found in Kirtan a practice easily adapted to contemporary values of modern, secular, and individualized Nordic societies; it was an empathetic practice, capable of evoking individual and shared positive emotions, and perceived as beneficial for everyone’s well-­ being, regardless of their musical skills or personal history. The case of Kirtan illustrates how spiritual practitioners have taken to an Eastern religious practice for the purpose of achieving contemporary individual goals associated with holistic spiritual values, norms, emotions, and ideologies. In providing tools for well-being to its “spiritual but not religious” practitioners, Kirtan has joined other cultural practices appropriated and combined into holistic spirituality (Hill 2008; Rogers 2006). In the Finnish spiritual milieu, these elements are actively incorporated into a landscape  of gradually changing practices, with themes such as nature, ancestry, past generations, and national identity shaping the practice in a way that resonates with the importance of these themes to contemporary Finnish people. Kirtan is a way for individuals to discover communal ways to support and enliven their spiritual lives with others while allowing themselves to avoid committing to Eastern religious power-asymmetries that they experience as incompatible with their individualistic, subjective, and liberal values. On the other hand, Kirtan can be perceived as an example of how

110 

T. HEINONEN

religion and spirituality are never either something totally individualistic and private or entirely communal (Pessi and Jeldtoft 2012). Kirtan aids in the discovery of what the individual perceives as “the Sacred” through the collective emotion that arises with musical expression in the company of others. While the sacred is often perceived  as  an “authentic innerexpression” under the right circumstances, the community, as something larger than oneself, can easily be influenced by more familiar national symbols, ancestors, ways of life, and features of local nature, such as lakes, fells, and forests. Although there is still a sense of “mystical India” and a certain threshold for beginners to enter the singing of Sanskrit mantras or hymns, Kirtan is becoming less of a marginal practice and more “mainstream” within the Finnish contemporary spirituality. It is present at holistic spiritual summer festivals which gather large numbers of visitors. This also changes its characteristics. Practitioners frequently wish for easier and more relatable ways to participate. This implies that Kirtan in the Nordic countries will gradually change in holistic spiritualities, where beliefs in mantras and Hindu deities diminish and become replaced by local, more relatable, social features. It may retain its Eastern character in religious movements that emphasize it as sacred and eternal sadhana or spiritual  practice, a lifeline for the religious  devotee who through Kirtan establishes and sustains personal relationships with God and guru. Regarding the belief of practitioners in Hindu deities that are so closely associated with mantras, I find in Kirtan a similarity to Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen’s findings on Nordic yoga practitioners’ perspectives on spirituality. For many Kirtan practitioners, the devotion to Hindu gods and goddesses as entities is no longer the primary focus, but rather the focus is on the effect the technique has on practitioners (Tøllefsen 2021). In addition to differences in ritual contexts and meanings, the boundaries between practicing in the religious, therapeutic, and commercial arenas are fluid, with people moving between them and assuming different roles and exhibiting different degrees of commitment (Plank 2015). In the case of Kirtan, instead of practitioners easing away from religious elements, they sometimes move the other way: visiting religious temples, observing religious fasting, going to learn a traditional Indian instrument, learning religious rituals, finding a guru, or joining a religious movement. Similar to Yoga or Mindfulness, Kirtan appears to be an example of an Eastern Practice that is still on the move from an Eastern religious sphere toward a Western secular one (Åkerbäck 2015). Although there is

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

111

freedom of religion in the Nordic countries, societal and religious developments in the Nordic countries have often been observed  within the context of the larger majority religion. Interviewing individual practitioners represented, for me, an approach on the microlevel, where it is possible to research how people make sense of their spirituality in terms of their individual experience (Pessi and Jeldtoft 2012). Kirtan practice began in Finland with Eastern new religious movements fifty years ago. It has become part of eco-spirituality (e.g., in Nordic Ting meets), acquired animistic features, and incorporated elements from local culture. Regardless of its newly acquired forms, the musical culture that has formed around Kirtan is held in high esteem by its practitioners. For them, it is an important social and cultural activity, a source of joy and meaning, and a way to serve others by helping them reach their destination. Almost all of my participants wished for Kirtans to become more popular in Finland. I was told that Kirtan is not quite as popular in Finland than in the other Nordic countries. The global situation was also reflected in the interviews. Amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, several new Kirtan groups had been  established. This was a perceived as a  time of crises, including  climate change and vaccination conspiracy theories, along with  societal problems characteristic of  modern societies. It was  a period when Kirtan was said to be especially welcome. With decline in attendance for the Lutheran Church, new global crises looming on the horizon, stressful urban lifestyles, social anxiety, and experiences of meaninglessness and isolation, it does not appear that Kirtan’s popularity in the Nordic countries will diminish in the near future.

References Ahonen, Johanna. 2014. Finnish Women’s Turn Toward India. Negotiations Between Lutheran Christianity and Indian Spirituality. In Finnish Women Making Religion: Between Ancestors and Angels, ed. Terhi Utriainen and Päivi Salmesvuori, 217–235. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Åkerbäck, Peter. 2015. The Spiritual Revolution, the Swedish Way. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James R.  Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 343–358. Leiden: Brill. Alper, Harvey P. 1989. A Working Bibliography for the Study of Mantras. In Understanding Mantras, ed. Harvey P.  Alper, 327–443. New  York: State University of New York.

112 

T. HEINONEN

Antony, Mary Grace. 2016. Tailoring Nirvana: Appropriating Yoga, Resignification and Instructional Challenges. International Journal of Media and Cultural Politics 3: 283–303. Aune, Kristin. 2020. Feminist Spirituality as Lived Religion: How UK Feminists Forge Religio-Spiritual Lives. In Secular Societies, Spiritual Selves? The Gendered Triangle of Religion, Secularity and Spirituality, ed. Anna Fedele and Kim E. Knibbe, 30–50. London: Routledge. Beck, Guy L. 1993. Sonic Theology. Hinduism and Sacred Sound. Columbia: University of South Carolina. ———. 2012. Kı ̄rtan and Bhajan. In Brill’s Encyclopedia of Hinduism, ed. Knut A. Jacobsen et al., 585–598. Leiden: Brill. Becker, Judith. 2001. Anthropological Perspectives on Music and Emotion. In Music and Emotion. Theory and Research, ed. Patrik N.  Juslin and John A. Sloboda, 135–160. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Borup, Jørn. 2017. Pizza, Curry, Skyr and Whirlpool Effects: Religious Circulations Between East and West. In Eastspirit: Transnational Spirituality and Religious Circulation in East and West, ed. Jørn Borup and Marianne C.  Qvortrup Fibiger, 13–35. Leiden: Brill. Broo, Måns, Marcus Moberg, Terhi Utriainen, and Tommy Ramstedt. 2015. Diversification, Main-Streaming, Commercialization, and Domestication— New Religious Movements and Trends in Finland. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James R.  Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 141–157. Leiden: Brill. Burchett, Patton. 2019. A Genealogy of Devotion: Bhakti, Tantra, Yoga, and Sufism in North India. New York: Columbia University Press. Collins, Randall. 2004. Interaction Ritual Chains. Princeton: Princeton University Press. ———. 2014. Interaction Ritual Chains and Collective Effervescence. In Collective Emotions: Perspectives from Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology, ed. Christian von Scheve and Mikko Salmela, 299–311. Oxford: Oxford University Press. DeNora, Tia. 2001. Aesthetic Agency and Musical Practice: New Directions in the Sociology of Music and Emotion. In Music and Emotion. Theory and Research, ed. Patrik N.  Juslin and John A.  Sloboda, 161–180. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Draper, Scott. 2014. Effervescence and Solidarity in Religious Organizations. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 53: 229–248. ———. 2019. Religious Interaction Ritual. The Microsociology of the Spirit. Lanham: Lexington Books. Durkheim, Émile. 1915. The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life. London: George Allen & Unwin. Fedele, Anna, and Kim E.  Knibbe. 2013. Introduction: Gender and Power in Contemporary Spirituality. In Gender and Power in Contemporary Spirituality:

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

113

Ethnographic Approaches, ed. Anna Fedele and Kim E. Knibbe, 1–27. New York: Routledge. Fredrickson, Barbara L. 2001. The Role of Positive Emotions in Positive Psychology: The Broaden-and-Build Theory of Positive Emotions. American Psychologist 3: 218–226. Frisk, Liselotte, and Peter Nynäs. 2012. Characteristics of Contemporary Religious Change: Globalization, Neoliberalism, and Interpretative Tendencies. In ­Post-­Secular Society, ed. Peter Nynäs, Mika Lassander, and Terhi Utriainen, 47–70. New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers. Furseth, Inger, Lars Ahlin, Kimmo Ketola, Annette Leis-Peters, Pål Repstad, and Bjarni Randver Sigurvinsson. 2017. Changing Religious Landscapes in the Nordic Countries. In Religious Complexity in the Public Sphere: Comparing Nordic Countries, ed. Inger Furseth, 31–80. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. Gabrielsson, Alf. 2010. Strong Experiences with Music. In Handbook of Music and Emotion: Theory, Research, Applications, ed. Patrik N.  Juslin and John A. Sloboda, 547–574. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Goffman, Erving. 1961. Encounters. Two Studies in the Sociology of Interaction. Indianapolis: The Bobbs-Merrill Company. Goodall, Dominic, and Harunaga Isaacson. 2016. On the Shared “Ritual Syntax” of the Early Tantric Traditions. In Tantric Studies: Fruits of a Franco-German Project on Early Tantra, ed. Dominic Goodall and Harunaga Isaacson, 1–76. Pondichéry: Institut Français de Pondichéry. Gross, James J. 1999. Emotion and Emotion Regulation. In The Handbook of Personality. Theory and Research, ed. Lawrence A. Pervin and Oliver P. John, 525–552. New York: Guilford. Hatfield, Elaine, John T.  Cacioppo, and Richard L.  Rapson. 1993. Emotional Contagion. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Heelas, Paul. 2008. Spiritualities of Life. New Age Romanticism and Consumptive Capitalism. Malden/Oxford: Blackwell. Heiler, Friedrich. 1932. Prayer. A Study in the History and Psychology of Religion. London: Oxford University Press. Heinonen, Tero. 2015. “Drops of Nectar Falling from the White Full Moon”: Transmission of Ecstasy in Vaisṇ ̣ava Bhakti. Master’s thesis. University of Helsinki. Hervieu-Léger, Danièle. 2006. In Search of Certainties: The Paradoxes of Religiosity in Societies of High Modernity. Hedgehog Review 1–2: 59–68. Hill, Michael. 2008. Inca of the Blood, Inca of the Soul: Embodiment, Emotion, and Racialization in the Peruvian Mystical Tourist Industry. Journal of the American Academy of Religion 2: 251–279. Hill, Peter C., Kenneth I.I. Pargament, Ralph W. Hood Jr., Michael E. McCullough, James P. Swyers, David B. Larson, and Brian J. Zinnbauer. 2000. Conceptualizing

114 

T. HEINONEN

Religion and Spirituality: Points of Commonality, Points of Departure. Journal for the Theory of Social Behaviour 1: 51–77. Holdrege, Barbara A. 2015. Bhakti and Embodiment: Fashioning Divine Bodies and Devotional Bodies in Kṛsṇ ̣a Bhakti. Abingdon: Routledge. Houtman, Dick, and Stef Aupers. 2007. The Spiritual Turn and the Decline of Tradition: The Spread of Post-Christian Spirituality in 14 Western Countries, 1981–2000. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 46: 305–320. Juslin, Patrik N. 2019. Musical Emotions Explained: Unlocking the Secrets of Musical Affect. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kashdan, Todd B., and John B.  Nezlek. 2012. Whether, When, and How Is Spirituality Related to Well-Being? Moving Beyond Single Occasion Questionnaires to Understanding Daily Process. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 11: 1523–1535. Knibbe, Kim E. 2012. Obscuring the Role of Power and Gender in Contemporary Spiritualities. In Gender and Power in Contemporary Spirituality: Ethnographic Approaches, ed. Anna Fedele and Kim E.  Knibbe, 179–194. New  York: Routledge. Lazarus, Richard S. 1999. Stress and Emotion: A New Synthesis. London: Free Association Books. Magliocco, Sabina. 2014. Introduction: Ritual Creativity, Emotions and the Body. Journal of Ritual Studies 28 (2): 1–8. http://www.jstor.org/stable/ 44368901. Nynäs, Peter, Ruth Illman, and Tuomas Martikainen. 2015. Rethinking the Place of Religion in Finland. In On the Outskirts of ‘the Church’: Diversities, Fluidities and New Spaces in Contemporary Religion, ed. Peter Nynäs, Ruth Illman, and Tuomas Martikainen, 11–28. Zürich: LIT-Verlag. Pargament, Kenneth I., and Crystal L.  Park. 1997. In Times of Stress: The Religion-Coping Connection. In The Psychology of Religion: Theoretical Approaches, ed. Bernard Spilka and Daniel N.  McIntosh, 43–53. Denver: Westview Press. Pessi, Anne Birgitta, and Nadia Jeldtoft. 2012. Authenticity Matters: Reflections on Lutheran and Muslim Perspectives on Individual Religiosity in Post-­ Secularity. In Post-Secular Society, ed. Peter Nynäs, Mika Lassander, and Terhi Utriainen, 157–186. New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers. Plank, Katarina. 2015. Mindfulness i svenska kontexter. Religionsvidenskabeligt Tidsskrift 61: 35–54. Rabinowich, Tal-Chen, Ian Cross, and Pamela Burnard. 2012. Musical Group Interaction, Intersubjectivity and Merged Subjectivity. In Kinesthetic Empathy in Creative and Cultural Practices, ed. Dee Reynolds and Matthew Reason, 109–120. Bristol/Chicago: Intellect Books. Riis, Øle, and Linda Woodhead. 2010. A Sociology of Religious Emotion. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

  KIRTAN: MUSIC, EMOTION, AND BELONGING IN FINNISH HOLISTIC… 

115

Rogers, Richard A. 2006. From Cultural Exchange to Transculturation: A Review and Reconceptualization of Cultural Appropriation. Communication Theory 4: 474–503. Singleton, Mark, and Ellen Goldberg. 2013. Gurus of Modern Yoga. New York: Oxford University Press. Sloboda, John A., and Patrik N. Juslin. 2010. At the Interface Between the Inner and Outer World: Psychological Perspectives. In Handbook of Music and Emotion: Theory, Research, Applications, ed. Patrik N.  Juslin and John A. Sloboda, 73–97. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sointu, Eeva, and Linda Woodhead. 2008. Spirituality, Gender, and Expressive Selfhood. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 2: 259–276. Spradley, James P. 1979. The Ethnographic Interview. New York: Holt. Sutcliffe, Steven J. 2003. Children of the New Age: A History of Spiritual Practices. London: Routledge. Tøllefsen, Inga Bårdsen. 2021. Between Sports and Subjective Spirituality: Nordic Yoga Practitioners’ Perspectives on Yoga, Religion, and Spirituality. PhD Dissertation, UiT The Arctic University of Norway. Turner, Jonathan H. 2007. Human Emotions: A Sociological Theory. London: Routledge. Turner, Bryan S. 2012. Post-Secular Society: Consumerism and the Democratization of Religion. In The Post-Secular in Question. Religion in Contemporary Society, ed. Philip S. Gorski, 135–158. New York/London: New York University Press. von Scheve, Christian. 2013. Emotion and Social Structures. The Affective Foundations of Social Order. London/New York: Routledge. von Scheve, Christian, and Sven Ismer. 2013. Towards a Theory of Collective Emotions. Emotion Review 4: 406–413. Weber, Max. 1958. The Religions of India. The Sociology of Hinduism and Buddhism. New York: The Free Press. Zinnbauer, Brian J., Kenneth I.  Pargament, and Allie B.  Scott. 1999. The Emerging Meanings of Religiousness and Spirituality: Problems and Prospects. Journal of Personality 67: 889–919.

Art of Living and Transcendental Meditation: Eastern Practices for the “Scientifically Minded Westerner” Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen

Introduction Art of Living (AoL) and Transcendental Meditation (TM) are two of the most successful Hindu-inspired or Hindu-derived meditation movements (Williamson 2010; Jacobs 2015) in the world. While both organizations have originated in India their following is global, and both claim to have taught their respective meditation and breathing techniques to millions of people. In the west the practices in AoL and TM fit into a late-modern and neo-liberal “ideology” of holistic health. The ideal outcome is to improve physical and mental health, relieve stress, and mitigate illness within a framework of person-centered holistic health-and-spirituality, much in the same way as modern postural yoga (Tøllefsen 2021).

I. B. Tøllefsen (*) Department of Archaeology, History, Religious Studies and Theology, UiT The Arctic University of Norway, Tromsø, Norway e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_6

117

118 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

Although both organizations are relatively small, they are important actors and providers of eastern practices in Norway. On the Norwegian “spiritual health” scene, guru charisma is underplayed in lieu of other legitimation techniques. Even more than in the field of postural yoga, AoL and TM legitimate their practices through scientific, predominately medical and psychological, discourses, especially in PR and for new practitioners. They use scientific language and explanatory models, for example, emphasizing how the practices positively influence the brain and psychological processes and improve concentration. Social legitimation and, for TM, celebrity endorsement is an important legitimation factor, particularly in recruitment. For inward legitimation, on the other hand, blended authority—historical authority, the wisdom of the Vedas, and guru charisma—matters more. However, for secularized Norwegian TM and SKY breath practitioners, experiential legitimation, and self-authority are the most common legitimation strategies, with a focus on holistic health, wellbeing, and stress relief. Science, and particularly medical science, seems to be taken for granted rather than actively used by Norwegian practitioners. In this chapter I present a brief historical overview of the organizations and their emergence in Norway (Jacobs 2015; Tøllefsen 2014; Løøv 2012, 2019) and describe key practices in AoL and TM. I then proceed to analyze how the practices are legitimated socially, especially on the web, through traditional and charismatic authority, and through blended authority with a focus on Vedic knowledge. Afterward I present (medical) scientific legitimation in the organizations but conclude that the most important legitimation factor for engaged practitioners is individual experience and practice effect. The sources for this chapter are a combination of material from my master’s thesis on Art of Living in Norway (Tøllefsen 2012) which comprised participant observation and an online questionnaire, and the organizations’ own websites, social media profiles, and groups.

Art of Living and Transcendental Meditation: A Brief Historical Overview The Spiritual Regeneration Movement (SRG) was founded in India in 1958, to “provide in a systematized manner the technique of Transcendental Meditation so every person could enliven their consciousness and derive

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

119

benefits in all aspects of life” (Transcendental Meditation 2023). The founder Mahesh Yogi—later Maharishi Mahesh Yogi—rapidly built his organization, soon traveling to the United States and setting up the first meditation center in Los Angeles. He also started visiting Europe, founding groups and training meditation teachers. Maharishi was popular in the global 1960s counterculture, with connections to pop stars such as The Beatles. Media coverage created lots of interest in Indian ideas, meditation, and yoga among the young people of the time, and “Mahesh’s teaching was commensurate with the ethos of the countercultural outlook which ‘eschewed traditional forms American religion (sic.) and embraced more mystical alternatives focused on individual fulfillment,’ which was frequently expressed in terms of expanding one’s consciousness” (Jacobs 2015, 43). Mahesh Yogi visited Norway as early as 1960 to teach the TM technique, and a year after the guru’s visit a Spiritual Regeneration Movement (SRG) group was started in Norway. In 1966 a group of psychology students led by Are Holen founded the Academic Meditation Society (AMS) under the SRG umbrella, with the purpose of spreading TM to students and academics. Humes (2011) notes that in the mid-1960s, “college students in particular were attracted to the idea that TMs benefits were demonstrable through personal experience, as well as [Maharishi’s] promise of bringing out good forces after tapping into the spiritual world beyond the normally observable world of science” (Humes 2011, 349). Margrethe Løøv (2010, 2012) notes that the TM groups in Norway cooperated closely the first five years, but in 1972 AMS broke with, or were excommunicated from, SRG and changed their name to Acem. The same year Acem was sued by its former parent organization over the use of the meditation technique moniker. The groups settled, and the technique of the schismatic group is since called Acem meditation. Løøv and Winje (2022) note that the Spiritual Regeneration Movement changed their name several times, first to MIKI (Maharishi Institutt for Kreativ Intelligens) in the 1970s, and then to Maharishis Globale Administrasjon Gjennom Naturens Lov i Norge (MGANL Norge) in 2001. Today the organization is called Maharishistiftelsen, and on their website they note that they are the only organization in Norway who have rights to teach Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s technique Transcendental Meditation (Transcendental Meditasjon 2022a). TM has an official center in Oslo, Norway, and the six authorized teachers listed on the website serve most of the country.

120 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

Ravi Shankar, the founder of Art of Living, was employed in the TM organization from the mid-1970s. Most of his work consisted of traveling in India and in Europe to give talks on science, Ayurveda, and the Vedas, and hosting and representing the guru at events and celebrations. In 1981 Ravi Shankar split from TM (see Tøllefsen 2014) and founded his own organization, which started out as a Vedic school that later grew into a global organization led from AoL’s ashram in Bangalore, India. Ravi Shankar started teaching the yogic breathing technique sudarshan kriya in 1982, first in India and subsequently in Europe. From 1988 onward he started employing full-time teachers and part-time volunteers and greatly expanded the number of courses. In the mid-1990s the organization went fully global, and currently AoL has a presence in over 150 countries, with major centers and ashrams in Europe, North America, and Asia. Art of Living emerged onto the Norwegian holistic scene in 1999 and was officially registered as an organization in 2000. Previously the Norwegian center was in Dronningens gate in Oslo, but the organization has since moved to Grünerløkka flerbrukshus. In 2011 the AoL leadership in Norway estimated that they had about 500 more or less active participants across the country. In a questionnaire for Norwegian AoL participants from 2011 to 2012 (Tøllefsen 2012), I found that the average AoL questionnaire respondent was well-educated, middle class, and in their mid-40s, with a participant ratio of 70% females to 30% males. Several AoL questionnaire respondents have previously been taught the TM technique, and some the Acem technique, which points to some overlap or movement between the two organizations (Tøllefsen 2017). The official TM website in Norway claims that around 50,000 people have learnt the technique in Norway only. TM is, at least in the Norwegian context, primarily practiced individually, but experienced meditators are invited to follow-up programs and monthly meetings in person or online. TM in Norway has a Facebook and Instagram page, which seems to be used mostly for promoting introductory lectures and YouTube videos, and a closed Facebook group for experienced meditators. Art of Living Norway, in addition to their official website, has an official Facebook page which mainly is used for promoting workshops, courses, and events. There are also public social media groups for AoL practitioners and devotees in Scandinavia, and in Trondheim, Norway. These have approximately 130–150 members, and users mostly post videos, course information, and follow-up invitations.

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

121

Courses and Key Practices in Art of Living and Transcendental Meditation In TM, the meditation technique is disseminated in a 4-day course which includes personal teaching by a certified TM teacher, and combined individual and group classes. The primary technique taught in Maharishi’s organization is a mantra meditation which is described as “absolutely effortless” (Transcendental Meditasjon 2022b).1 The mantra is a “sound bite”—a word or sound that is repeated to aid concentration during meditation—which is given to the meditator by an instructor. The mantra is private and used for thinking rather than speaking or chanting out loud, as is common in similar forms of meditation. Official TM websites explain that the technique does not rely on mindfulness (thought monitoring) or on emptying the mind. Rather, the aim is to not fight for control over one’s mind or thoughts. The transcendental aspect of the practice is explained as going beyond the surface level of awareness, toward a deep inner stillness. Løøv (2019) points out that the central aim of the mantra sounds in TM is to unite with a transcendent “Being.” “During meditation, the vibrations of the mantra lead the individual consciousness back to ‘om’/‘Being.’ When meditating regularly, one will gradually reach subtler levels of vibrations/existence, until the individual is finally united with the unified, transcendent field of ‘Being’” (Løøv 2019, 38). In the last 20 years AoL has offered various iterations of official courses. The AoL beginner’s course is now called Meditation and Breath Workshop (also known as the Happiness course), over 3  days either online or in-­ person. The course teaches yogic breathing techniques, simple yoga asana and meditation, along with Ravi Shankar’s trademarked sudarshan kriya breathing technique. Sudarshan kriya, or SKY breath, is a rhythmic breathing technique which includes minor body movements and counting. In AoL the act of properly breathing is believed to regulate the mind and the emotions, and to help practitioners cope with the stressors of everyday modern lifestyle. Other courses on offer for beginners are Sahaj Samadhi Meditation, described as an effortless, sound-based technique, and Sri Sri Yoga, which teaches basic asana, yoga nidra, breathing techniques (pranayama), and yogic knowledge. For the experienced student a course called Silence Program is on offer. These live-in retreats build on the knowledge from the Happiness course and train students in mudras, in deep, guided meditation called “Hollow and Empty,” and in yoga and Vedic wisdom.

122 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

In addition to teaching SKY breath, AoL hosts group practices called satsang (“good company”) and encourages seva, volunteer work. Together these are known as sadhana. In traditional Hinduism these are spiritual practices that lead to liberation from the wheel of rebirth. However, the goal in AoL is much more physical and concrete than in traditional Hinduism. Sadhana in AoL “is not articulated in terms of liberation, but in terms of therapeutic and spiritual goals such as being less stressed and being more in touch with one’s authentic self” (Jacobs 2015, 95). This perspective is supported by findings in Tøllefsen (2012, 2014, 2015, 2017), where Norwegian AoL respondents show little interest in any form of afterlife or liberation. Rather, the immediate and this-worldly benefits of the practice are the important factors. TM comes across as an individualistic, personal practice tailored toward a meditator who aims for self-actualization, better health, and better performance in her personal and professional life. In this sense, TM aligns to a business model where the meditation technique becomes a trademarked “product” that is offered to a consumer by authorized teachers. Globally TM also offers Ayurvedic herbal products under the brand name Maharishi Ayurveda, which ranges from supplements to skincare and tea. The holistic wellness brand claims that disease is a symptom of imbalance and that the products will help in restoring health in the body, mind, and emotions. The AoL business model is not very different, in that there are teachers who offer a trademarked technique and that consumers can supplement their practice with Sri Sri Tattva Ayurvedic products. The AoL organization has benefited from the meditation business innovations made by TM. However, Art of Living is currently more diverse and offers a broader range of spirituality-oriented activities.

Social Legitimation In both TM and AoL social legitimation of the practices is important. New practitioners tend to be recruited through family or friends who vouch for the efficacy of the practice. Among respondents to the AoL questionnaire up to 70% report that family and friends were their primary point of contact with the organization. That peers, friends, and family are involved with an eastern practice is therefore one of the strongest indicators for “conversion” in a Norwegian context. The pattern is similar for people starting a postural yoga practice (Tøllefsen 2021). However, social legitimation is also used in a different way on the organizations’ own

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

123

homepages on the internet: through linking to global media outlets that have written favorably about the practices or through celebrity validation of the practices. The international homepages of Transcendental Meditation (2023) and Art of Living (2022a) are often the first landing site for the public. Both homepages look sleek and modern, are easy to navigate, and let the organizations present their respective techniques and courses and extol the benefits of the practices. Both sites anchor and validate their message through links and highlights from medical scientific studies (more on this below) and mentions in acknowledged print and online magazines. The TM website quotes from articles in Forbes and Axios magazines, Art of Living prominently displays being featured on CNN, Indian Express, The New York Times, Yoga Journal, and TIME magazine. Earning positive features in global mainstream media is a surefire way to get good publicity and legitimate the practices for a broad audience. Both pages also use social legitimation through testimonies from practitioners, either prominently featured on the website or in TMs case, with favorite reviews from Trustpilot, an independent customer review website. Celebrity endorsement is a prominent feature on the TM websites. For example, a video with Ellen DeGeneres in conversation with Dr. Tony Nader, one of the most prominent TM teachers and authors, is featured on almost all TM websites, and so is a tile with Paul McCartney’s testimony on the benefits of the meditation. On the Indian version of the site a video is prominently featured, where actor Cameron Diaz explains how easy TM is to practice. As a marketing strategy, using credible endorsers (Spry et  al. 2011) such as celebrities is highly useful and common. It enhances the awareness and value of both brands (TM and the celebrity) and makes the organization and the meditation practice appealing to new consumers. The AoL homepage does not use celebrity validation but focuses on Ravi Shankar, the organization’s guru-founder. It could be argued that the prominent place of the guru on the AoL websites function in a similar way as TMs celebrity endorsement, through the featuring of a well-known charismatic personality that positively endorses the brand and practices.2 The many service initiatives and peace efforts made in the humanitarian branch of the AoL organization are also key features on the home page, which further works to enhance the “likeability” of the brand.

124 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

Traditional and Charismatic Authority Like many Hindu-inspired meditation organizations, AoL and TM are practice-focused rather than preoccupied with belief or doctrine. In a sense this is a pragmatic approach, in that what matters is that the practices or techniques work (Kraft 2011). The idea that TM and AoL practices can help the individual in various ways is what can be called a therapeutic belief (Jacobs 2015); that the practices cause practitioners to become connected to their emotions and in balance; and that this will lead to an increase in both mental and physical health. Practices and beliefs in these organizations are a package of symbolic resources that practitioners can use as needed. There is a link between the spiritual and therapeutic in both organizations’ teachings, which shows in an individual dimension—self-­ knowledge and authenticity equals wellbeing—and in a social dimension, knowing the inner self allows practitioners to connect with all of humanity and the natural world. The organizations’ legitimation strategies are adapted to the socio-­ cultural needs of the moment and the internal aims of the organizations. For example, in the early period of TM the organization’s legitimation strategies were predominately “religious” and traditional in nature (Weber 1978). For about a decade Maharishi was a disciple of Swami Brahmananda Saraswati, the Shankaracharya of the Jyotri Math hermitage belonging to the advaita vedanta tradition (Løøv 2019; see also Humes 2011 for a description of what this means in the TM context). This set the guru up as the endpoint in a line of holy men in a revered Hindu guru-shishya tradition and lent Mahesh Yogi the necessary traditional credence to found and grow his own organization. As mentioned above, Ravi Shankar worked closely with Maharishi for many years, and when he founded his own organization, he too drew legitimacy from the advaita vedanta tradition. Ravi Shankar’s biography posits him as a scholar of both Vedic literature and physics, and he has written commentaries on several well-known Hindu texts (Gurudev 2022). Both gurus can also be understood as charismatic (Weber 1978), which can be understood as a combination of charm and personality, and a social contract with followers. Maharishi boosted his charisma with the help of celebrities and media, and remnants of his charisma can be seen to still exist in the organization and in media even though the guru has long since passed away and the organization has turned toward rational-legal (bureaucratic) authority. AoL places itself within a Hindu religious world and

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

125

within Indian New Age (see Frøystad 2011), but the focus is less on guru lineage and more on Ravi Shankar as a “self-made man” and charismatic figurehead of the organization. Ravi Shankar is both the symbolic and actual leader and the primary source of authority within the organization. However, it is possible for a Norwegian SKY Breath practitioner to have very little contact with the organization and to never have met the guru in India or during his world tours. Many western practitioners, as Jacobs (2015) also alludes to, can be quite skeptical toward any form of outside (non-self) authority. Although the practices work for them, the AoL Questionnaire material indicates that “submitting” to an Indian guru feels “unnatural” or “not right” (Tøllefsen 2012, 2017).

Blended Authority: Vedic Science Appealing to the authority of science to legitimate beliefs and practices is a key strategy for many types of contemporary religious organizations. Conflicting truth claims are in play, but the days when religion was a legitimizing factor for other social institutions are, at least in a Nordic context, mostly over. Therefore, as James R.  Lewis (2011, 23) writes, it makes sense that “in today’s religious marketplace, religions should seek to enhance their authority by appealing to a source of legitimacy like science” due to the social status that science has in the west. Strategic use of science is common in Hindu-inspired meditation movements. However, in organizations like TM and AoL authority is often blended in the sense that several forms of legitimation are in play at the same time. Vedic science, or Hindutva science, is an excellent example of blended legitimation strategies, where the authority of Hindu sacred scriptures is amalgamated with the authority of science. Ravi Shankar and Mahesh Yogi both have made good use of Sanskrit language and references to the Vedas in their wisdom dissemination. Beyond talks and discourses both organizations have research centers, educational institutions, health centers, and Ayurvedic brands that derive their authority from Vedic tradition. The Vedic output is also thoroughly mediatized in both organizations. For example, TM offers a subscription to a Maharishi Veda app that can be downloaded to android, iPhone, and computers. The app offers classical Indian music and Vedic recitation, stating that “Vedic sounds are the eternal sounds of Nature. Whenever these most fundamental sounds are heard, the reverberations begin to resonate in our human body. This

126 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

restores balance and harmony in mind, body, behavior and environment— bringing added peace and joy in life” (Maharishi Veda app 2022). The app FAQ page describes the benefits of Vedic recitation and Vedic Devata— the “Creative Intelligence” responsible for the creation, maintenance, and evolution of everything in the universe. “Creative Intelligence” and the “Unified Field of Natural Law” are the cornerstones of TM beliefs and at the heart of the Vedic Science efforts. The same FAQ site refers to the mental and physical benefits of the Transcendental Meditation technique by referring to scientific studies and meta-analyses conducted by independent research institutions around the world and to the vibrational consciousness “technology” of Vedic Devata/Creative Intelligence. By combining “ancient wisdom” and scientific ideas the organization places itself in a discourse that is both spiritual and rational. Likewise, AoL discourse presents Vedic knowledge as universal, rational, and consistent with a scientific paradigm. Science and spirituality are not mutually exclusive, but compatible and complementary. A brochure called “Science of Breath,” found at the Art of Living website, shows the research output and effects of SKY Breath and refers to the technique as a continuation of ancient yogic (Vedic) science. The Yogic Science of Breath is a precise, 5000+ year-old science of health promotion. It is one of the first sciences to recognize the impact of the mind and emotions in creating and restoring optimal health. One of the most comprehensive breathing techniques derived from this science is Sudarshan Kriya (SK). SK is understood to use specific rhythms of breath to eliminate stress, support the various organs and systems within the body, transform overpowering emotions, and restore peace of mind, thus supporting the whole mind-body system. (Art of Living 2022b)

The conflation of science and spirituality may seem unfamiliar from a western standpoint. Since the scientific revolution science and religion have (mostly) been understood as diametral opposites with different authorities, epistemologies, and institutions. However, as Løøv (2019) highlights, the same distinction between religion and science has not been present in Indian traditions. Rather, different disciplines of knowledge production have been seen as parts of an integrated whole. The Vedas, for example, contain much more than what in western knowledge production can be termed “religion,” such as grammar, etymology, and prosody (Løøv 2019). Furthermore, “religion” has no traditional counterpart in

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

127

Indian tradition, and much of what in India has been labeled “science” would in a western mind be “religion.” Therefore, religion and science are perhaps best seen as culturally contingent and negotiable concepts. When studying the development of […] meditation organizations which originated in India, we need to take the general conceptual gap between the culture of departure and arrival into consideration. […] the terms “religion” and “science” do not bear any fixed meaning, and what they refer to may vary according to cultural, situational and individual differences. (Løøv 2019, 28)

From a western standpoint the focus on Vedas, Hindu tradition (in modern packaging), and natural science such as (quantum) physics can be analyzed as a form of Naturphilosophie. Antoine Faivre (1987) makes a distinction between objective, phenomena-focused natural science, and Naturphilosophie—the science of nature: a metaphysical and quite speculative but still “intuitive and rigorous approach focusing on the reality underlying phenomenal reality” (Faivre 1987, 336). This schema fits well with Vedic science (and particularly the form of Vedic physics that is visible in TM) which aims at showing how perennial Hindu tradition can be supported by physics (Lowe 2011). David Allan Rehorick (1981) notes that the Vedas are the “intellectual basis” for TM, but for a western audience these ancient Indian texts require translation and re-interpretation. Maharishi therefore strategically employed scientific language and frames of reference to usher in an ideal future world. “Objectivated Western science would account for and explain—would make meaningful—subjective Eastern enlightenment experience. Ultimately, the promise of Maharishi is that our Age of Science will be superseded by an Age of Enlightenment” (Rehorick 1981, 340). The Vedas are, in both organizations, understood as the source of universal wisdom and ultimate values. Since its inception in the West, the Transcendental Meditation movement has increasingly embraced scientific tropes. Scientific terms and allegories are frequently used in the presentation of meditation to outsiders. However, the Vedic tradition has remained its authoritative source of knowledge. The TM movement claims that modern science verifies “truths” that were revealed in the Vedas, and the use of science can be seen as a strategy to convey “Vedic” teachings in a language and form that appears familiar and legitimate in the ears of a Western audience. (Løøv 2019, 44)

128 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

Therefore, the scientification of Vedic knowledge can be understood as an “ideological tool” to popularize the organizations and the practices in a western context, through objectifying the practices with the use of scientific language.

Mainstream (Medical) Science on the World Wide Web Blended legitimation through tradition-and-science (the Vedic Naturphilosophie angle) is primarily an “insider” strategy aimed at those who are already invested in the organization and the techniques. However, Kathinka Frøystad’s work (2011) supports the observation that somewhat different legitimation strategies are aimed at different audiences. For public outreach and PR and to attract new practitioners, “pure” or mainstream scientific rhetoric is most common. Lowe (2011) highlights that the strategy of scientifically validating the techniques is a significant part of what allowed TM to shift out of the counterculture and into the mainstream self-development supermarket. AoL has followed a similar strategy, where scientific language and references to studies in medicine and psychology form an important part of the legitimation basis and selling points of the practices. Indeed, there are many studies on the effects of the practices in TM and AoL, so in this sense the scientific legitimation strategy has been a success. Cynthia Humes (2011) notes that “Transcendental Meditation and its purported benefits has been the subject of over 600 studies of its physiological, psychological and sociological impact; TM is perhaps the most researched meditative technique seeking empirical proofs on the nature of the mind and techniques of all time” (Humes 2011, 345). AoL, a much younger organization, has not reached the same volume. Jacobs (2015) reports that on PubMed (National Library of Medicine) 22 studies were published on the sudarshan kriya technique between 1998 and 2013. I searched the same database from the years 2013 to 2022, and in this period found 54 studies on sudarshan kriya, investigating mental health, sleep quality, Covid-19, generalized wellbeing and alcohol dependence. However, a new meditator or SKY breath practitioner will most likely not search medical databases for papers on the organizations’ practices. Rather, they will engage with the organizations’ own websites and social media profiles, and from there be convinced that the practices are

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

129

scientifically valid. Both organizations make good use of mainstream scientific studies in their public outreach work, which becomes particularly visible on the network of websites the organizations own and operate. The Art of Living homepage (2022a) features only research highlights for their “evidence-based technique that quickly reduces stress and makes meditation effortless.” In comparison, the TM website focuses almost exclusively on the evidence-based and guaranteed outcomes of the meditation practice, with easy-to-read explanations and illustrations (Transcendental Meditation 2022). However, both homepages link to the organizations’ devoted-to-research websites, which refer to hundreds of studies on the physical and mental benefits of the respective techniques and are packed with research charts and links to favorable studies—many of them from reputed universities and research centers around the world. The imagery and rhetoric on these websites reinforces the idea that outcomes of AoL and TM practices can be scientifically proven, measured, and offer the desired physical and mental changes. “The emphasis on quantitative data, the use of accepted measurement instruments and the affiliation of researchers with bona fide academic institutions and professional qualifications, all contribute to the idea that AOL practices can be objectively verified to bring about positive benefits to practitioners” (Jacobs 2015, 169).

Experiential Legitimation Social and celebrity legitimation, blended authority, and scientific validation are all important aspect of authority in eastern practice. However, the most important factor not only for starting but also for continuing a practice is experiential legitimation or validation, based in the authority of the self and the individual experience of practice effect (Heelas 1996; Partridge 2005; Heelas 2008). The inner self is (to some extent) the locus of sacrality, and the individual herself is responsible for maintaining and perfecting the self, most often through good health and wellbeing. The experience that the practices work toward this goal connects to the bodily turn in (New Age) spirituality and religion in the west (Hanegraaff 1996). Personal experience is the main validating principle of AoL, and there are two types that consistently come into play. “The first is that almost all participants suggest they had very powerful and emotional experiences when doing sudarshan kriya for the first time. Secondly, without exception, participants report that their lives have become transformed in some way through their involvement in AoL” (Jacobs 2015, 129). The findings

130 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

here are consistent with the data from the Norwegian AoL Questionnaire, where the dimension of personal experience with positive emotions and increased physical and mental health are much more important than belief or charismatic and institutional authority (Tøllefsen 2012, 2014). Experiential legitimation is closely connected to social legitimation. A friend, family member, or celebrity has credence in themselves, but the content of their experiences is even more important. Testimonies provide a “blueprint” for what new customers can (and should) expect from the practice and prime them for their own positive experiences of increased health and wellbeing. On both TM and AoL webpages testimonies from practitioners are either prominently featured on the site or in the case of TM featured through links to reviews on Trustpilot. There is only one review available on the Norwegian site, however, in the American version reviews range into the thousands. This is one example. TM improved my quality of life in a matter of days. I have more energy, enthusiasm and optimism than I have felt in decades. I have started exercising again. And, my blood pressure has dropped to safe levels. I hope my doctor will take me off my BP medication soon. The instructor did an excellent job, both in explaining the process and making me feel comfortable with the new experience. (Haydan 2022)

The reviewer highlights aspects of wellbeing and quality of life, positive impacts on measurable health factors, and the pedagogy of the instructors. This is a common type of feedback or testimony in both organizations, also reflected in AoL respondent experiences with sudarshan kriya, such as these from the 2011 and 2012 Questionnaire: Stress relief—Experience of a “broader view” My body gets peaceful and calm. I feel clean inside. Have felt I have been in touch with the self: absolute peace and bliss. I suffer from Chronic Fatigue Syndrom/Myalgic Encephalopati. The yoga and breathing exercises have absolutely a positive influence on my life.

Like the TM reviews AoL Questionnaire respondents mention both increased wellbeing and health. Some use a spiritual language that emphasizes the self, peace, and bliss as positive and desirable outcomes (for more practitioner testimonies, see Tøllefsen 2012, 2017). Words like stress,

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

131

relaxation, emotions, and health are very common in Norwegian practitioner responses (Tøllefsen 2017), and Milda Ališauskienė (2009) sees the same pattern among her Danish and Lithuanian AoL respondents. Art of Living teachings state that by controlling the breath, practitioners can also control their minds, bodies, and emotions, and thereby mitigate stress. Therefore, the experiential legitimation of the practices points to that TM and sudarshan kriya in a Norwegian context can be interpreted as a form of therapy. The therapeutic aspects of eastern, alternative, or New Age practices are very strong in Norway (Kraft 2011; Kalvig 2013, 2017a, b), and personal experience is the main form of authority.

Science as Taken-for-Granted Legitimation It seems that science, and medical science in particular, works as a legitimating factor on different levels in TM and AoL.  In PR and external legitimation—the ways in which the practices are presented on websites and to new practitioners—scientific, biomechanical language, and validation though academic studies are important. However, when meditators and SKY breath practitioners continue the practice over a period, the foci of legitimation change toward blended authority, Vedic wisdom, and personal experience. That does not mean that science is unimportant. Milda Ališauskienė’s (2009) study on AoL in Lithuania and Denmark suggests that science is important in the Lithuanian context, which may be due to a culture inscribed with post-communist scientific atheism. Her Danish respondents do not emphasize science in the same way, and neither do Norwegians. Of course, some AoL Questionnaire respondents refer to themselves as a “typically scientifically minded Westerner” and prefer a practice that is non-religious, or at least less religious. Or, as another respondent says, “teaching and encouraging irrational thinking is immoral, but for being religious AOL does comparatively little damage.” However, almost half of Norwegian AoL Questionnaire respondents interpret SKY as neither science nor religion, but as a “mind-body therapy […] and almost ninety percent highlighted physical and physiological benefits of the practice. Some of the Norwegian respondents even seem rather skeptical toward the way science is portrayed in the organization—perhaps deeming it too ‘new agey’ and not sufficiently orthodox” (Tøllefsen 2017, 236).

132 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

What is visible with both TM reviewers and AoL Questionnaire respondents is that there is no explicit mention of Vedic science, and perhaps more surprisingly, very little on academic or medical research on the practices. This point to a basic tension between what is considered religious and what is considered scientific (and indeed, between different types of science), and that teachers and practitioners respond to these blurred boundaries in different ways. Vedic knowledge seems to be reserved mainly for experienced practitioners, and in the case of AoL, taught only in advanced-level courses. Western science, and particularly medical science, on the other hand, seems to function mostly as background or “taken-for-granted” legitimation for long-time practitioners. As one AoL Questionnaire respondent says: “When I personally experienced the difference it made in my life, why should I bother with scientific support?” Practitioners’ self-authority and their embodied and emotional experiences of the practices and benefits seem to be the key. The AoL Questionnaire respondents are after all already familiar with the techniques: medical science legitimation strategies are no longer necessary to “sell” sudarshan kriya or meditation to them. Rose (1976, 120) upholds that most meditators tend to focus on two ideological aspects of the TM movement (science and spirituality) in explaining why they began and continue to meditate. This is not a faulty observation, but I think the picture is a bit more complicated. Objectification of the practices (Rehorick 1981) is important for PR, recruitment, and new practitioners. However, for both organizations it seems like inward-facing strategies such as increasing knowledge of Vedic wisdom, deeper personal spirituality and self-actualization, or increased awareness of physical and mental health are more useful strategies than medical science to retain practitioners who already are connected to the organizations. In his study on New Age religion and western culture, Wouter Hanegraaff (1996) highlights that holistic, selective, and “non-­ reductionistic” approaches to science have traveled from alternative to mainstream culture. Scientific legitimation of eastern practices for a western audience has been prevalent since Vivekanada’s time (Brown 2010) and has since spread throughout the spiritual milieu (Frøystad 2011; Bradby 2010). Geertz (2009) notes that the dissimilarities between therapy and spirituality, and those of science, have been blurred and denied. However, in a Nordic context it is also fair to say that borders between religion and science are also upheld. In organizations like Acem (the

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

133

Norwegian TM offshoot), who are an entirely secularized group, psychological effects of meditation seem to be at the top of the effect-hierarchy. On the outside, TM looks as secularized: the initial (outward-reaching, public) point of contact with TM is all about science, where medicalized rhetoric, published studies, and institutional research affiliation are core legitimation strategies. However, Løøv (2019) notes that psychological outcomes valued in the TM movement as well, but only as a valuable “side effect” of a technique that ultimately is aimed toward unity with a transcendent, creative being or intelligence. With closer contact with the organization, practitioners become familiarized with the scientific metaphysics of the Vedic worldview, where Indian New Age spirituality is fused with new technologies, alternative sciences, methodology, terminologies, and educational scientific capital to create functional legitimation strategies (Humes 2011). The success of AoL is predicated upon TM’s trailblazing appeals to both science and tradition and their insistence that meditation is a universally valid practice. Art of Living uses similar tactics when disseminating their breathing techniques, meditations, or yoga practices. However, the AoL portfolio of practices and activities is more diverse, and therefore their legitimation strategies are necessarily diverse as well. There are clear emotional, moral, and spiritual goals in AoL that fit well with both Indian and western (New Age) discourses and audiences. However, in AoL, “[…] the ultimate source of authority is based on subjective experiences rather than any transcendent reality mediated through an external institutional authority” (Jacobs 2015, 210).

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries In contemporary eastern groups in Norway, the main objectives are health benefits, stress reduction, and self-development and actualization, which for practitioners include physical, psychological, and spiritual outcomes that can be achieved through eastern practices such as yoga (Tøllefsen 2021), meditation, or pranayama. The TM and AoL organizations are enmeshed in a global therapeutic culture (Madsen 2017) where spirituality and wellbeing within an overarching scientific worldview is no longer controversial or extraordinary, but rather normalized and mainstream. Science is an important outward legitimation strategy for both types of

134 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

practice, but inward strategies lean more toward tradition, Vedic wisdom, and most importantly experiential authority. These findings have some implications for the study of eastern practices in the Nordic countries. Hindu-inspired or derived groups like TM and AoL balance between (the sometimes challenging) categories of religion, spirituality, and secularity, and are therefore useful for shedding light on what these categories can entail in a Norwegian research context. Furthermore, these organizations are useful candidates for the study of organized New Age and New Religious Movements in a Nordic context, in terms of both the distribution and reception of eastern Hindu-inspired practices and ideas and practitioner demographics (Tøllefsen 2012, 2014, 2015, 2017; Løøv 2012, 2019). Gendered reception of eastern practices is particularly interesting in this context. This chapter highlights forms of authority and legitimation strategies within the movements and for the disseminated practices. A broader and more nuanced understanding of both internal and external legitimation strategies is useful in untangling how Hindu-inspired organizations in Norway recruit and retain members/practitioners. The Nordic countries are quite secularized, and the strategic use of science and blended authority is particularly interesting in this context. Why and how does “sciences” continue to be an important factor in both outward and inward legitimation for the practice, in opposition to or covalence with religion? Like other eastern-oriented organizations such as the Satsang Network and the diksha/Oneness movement in Sweden (see, e.g., Frisk 2002, 2014; Frisk and Åkerbäck 2015) or the wider field of modern postural yoga (Tøllefsen 2021), AoL and TM present themselves as universalistic and not particularly ideological or ethically oriented. They are oriented toward the experience and the effects of the communal and/or individual practices, rather than the traditional religious concerns that can be found in a Nordic church environment. They are well adapted to the zeitgeist and to the forms of spiritual expression that attract practitioners in our post-­ modern world: individualism, self-improvement, self-spirituality, and experience (Campbell 2007; Heelas 2008; Frisk 2014; Tøllefsen 2012, 2014). A valuable field of study in the Nordic context would be and if and how the organizations indigenize or adapt the practices to a local framework marked by both secularization and a strong majority religion (Gilhus and Kraft 2017). Eastern practices and philosophies are thoroughly mediatized (Lundby 2021; Kraft 2017) in the Nordic market, and they are increasingly part of

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

135

mainstream culture. More research on Hindu-inspired meditation movements can tell us something about both religious and secular-spiritual pluralism in the Nordic area and about when, where, and in which contexts different legitimation strategies come into play.

Notes 1. All translations are made by the author. 2. In comparison, the global TM site (Transcendental Meditation 2023) focuses only on the meditation technique. Mahesh Yogi is not mentioned anywhere—except for a small tile in the upper right corner of the page, which links to a very short bio stating that he is the founder of the technique and “a renowned scientist of consciousness, revived the ancient meditative practices from the Yoga tradition of India. He brought meditation out of its traditional shroud of mysticism and into the light of science—making it easy for anyone to learn and opening it to the scrutiny of modern medical research.”

References Ališauskienė, Milda. 2009. Spirituality and Religiosity in the Art of Living Foundation in Lithuania and Denmark: Meanings, Contexts and Relationships. In Subcultures and New Religious Movements in Russia and East-Central Europe, ed. George McKay, 339–364. Bern: Peter Lang. Art of Living. 2022a. artofliving.org. Accessed 6 Apr 2023. ———. 2022b. The Science of Breath. http://aolresearch.org/2021/Science_ of_Breath_Brochure_2022.pdf. Accessed 6 Apr 2023. Bradby, Ruth. 2010. Science as Legitimation for Spirituality: From the Aquarian Conspiracy to Channeling and a Course in Miracles. In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, Brill Handbooks of Contemporary Religion, ed. James Lewis and Olav Hammer, vol. 3, 687–705. Leiden: Brill. Brown, C.  Mackenzie. 2010. Vivekananda and the Scientific Legitimation of Advaita Vedanta. In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, Brill Handbooks of Contemporary Religion, ed. James Lewis and Olav Hammer, vol. 3, 205–248. Leiden: Brill. Campbell, Colin. 2007. The Easternization of the West: A Thematic Account of Cultural Change in the Modern Era. Boulder: Paradigm Publishers. Faivre, Antoine. 1987. Nature: Religious and Philosophical Speculations. In Encyclopedia of Religion, ed. Mircea Eliade, 328–337. New  York: Palgrave Macmillan.

136 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

Frisk, Liselotte. 2002. The Satsang Network: A Growing Post-Osho Phenomenon. Nova Religio: The Journal of New and Emergent Religions 1: 64–85. ———. 2014. Enhetsvälsignelse eller diksha: Helande och upplysning på samma gång. In Helig hälsa: Helandemetoder i det mångreligiösa Sverige, ed. Jessica Moberg and Göran Ståhle, 97–110. Stockholm: Dialogos Förlag. Frisk, Liselotte, and Peter Åkerbäck. 2015. New Religiosity in Contemporary Sweden: The Dalarna Study in National and International Context. Sheffield: Equinox Publishing Ltd. Frøystad, Kathinka. 2011. From Analogies to Narrative Entanglement: Invoking Scientific Authority in Indian New Age Spirituality. In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, Brill Handbooks of Contemporary Religion, ed. James Lewis and Olav Hammer, vol. 3, 41–66. Leiden: Brill. Geertz, Armin W. 2009. When Cognitive Scientists Become Religious, Science is in Trouble: On Neurotheology from a Philosophy of Science Perspective. Religion 4: 319–324. Gilhus, Ingvild, and Siv Ellen Kraft. 2017. Introduction: New Age in Norway. In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Gilhus, Siv Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis, 1–18. Sheffield: Equinox Publishing Ltd. Gurudev. 2022. Biography. https://www.srisriravishankar.org/life/biography/. Accessed 10 Oct 2022. Hanegraaff, Wouter. 1996. New Age Religion and Western Culture: Esotericism in the Mirror of Secular Thought. Albany: SUNY Press. Haydan, Richard. 2022. TM improved my quality of life in a… Trustpilot. 4 October 2022. https://www.trustpilot.com/review/tm.org?page=26. Accessed 5 Apr 2023. Heelas, Paul. 1996. The New Age Movement: Religion, Culture and Society in the Age of Postmodernity. New York: Wiley. ———. 2008. Spiritualities of Life: New Age Romanticism and Consumptive Capitalism. Malden/Oxford: Blackwell Publishing. Humes, Cynthia Ann. 2011. The Transcendental Meditation Organization and its Encounter with Science. In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, Brill Handbooks of Contemporary Religion, ed. James Lewis and Olav Hammer, vol. 3, 345–369. Leiden: Brill. Jacobs, Steven. 2015. The Art of Living Foundation: Spirituality and Wellbeing in the Global Context. Farnham: Ashgate. Kalvig, Anne. 2013. Åndeleg helse. Livssyn og menneskesyn hos alternative terapeutar. Oslo: Cappelen Damm Akademisk. Kalvig, Anne Kathrine. 2017a. Contemporary Spiritualism in Norway: Faith Assemblies and Market Products. In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Gilhus, Siv Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis, 181–203. Sheffield: Equinox Publishing.

  ART OF LIVING AND TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION: EASTERN… 

137

———. 2017b. Alternative Medicine: Health-oriented Spiritual Practices in Norway. In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Gilhus, Siv Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis, 119–138. Sheffield: Equinox Publishing. Kraft, Siv Ellen. 2011. Hva er nyreligiøsitet. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. ———. 2017. Bad, Banal and Basic: New Age in the Norwegian News Press and Entertainment Media. In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Gilhus, Siv Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis, 65–78. Sheffield: Equinox Publishing Ltd. Lewis, James R. 2011. How Religions Appeal to the Authority of Science. In Handbook of Religion and the Authority of Science, Brill Handbooks of Contemporary Religion, ed. James Lewis and Olav Hammer, vol. 3, 23–40. Leiden: Brill. Løøv, Margrethe. 2010. Fra Veda til vitenskap: en kulturanalytisk studie av meditasjonsorganisasjonen Acems utvikling. Master Thesis, University of Oslo.  ———. 2012. Acems avfortrylling: Fra nyreligiøs motkultur til sekulær selvutviklingsteknikk. Chaos. Dansk-norsk tidsskrift for religionshistoriske studier 2: 9–34. ———. 2019. Between Religion and Science: Shifting Views on Knowledge in Acem and the Transcendental Meditation Movement. Alternative Spirituality and Religion Review 1: 25–47. Løøv, Margrethe, and Geir Winje. 2022. Transcendental Meditasjon. In: Store norske leksikon. https://snl.no/Transcendental_Meditasjon. Accessed 21 Sept 2022. Lowe, Scott. 2011. Transcendental Meditation, Vedic Science and Science. Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions 4: 54–76. Lundby, Knut. 2021. Religion i medienes grep: Medialisering i Norge. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. Madsen, Ole Jacob. 2017. Den terapeutiske kultur. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. Maharishi Veda App. 2022. https://www.maharishivedaapp.com/. Accessed 12 Oct 2022. Partridge, Christopher. 2005. The Re-enchantment of the West. Vol. 1. London/ New York: T&T Clark International. Rehorick, David Allan. 1981. Subjective Origins, Objective Reality: Knowledge Legitimation and the TM Movement. Human Studies 4: 339–357. Rose, Donna S. 1976. The Transcendental Meditation Movement: The Creation, Development and Institutionalization of a World View. PhD Dissertation, Southern Illinois University, Illinois. Spry, Amanda, Ravi Pappu, and T.  Bettina Cornwell. 2011.  Celebrity endorsement, brandcredibility and brand equity. European Journal of Marketing Vol. 45 No.6 2011: 882–909. Tøllefsen, Inga Bårdsen. 2012. A Study of the Art of Living Foundation. Master’s Thesis, UiT The Arctic University of Norway.

138 

I. B. TØLLEFSEN

———. 2014. Transcendental Meditation, the Art of Living Foundation, and Public Relations: From Psychedelic Romanticism to Science and Schism. In Controversial New Religions, ed. James R. Lewis and Jesper Aagaard Petersen, 159–175. New York: Oxford University Press. ———. 2015. The Art of Living Foundation in Norway: Indigenization and Continuity. In Handbook of Nordic New Religions, ed. James R. Lewis and Inga Bårdsen Tøllefsen, 239–253. Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers. ———. 2017. Hindu-inspired Meditation Movements in Norway. In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Gilhus, Siv Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis, 217–240. Sheffield: Equinox Publishing Ltd. ———. 2021. Between Sports and Subjective Spirituality: Nordic Yoga Practitioners’ Perspectives on Yoga, Religion, and Spirituality. PhD Dissertation, UiT The Arctic University of Norway. Transcendental Meditasjon. 2022a. Om oss. https://no.tm.org/om-­oss. Accessed 21 Sept 2022. ———. 2022b. https://www.tm.org/. Accessed 7 Oct 2022. Transcendental Meditation. 2022. What’s the Evidence? https://www.tm.org/ research-­on-­meditation. Accessed 12 Oct 2022. ———. 2023. Transcendental Meditation (TM) Profile. https://indiatm.org/ tm-­profile#:~:text=His%20Holiness%20Maharishi%20Mahesh%20Yogi,in%20 all%20aspects%20of%20life. Accessed 21 Mar 2023. Weber, Max. 1978. Economy and Society. Berkeley: University of California Press. Williamson, Lola. 2010. Transcendent in America, Hindu-Inspired Meditation Movements as New Religion. New York: New York University Press.

PART II

Aesthetics, Nature, and New Contexts

Embodying Qi in the Nordic Countries: The Healing Practices of Zhineng Qigong Daniel Enstedt

Introduction My first encounter with Zhineng qigong was during a weekend course in September 2017. I had been struggling with adhesiv kapsulit, a so-called frozen shoulder, for a couple of years and was in desperate need of an effective solution. The course, which was titled “Lift Qi Up Pour Qi Down”, took place in a room in which the chairs were placed along the walls to make space for straight rows of standing practitioners facing the teacher, who was positioned on a small stage. As it turned out, only seven of the twenty-two participants were newcomers; the rest were long-term practitioners, some for more than twenty years. That struck me at first as peculiar: why take the same course repeatedly? On the very first day, I learned the reason: it had to do with a central part of Zhineng qigong teaching—the notion of the qi field. As the teacher explained, you can

D. Enstedt (*) Department of Literature, History of Ideas, and Religion, University of Gothenburg, Gothenburg, Sweden e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_7

141

142 

D. ENSTEDT

“put things, wishes, in the qi field! Just staying in a strong qi field can contribute to wellbeing, better health, and stronger qi”.1 The strength and quality of the qi field are crucial for the results of such exercises, in terms of both improving health and developing one’s own ability (gong fu). Thus, returning to a strong qi field will help practitioners—regardless of how long they have been practicing—to attain the results they are striving for. During my first encounter with Zhineng qigong in September 2017, the summer course in Sweden was mentioned as something extraordinary, a place where the qi field was extra strong—partly due to the presence of the leader, Dong-Yue Su. I will return to the summer course below. This chapter examines the reception of qigong in the Nordic countries, with a focus on Zhineng qigong, which was developed by Pang Ming during the 1980s qigong boom in China and by one of Pang Ming’s pupils, Dong-Yue Su, in 1993  in Sweden. The leaders of European Zhineng qigong organize several qigong courses on a yearly basis, attracting practitioners from the Nordic countries and elsewhere. The 18-day summer course in Sweden is one of the more popular of these, at which about 200 people meet to practice qigong. Practitioners often emphasize the health-­ promoting and healing aspects qigong and how their various illnesses and health-related issues have been improved or even disappeared during practice in the qi field, where they gather more qi. Other aspects are mentioned as well, such as improvements in relationships and situations at work, anger management, and more spiritual and mystical aspects of qigong. The material analysed in this chapter is based on an autoethnographic field study conducted between 2017 and 2022 (Adams et al. 2015, 2021; Holman Jones et al. 2013).2 A central aspect of the fieldwork was partaking in the groups’ practices and striving to embody qi myself—not only during the courses but also in everyday life, as a form of lived religion (Ammerman 2021; Enstedt and Plank 2018, 2021; McGuire 2008). For me, living and practising together with the qigong group periodically over several years enabled not only access to the experiences, narratives, and practices of the group but also another type of embodied understanding in which my own experiences and life story came in to play during the process of fieldwork (Crowther et al. 2017). The material gathered from fieldwork consists of semi-structured interviews with twenty-one Zhineng qigong practitioners, as well as participatory observations, informal interviews, and field notes on a long series of Zhineng qigong courses over a period of four years (Harrison 2018). The

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

143

material focuses on the health-promoting and healing aspects of practicing qigong and on how practitioners live and shape their lives—that is, their everyday life, work life, and leisure time—based on the practices, ideals, and values promoted by European Zhineng qigong. This chapter aims to answer the following question: what results and experiences has the practice of Zhineng qigong brought to practitioners in terms of outlook on life, wellbeing, and health? More specific questions asked during the fieldwork concerned the importance of Zhineng qigong for practitioners in private, work, and family life; its importance when dealing with life crises, problems, and everyday worries; the effects and results of training; the importance of the qigong community and the qi field; the impact of qigong on medical conditions and treatments; and other experiences of practicing Zhineng qigong.

The Nordic Reception of the Healing Practices of Zhineng Qigong Zhineng qigong was developed by Pang Ming (born 1940; also known as Heming Pang or Ming He) during the qigong boom in China in the 1980s (Palmer 2007; Chen 2003, 35). Pang Ming has written several publications on Zhineng qigong, some of which have been translated into English (Ming 1994, 2013, 2014a, b, 2016). Moreover, several of his pupils and followers have commented on and developed his theories and methods in their own publications (Hin 2010, 2011; Gu 2011; Liu 2007; Chan 2002; Jin and Marcello 1999). Although it is not possible to unpack Zhineng qigong (as formulated by Pang Ming and his pupils) in a satisfactory way here, I will summarize some of the central thoughts and practices with the purpose of discussing the reception of Zhineng qigong in the Nordic countries. During the cultural revolution in China, from 1966 until the death of Mao Zedong in 1976, qigong was associated with the “superstition (mixin) and backwardness (luohou)” that held the country back from becoming modern (Chen 2003: 65). During these years, it was nearly impossible to practise qigong; as Nancy N.  Chen puts it in Breathing Spaces (2003), this was due to the “fear for that they would be mistaken for spiritual practices and lack of political fervor. The reframing of qigong as a healing art and science [rather than magic and religion] made it possible for people to participate” (Chen 2003, 65). According to David

144 

D. ENSTEDT

A. Palmer and Elijah Siegler, the reframing of qigong was aligned with the Chinese state’s project “to invent a modern, secularized, Chinese qigong in the service of the nation” by separating qigong from Daoism (Palmer and Siegler 2017, 235; see also Goossaert and Palmer 2011, 120). The establishment of a medicine-less hospital in 1988—namely, the Huaxia Zhineng Qigong Clinic & Training Centre—was an important step in developing and spreading Zhineng qigong as a healing art and science (Jin and Marcello 1999, 46–52). The centre offered numerous different teacher training classes over the years; although it is difficult to verify these numbers, Ooi Kean Hin, a Zhineng qigong teacher, has stated that “the centre treated more than 300 000 patients with 180 different illnesses, and achieved an overall effective rate of 95 percent” (Hin 2010, 8). Zhineng qigong is often promoted as a natural and safe non-invasive therapy. Along with other similar qigong centres, it was closed down in 2001, partly due to the changing policy of the Chinese Communist government.3 In Zhineng qigong, Pang Ming combines various strands of teachings from the “East”—that is, Daoist and Buddhist qigong, Confucianism, and martial arts—with Western medicine (Ming 1994). Such a combination of “Eastern wisdom” and “Western science” is not unique to Zhineng qigong, and the relation (and sometimes tension) between “East” and “West” plays a part in how the teaching develops and is received (Harrington 2008, 222–230). In Hunyuan Entirety Theory (1994), Pang Ming puts forth a holistic theory about qi, the laws of the universe, and life in general. While most other books on Zhineng qigong focus on methods, the Hunyuan Entirety Theory is all about theory. After a critique of reductive modern science, Pang Ming argues for a “paranormal ability” to be able to see the true nature of things in its entirety: “the true nature of the entirety is something that only emerges when viewed from a level of perception more encompassing than logical thinking” (Ming 1994, 14). Ming continues to argue for a materialistic monism, which means that “everything in existence is a manifestation of a single substance” and that the “unifying principle is universal hunyan qi” (Ming 1994, 14). Pang Ming directs criticism towards the supposed dualism in modern science, in which objects are studies by human subjects—even though he does not want to get rid of normal human ability, but rather include paranormal human ability. In fact, one of the results of practicing qigong is that one’s normal and paranormal abilities merge together (Ming 1994, 22). This view is illustrated by one of the examples given by Ming, in which

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

145

“normal” dualistic modern science estimates the healing process of a broken bone to be slow, whereas “in Zhineng Qigong science the broken bone can quickly mend—because it is altered by consciousness” (Ming 1994, 16). In fact, human consciousness “can be used to change the objective world as well as an individual’s internal life activity. This is the purpose of a Zhineng Qigong practice” (Ming 1994, 16). The development of the idea of paranormal qigong during the mid-1980s is described by David A. Palmer as follows: Paranormal qigong triggered great hope and enthusiasm, and became the basis of a discourse which merged the magical imagination of martial arts novels with the futuristic utopia of science fiction, stimulating hope for the resurrection of Chinese civilisation, the salvation of humanity and a paradisiacal future in which nothing would be impossible for man. (Palmer 2007, 102)

As I will show below, the hopeful and utopian aspects of paranormal qigong play a central part in the reception of Zhineng qigong in the Nordic countries. The qi field (zu chang), another central part of Zhineng qigong, is described as a layer of hunyuan qi that both surrounds the material and exists within it (Ming 1994, 20). However, the qi field has a wider significance in Zhineng qigong. In Paranormal Abilities (2016), Pang Ming writes about how to create and use the qi field—first and foremost in treatment, but also to improve peoples’ memory, gong fu (“ability”), and even the production of various industries (Ming 2016, 132). Furthermore, the qi field can vary in strength, density, and quality, mainly depending on peoples’ gong fu and desire to create it. According to Zhineng qigong, the human body consists of a unity of the physical body (xing or jing), mind or consciousness (shen), and qi. It is through the practice of qigong that people “can realise the unity of xing, qi, and shen” and “be able to demonstrate miraculous capability” (Ming 1994, 55). Pang Ming also mentions an extraordinary, super-ability level with “a high-level state of gong fu”, and explains: At this level, xing, qi and shen are totally different with common people, being indistinguishable and truly unified. Such a state is hard to describe. Simply put, when shen and qi are unified at xing, the body cannot be damaged. When shen and xing are unified at qi, people can change into qi and

146 

D. ENSTEDT

have no physical form. When xing and qi are unified at shen, people can appear or disappear at will. (Ming 1994, 56)

Since “common people” are not capable of realizing the extraordinary, super-ability level of qigong, they must practice Zhineng qigong step by step, following the prescribed exercises developed by Pang Ming, such as Lift Qi Up Pour Qi Down and Body Mind Form. In short, when hunyuan qi is cultivated and obtained through systematic and long-term Zhineng qigong practice, a high-level unity of xing, qi, and shen can be reached (Ming 1994, 90). Turning to Pang Ming’s The Methods of Zhineng Qigong Science (2013), the emphasis is more on practice than on theory. After going through Lift Qi Up Pour Qi Down (Level 1) step by step, Ming concludes with the expected results: “After practicing Lift Qi Up Pour Qi Down, body hunyuan qi will be increased and of better quality, illness can be healed, life will flourish and one can also develop wisdom” (Ming 2013, 48). The Body Mind form (Xing Shen Zhuang) is presented as level 2, while the Five Hunyuan Form (Wu Yuan Zhuang), which focuses on the qi of the inner organs, is level 3 (Ming 2014b). In The Methods of Zhineng Qigong Science (1994), static and “simple” methods are also presented, such as the Three Centres Merge Standing Form (San Xin Bing Zhan Zhuang) and Dun Qiang Gong.4 Most of the exercises offered by European Zhineng qigong are found in Pang Ming’s The Methods of Zhineng Qigong Science (2013) and in other publications on his methods. However, the third step of Zhineng qigong (Wu Yuan Zhuang) is not yet taught by European Zhineng qigong. Instead, Dong-Yue Su has developed Shenxin qigong—a dynamic method that is only taught in European Zhineng qigong during the nine-day winter course and some weekend courses. Nevertheless, Shenxin qigong has some similarities to elements of other practices, especially Xing Shen Zhuang. The European Zhineng qigong also offers a two-day course on Tuina, which is based on the treatment of acupoints in order to improve health. After this two-day course, a dynamic traditional qigong method (Weituo Jin), which does not belong to Zhineng qigong but is used in the Shaolin school, is taught. European Zhineng qigong also highlights the “strength and quality of the school’s qi-field [that] depends to a high degree on our teacher Dong-Yue Su’s ability, experience and gong fu” (Zhineng qigong 2022a). During a year, there are several opportunities to

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

147

participate in qigong courses; it is also possible to partake in local practice groups that meet once or twice a week in Sweden, Norway, and Finland. The first part of the eighteen-day summer course (nine days) focuses on Relaxation, La Qi, Hold Qi Up, Dun Qiang, and Qi Regulation. In addition, other courses such as the Qi Comb are offered during the summer course.5 The second part of the summer course (nine days) focuses on the second step of the Zhineng qigong school, Xing Shen Zhuang. The exercises from the first part of the course are also practiced during the second part (Zhineng qigong 2022b). I will now describe and analyse the summer course in more detail, before examining the narratives about the results of practicing European Zhineng qigong.

The Social Production of Qi at the European Zhineng Qigong Summer Course Starting on the first Monday after Midsummer at the end of June each year, up to 200 people gather to live together and practice qigong in Sweden. The summer course has been situated at the public school in a small town in rural Sweden for many years and celebrated its 25th anniversary in 2019.6 The summer course is planned to align with most people’s vacation time, rather than following seasonal changes like the more traditional calendrical rituals do. In my group, at the assessment at the end of the course, we took turns to talk about the results we attained during the course. One of the practitioners commented that “the year begins and ends at [the location of the summer course]”. A recurring saying during the course is that the qi field remains intact at the school until next year, when we increase it and “make it finer”. One of the leaders explained that we “increase qi in our strong qi field”. It was said that even the pupils at the school are calmer and do better at school, since the qi field also affects them, despite not participating in the course. Hence, the qi field at the summer course holds a special power for qigong followers, similar to a buddhafield (see Henriette Hanky’s chapter in this volume) or power place (Stausberg 2011, 98–99), even though the location is far from being a national affair or a tourist destination. The social production of qi at the European Zhineng qigong summer course is done through a transformation of the public school into a ritual setting, in which a range of social practices, narratives, emotions, and

148 

D. ENSTEDT

spatial and material elements play a part (cf. Grimes 2014). New explicit and implicit rules and practices overlap those already present at the school (i.e., no smoking, no nuts, etc.), and the border of the school is marked by the use of mobile phones (which are not allowed at school). Moreover, there are different thresholds within the school area, where the living areas are located in the classrooms (see Fig.  1). Men and women sleep separately; around eight people sleep on mattresses on the floor of each classroom, separated only by pupils’ desks and chairs.7 There are also family rooms, where families with small children live together. Within the living area, there are places in the hallways and outdoors where people can interact. The large gym room is the centre of the Zhineng qigong practice at the school. The room is entered through the male or female dressing rooms, where the showers are located. Entering the gym room is usually done with a particular mindset that focuses on regulating the body and preparing it for practice. This mindset can be acquired by sitting or standing with closed eyes, doing a warm-up exercise consisting of repeated hand movements, or performing parts of the exercise currently under practice. The floor in the large gym room is marked with small pieces of sticky tape; each person has her or his own place in a row, and there are several rows beside each other. It is important—and sometimes mildly stressed by the practitioners—that everyone, especially newcomers, must maintain their distance and stand in line. Keeping this distance is significant for enhancing

Fig. 1  Map of the school

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

149

the qi field. It is also important to prevent the room from undergoing transverse and rapid shifts in temperature, especially during winter, because these are thought to affect qi negatively. During the summer course, there is what Arnold van Gennep calls a territorial passage (“le passage materiel”) that is marked by the enrolment at the main building, the accommodation in gendered sleeping rooms, and the entrance to the gym room (cf. van Gennep 2019, 192): the further in you get and the more thresholds you cross, the holier the place gets. A culmination is reached during the sessions with Dong-Yue Su, who has gained his charisma and authority in turn through Pang Ming. A separation phase is marked by the fact that mobile phones are not allowed in the area (especially not in the gym room), the clothing worn are training clothes, and people stand in strict formal rows of unison qigong practice. A specific emotional regime characterized by a calm, respectful, and patient atmosphere most of the time, mixed with crying and stronger emotional outbursts at other times, is ritually produced and embodied at the school and is most evident in the gym room (Riis & Woodhead 2010). In Pierre Guiraud’s social semiotics, social signs such as names, clothes, hairstyles, and make-up indicate group affiliation, while behavioural signs (i.e., tone of voice, greetings, and courtesy) indicate the relationship between individuals (Grehn 2020, 54; Aston and Savona 1991, 99). During the summer course, professional clothes, make-up, and perfumes are removed in favour of soft, loose-fitting training clothes. Some practitioners also use special qigong shoes, which are imported from China and sold by the group. Thus, the practitioners wear similar kinds of clothes, creating a group affiliation and community. Furthermore, there is a distinction (behavioural signs) between the leaders and the other practitioners, with Dong-Yue Su being the obvious central figure. One’s ability (gong fu), how long one has been training, and the effects of the training can also be status-enhancing. In the gym room, status is marked by placing the leaders face to face with the practitioners or at the back of the row. Dong-Yue Su is treated differently from the other leaders and practitioners; he has his own room (see Fig. 1), his own entrance to the dining room where he inspects and takes food first, and his own table; in addition, he sometimes receives visits by appointment. Otherwise, Dong-Yue Su does not mix with the other leaders and practitioners, such as during evening chats in the living area. A sense of egalitarian belonging is occasionally expressed during the course, which resembles the liminal phase of communitas. As Grimes says,

150 

D. ENSTEDT

“During the liminal phase, the status system allows for communitas (a temporary nest of face-to-face, nonhierarchical relations), creating the necessary social and psychological conditions in which transformation can happen” (Grimes 2014, 202). Unlike the normally structured, hierarchical, and differentiated society, the liminal phase of communitas is, as Victor Turner puts it in his classical The Ritual Process (1969), characterized by “an unstructured or rudimentarily structured and relatively undifferentiated comitatus, community, or even communion of equal individuals who submit together to the general authority of the ritual elders” (Turner 2008, 96). During the summer course, Dong-Yue Su holds the “the general authority of the ritual elders”. There is no doubt that qigong is more of a normative communitas than a spontaneous one, since it is about habituation, physical and mental self-regulation, and the control of desires. Even though the summer course involves some (monastic) social isolation, the purpose is not to distance oneself from the world but rather to live in it and set a good example. The Zhineng qigong practices are symbolic and formalistic, non-­ chaotic, although they can trigger strong emotional and bodily reactions in the gym room. The qigong practice is primarily aimed at increasing qi in the body and in the room in order to change one’s own state (of health), rather than to promote societal change. Based on Catharine Bell’s discussion on Roy Rappaport’s distinction between ritual and liturgical order, it can be concluded that qigong is a liturgical order that involves a predetermined sequences of actions and speech, [is] best seen as predominantly “canonical”; that is, the messages encoded in [it] are invariant and impersonal, concerned with the universal and the eternal, and thereby invested with elaborate property. (Bell 2009, 176)

This does not mean that “self-referential performances” or elements are completely excluded from the liturgical order; rather, it means that the emphasis is on the canonical. However, during the regulation of qi that occurs at the end of the afternoon sessions, Dong-Yue Su assumes a somewhat different role in which the paranormal qigong described earlier is more evident. This shift is also marked by the rearrangement of the gym room, as all the attendees take a chair and sit in close rows in front of him. After relaxing and regulating the body, Dong-Yue Su mentions the limbs and internal organs of the body in order, saying “pain disappear, disease disappear” to the organs and limbs (the brain, the liver, the knee, etc.).

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

151

Dong-Yue Su’s special ability to increase qi (the good power) and thereby obliterate and eliminate disease and impurity (the evil power) is thus expressed during the regulation of qi (see Girard 2013, 327). In other words, Zhineng qigong includes both liturgy-centred and performance-­ centred rituals (Humphrey and Laidlaw 1994), where “performance-centred rituals (found in shamanic or initiative situations) [and] liturgy-centred rituals (such as appear in the scriptural religions)” (Grimes 2014, 200) are both present during the summer course, although not at the same time. It is evident that Zhineng qigong’s liturgy-centred rituals consist of controlled, repeated, unified, and precise movement patterns. They are about doing the right thing (orthopraxy) rather than believing the right thing (orthodoxy), and about being able to produce, experience, and feel qi in the body (cf. Bell 2009, 171). Qigong practice contains healing and health-enhancing rituals. However, the gym room is not the only place that is an important part of the summer course and qigong practice; various mundane tasks also play a part. Kitchen service, cleaning, and door keeping are other parts of the qigong practice, which can be combined with various qigong exercises. According to Roy Rappaport (1999), a ritual is a central human activity that generates other human activities. It is the hub of social production. Formal acceptance of what Rappaport calls the “ultimate sacred postulate” through participation in a ritual does not indicate a substantial belief or functional acceptance (Rappaport 1999, 283). Accordingly, in Zhineng qigong, the ultimate sacred postulate (qi) is socially produced in the qigong ritual and does not depend on the practitioners’ beliefs. This invariable production and repetition gives qi a constant and ahistorical character (cf. Rappaport 1999, 285–286). Furthermore, Grimes argues that it is important to distinguish between ritual intentions, ritual effects, and ritual functions (Grimes 2014, 301). While the intention with qigong may be to heal, the effect can be the opposite, causing suffering, wounds, and pain, and the function may be the constitutive aspects of qigong. To be able to discern different types of intentions, effects, and functions of qigong practice, I will now turn to how the practitioners narrate their experiences with qigong practice.

152 

D. ENSTEDT

Experiencing and Narrating Qigong Many of the narratives about European Zhineng qigong that I have encountered during fieldwork, online, and in different media describe a situation of physical disease or psychological distress in which the established healthcare was unable to help—or at least, not sufficiently. Some narratives mention diseases such as pernicious anaemia, multiple sclerosis, and chronic fatigue syndrome; others include work-related injuries from which the neck, shoulders, and back are in pain. Depression and psychiatric diseases are also mentioned. Hedda’s online narrative follows a common pattern. She describes her bad health during childhood, with numerous infections and a substantial amount of sick leave from school; eventually, she was diagnosed with an illness that would demand lifelong medical treatment. Hedda writes: The doctor said I would have to take syringes for the rest of my life, something I could not accept, which was why I went to another doctor for a second opinion. She came to the same conclusion and said that this is like being born without an arm—it will not eventually grow in. (Hedda 2021; author’s translation)

Hedda came into contact with Zhineng qigong a couple of years after her diagnosis, but did not start practicing on a regular basis until 2011, after she received two whiplash injuries. After a longer qigong course, she felt as if “someone stuck a hand in my neck and moved around among the muscles. I got taller and was able to get my head up over my body for the first time in 10 years without lifting my sternum very much” (Hedda 2021). Upon returning to the physician in the following autumn, the tests showed that Hedda’s disease had disappeared and that she no longer needed the injections. Although this had been considered impossible, the physician told Hedda: “If I do not believe the test results, I should not be a doctor!” (Hedda 2021). The individual narratives vary, but recurring themes are expressed by the practitioners of Zhineng qigong, in which qigong practice appears to affect the person in a positive direction, beyond what other practices or established healthcare could. Although such narratives accept the general biomedical diagnosis and the measurement methods aligned with it, they also articulate a severe criticism of medical ability to cure diverse illnesses. The medical doctor’s stunned statement at the end of Hedda’s narrative is

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

153

emblematic of the narratives, as it confirms—at least indirectly—that qigong works, however miraculously. Importantly, then, the narratives of the Zhineng qigong group are not only personal illness narratives, so-­ called autopathographies; they are also healing narratives (Smith and Watson 2010; Turner 2006; Kleinman 1988). These healing narratives both confirm and legitimize the practice through personal narratives or testemonios (Beverley 2003, 320). They are miracle stories in which the protagonist is freed, or at least gets better, from a (sometimes incurable) disease. Other practitioners’ experiences and narratives are a sign, template, and goal for each practitioner’s own journey towards better health, in which obtaining health is merged with finding a home in qigong (cf. Hawkins 1999; Bernhardsson 2010, 33; Enstedt 2014, 42–47). The hopeful and utopian aspects of paranormal qigong, as described by Palmer (2007, 102), are a key part of these narratives, in which hope of the seemingly impossible—getting better, or even being cured—is being fulfilled through the practice of qigong, the presence of Dong-Yue Su’s gong fu, and the collective qi field. One theme in the interviewees’ narratives concerns routines and places for practice. Several interviewees have a particular place in their home, and sometimes at work, where they do their daily qigong routine. Even though qigong is practiced with closed eyes, the place of practice is often decorated with artefacts from the group, such as a painting with the text “harmony” written in Chinese calligraphy and a qi comb, which is a special comb used for a qigong exercise. Sonja practises qigong in her bedroom. Her morning routine is the qi comb exercise and EasyCare: Eyes—a short practice developed by Dong-­ Yue Su focusing on the acupuncture around the eye—followed by arm training, in what is usually referred to as the “snake arm”, since the arms move repeatedly horizontally like a snake. These are followed by La Qi—a more static, meditative exercise—Shenxin qigong and is completed by regulating qi. The last three exercises are done following a CD’s instructions. Most practitioners describe similar routines, although there are some variations. Tove, for example, practises regularly with her childhood friend in a bedroom at home; they lie down on the bed together, perform qi regulation, and have small talk after the training. As another example, one of Ingrid’s routines is to practice La Qi in the bathtub, while taking a bath. Another theme concerns the effects of qigong. Sonja says that she has found a home in Zhineng qigong after several years of searching and

154 

D. ENSTEDT

trying other types of spiritual practices. One of the effects is that she has “found a balance in life” and listens to her body’s signals when it comes to food, alcohol, and more general behaviour. Qigong has helped her to move into “good circles” and to live a moderate life. Sonja reflects the imperative of Dong-Yue Su, that we should “eat 80 percent”, as an encouragement to follow the virtue “do not revel”. Ingrid started practicing qigong more than twenty years ago due to chronic fatigue syndrome and has managed to become calmer through the meditative elements of the qigong practice. It was another experience, however, that affected her the most. During her first two-day course, Ingrid encountered another practitioner who had managed to cure his multiple sclerosis through qigong. His story had a deep impact on her and, when she got cancer several years later, she turned to qigong again, saying “I won’t allow it [the cancer] to ride me”. Ingrid made a relatively quick recovery, undergoing chemotherapy. According to Ingrid, qigong helped her through the cancer treatment; she also mentions the positive effect that qigong has had on her immune system.8 After the interview, Ingrid emailed me another example of the positive effects of qigong, concluding: “The healthcare staff down there [at the hospital] also thought ‘absolutely incredible’. Thanks to Qigong, everything went really well” (email from Ingrid; author’s translation). This is a common theme when practitioners narrate the effects of qigong: through qigong practices, the narrator manages to overcome troublesome times or experiences, such as invasive medical treatment, while the people—friends, family, and healthcare staff—around the narrator are stunned by the effects of qigong. There are examples of narratives about distance healing, including some of Dong-Yue Su’s narratives during the summer course. Ingrid tells of a qigong trip she made to a country by the Mediterranean. A participant’s daughter-in-law was seriously ill at home; however, the daughter-in-law could feel in her body when the participants practiced La Qi and thought about her, which became the turning point on her path to recovery. Magdalena, another interviewee, says that she can feel the presence of qi in others and in the qigong leaders. She has also practiced healing on her cat and claims having healed the cat of a kidney disease. A third theme is spiritual: experiencing qi in the body. Sonja describes her experiences of qi as “the source of life” and “as a burning sensation in the palm of the hand”; she has also seen qi as a sort of phantasm. Signe says that she has seen qi on several occasions during practice as a strong white-yellow glow, even though her eyes were closed; however, when she

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

155

opened her eyes, it was grey outside, and there was no sun. She has also experienced qi in the form of warmth in her feet and in her body and as a tingling between her hands when she does La Qi. Signe can discuss her feelings and experiences of qigong with her qigong friends but says that it is difficult to do so with others. Ingrid mentions experiences of qi, seeing light, and feeling heat. When she explains how qi feels in the body, she says “I can feel very hot or start to freeze”. Ingrid also mentions the healing effects of practicing qigong; for instance, her rheumatism has disappeared. To gain these results, Ingrid stresses the importance of “hav[ing] confidence, believ[ing] in it”. She does not want to use the terms “religious” or “spiritual”; rather, she says that the effects of the practice are difficult to explain. Several other interviewees, including Helena, stress the importance of having confidence in qigong, listening to others’ positive experiences, and doing the exercises regularly. Aisha is a practicing Muslim who also practises qigong. When she showed salah (Muslim prayer) to Dong-­ Yue Su, he told her that it was qigong; for Aisha, this supported her combination of practices. In a similar manner, Karin compares qi regulation with prayer and answers to prayers. She emphasizes the importance of the qi field and writes a “thanksgiving diary”. While some of the interviewees—such as Ingrid and Magdalena—say that they have no problem with “the spiritual”, others, such as Tove, who positions herself as an agnostic, think that they should remove the “fuzziness” and that Dong-Yue Su’s lectures are too extensive, sometimes giving a frivolous impression. Tove thinks that it would be better to focus on the practice. It is worth noting that these interviewees have invested a substantial amount of time over a long period of practicing qigong (cf. Stolz 2016, 21–27). Without exception, they represent the most experienced and committed practitioners in the group, helping and recruiting newcomers and supporting each other. Many of the interviewees participate frequently in the first-level beginner weekend course in “Hold Qi Up” that is offered many times a year in the Nordic countries. At these courses, as I described at the beginning of this chapter, more experienced practitioners, such as the interviewed practitioners, help newcomers with the movements and take the opportunity to practice and be part of a qi field. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the narratives of the long-term practitioners testify to the effects of qigong practice on health and wellbeing, as well as contributing to the meaningfulness of the interviewees’ life. Some have tried other types of practices, such as yoga, mindfulness, meditation, Sai Baba, and various types of massage and spa treatment, before finding their home in Zhineng

156 

D. ENSTEDT

qigong. Others have not been on a spiritual journey but have instead tried various health practices such as rehab and physiotherapy, psychological treatments for stress or chronic fatigue syndrome, or chronic diseases or allergies; still others have had traumatic experiences in their past. These personal life stories and their embodied relation to the non-­ personal notion of the eternal and metaphysical character of qi are worth exploring further. The lack of qi in our bodies is thought to cause illness and various diseases, while the increase of qi—preferably through using the effective techniques of Zhineng qigong—brings the possibility of removing any type of physical problem. The quality of qi may incarnate itself through the correct bodily movement of the practitioner and heal her or him. Effective healing demands correct instructions and ability from the leaders, paired with the practitioner’s effort and correct intention in everyday practice. Being within a qi field will also help to increase qi in the body. The central healing aspect of qigong practice that is expressed in the described narratives can be viewed as “rites of affliction” that “attempt to rectify a state of affairs that has been disturbed or disordered; they heal, exorcise, protect, and purify” (Bell 2009, 115). Qi is understood as life— or a life force—that fills a sick, weak person with a power that holds the potential to wipe out any illness and disease. Through qigong, one can become a better, healthier, and happier person. Miracle stories are often retold during qigong courses, such as a story about a man with multiple sclerosis getting well or about a deaf-mute girl starting to talk during a course. There are also expressions of disappointment; as one of the participants expressed during an evaluation after a summer course, “I hear about the results everyone else gets, but nothing happens to me”. Not everyone seems to achieve the utopian goals of qigong, even after a long-term and dedicated practice. Negative experiences and disappointments are rarely expressed by the practitioners, however; the general narrative pattern about the experiences of qigong follows the genre of a healing narrative and, at times, a miracle narrative, aligned with the paranormal qigong at the heart of the Hunyuan Entirety Theory in Zhineng qigong.

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

157

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries Zhineng qigong was developed by Pang Ming during the qigong boom in China in the 1980s and was brought to Sweden by Ming’s pupil, Dong-­ Yue Su, in 1993, who established European Zhineng qigong there. The political tension between the Chinese Communist Party and various qigong groups in China set a limit on Zhineng qigong’s possible development in China; in the Nordic countries, there is no equivalent explicit tension between qigong, the law, and politics. The reception of Zhineng qigong in Sweden displays certain characteristics. Even though many of the narratives, as I have shown above, describe a healing that could be perceived as magical or miraculous, the emphasis in European Zhineng qigong in the Nordic countries is on wellbeing and retaining health. In short, there is a downplaying of the spiritual and magical aspects of qigong and, instead, a “reframing of qigong as a healing art and science” rather than magic and religion—similar to what has happened in China (Chen 2003, 65). Although the discourse in the more theoretical writings of Pang Ming and others—especially concerning paranormal abilities by which the body can disappear at will or not be damaged, or a broken bone (or egg) can be instantly mended—is present in the practitioners’ narratives and occasionally during Dong-Yue Su’s lectures, it is downplayed on Zhineng qigong’s homepage, Facebook, information sheets, and media referrals. Instead, the repeated emphasis is on practice and results, not the teachings per se. Zhineng qigong is not first and foremost an intellectual endeavour; rather, it is a practical and ritual undertaking that demands an investment of time, effort, and trust in the practice. To put it differently, Zhineng qigong is orthopraxy rather that orthodoxy—a shift that has been emblematic of many new expressions of religion and spirituality in contemporary Western society (Hornborg 2012; Bell 2009, 171). Nevertheless, it is important to stress that Zhineng qigong—in contrast to what is sometimes referred to as a Westernized, individualized “New Age” spirituality or Sheilaism (Bellah 1996)—is not about self-expression, eclecticisms, variations, or improvisation. It is not an expression of the “subjective turn” in Western “Me-societies” (Enstedt 2015; Stolz 2016), but rather a new form of collective liturgical practice. The group stresses the importance of practicing the qigong movements in a proper way, and the practice is very formalized, with no room for

158 

D. ENSTEDT

improvisation or self-expression. Even minor differences from the ideal forms are corrected during practice by the leaders, teachers, or other practitioners. To achieve the desired results—that is, bodily, spiritual, and mental wellbeing—one must submit to and follow the prescribed movements as perfectly as possible; and, to do that, one should partake in the courses offered by the qigong group. The summer course habituates the qigong followers collectively, reinforcing and legitimizing the ideas, narratives, and practices that constitute the group. In Linda Woodhead and Paul Heelas’ now classical The Spiritual Revolution (2005), a key distinction is made between internal and external religious authority. A group can either follow externally given rules and roles or base its practice on the adherents’ “inner feelings, convictions, and judgements” (Heelas and Woodhead 2005, 61). It should be clear by now that the practice of Zhineng qigong follows externally given rules and roles, even though there are some expressions of internal authority in the variations mentioned in the interviews. Furthermore, an explicit authority is embodied by Dong-Yue Su and the idea and experiences of his knowledge and gong fu, as well as by teachers that are close to Dong-Yue Su and are considered by him to inherit or partake in his authority. Another aspect of Zhineng qigong is a perennial understanding of qigong as the essence of religion, even though qigong is seldom attributed the term “religion”. In the narrative about qigong as the essence of religion, the world’s religions are portrayed as different houses, each with its own well running deep down underground to a common source. Zhineng qigong enables the practitioner to obtain direct access to the source—to the qi—without the use of religions or religious institutions. As the metaphor makes clear, this is not a criticism of established religion, but rather an acceptance that they have access to qi, even though their access is not as efficient as Zhineng qigong. As David A. Palmer and Alijah Siegler put it in Dream Trippers: Global Daoism and the Predicament of Modern Spirituality (2017): The world of alternative spiritualities expresses the laity’s desire to reclaim a direct access to spiritual experience, through mastery of spiritual technologies outside the boundaries and control of religious institutions. This milieu also rejects the radical disenchantment of secularity, seeking “alternative” techniques and philosophies that can reenchant the self, the body, and the cosmos in a modern context. (Palmer and Siegler 2017, 93)

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

159

Similar to the description in this quote, regardless of the label of “alternative spiritualities”, the Zhineng qigong claims to give practitioners this direct access; however, there is a paradoxical component: namely, the necessity of the group, the leaders (especially Dong-Yue Su’s gong fu), and the collective qi field to achieve the desired results. The healing experiences and narratives depicted here are to be understood, I suggest, as personal testimonies by people who have submitted to the qigong movement’s directives and calls on how to live life and practise qigong. The reception of Zhineng qigong is an expression of a turn towards an increasingly “We-sociability”—even a new form of neo-­ tribalism—in a larger societal change that has been framed as a more individualized turn to a “Me-society” (Stolz 2016; Maffesoli 1996). The neo-tribal “We-sociability” of Zhineng qigong is most evident in its summer course, while other variations occur in everyday practice by its practitioners.

Notes 1. All quotes from practitioners and teachers come from fieldnotes made during the fieldwork. 2. This project was ethically approved by the Ethics Review Authority (Dnr 2019-05406). 3. Before 2001, there were controversies around Falun Gong in China and the in media, concerning criticism of the “pseudo-science” of different qigong schools (Palmer 2007; Chen 2003). The tension between the Chinese Communist Party and the qigong sector in China led Pang Ming to organize a two-day conference on the theme of “How to use Marxist philosophy to guide the development of qigong” and, by doing so, showed his loyalty to the regime (Palmer 2007, 180). 4. In Later Methods Zhineng Qigong and Taiji (2014a), Pang Ming presents many other shorter methods, along with exercises with a Taiji ball. In that book, the instructions said by the teacher during the practice of the other methods are also published. In Wu Yuan Zhuang (2014b), the third-level form of Zhineng Qigong is presented: the Five Hunyuan Form. 5. The qi comb course is offered as a special course during the summer and winter courses. 6. I participated at the summer course in 2018 and 2019, before the Covid pandemic. 7. Many of the implicit or explicit rules of Zhineng qigong resemble central Buddhist rules. For example, the rule of abstaining from a high sleeping

160 

D. ENSTEDT

place is the last rule of the eight precepts for lay devotees. Although similar rules exist in Daoism, I hesitate to categorize Zhineng qigong as Daoism or Buddhism (see discussion below concerning the group’s own emic understanding of “religion”). 8. Several publications have published a list of what Zhineng qigong is able to cure, called “Treatment effectiveness analysis” (see Hin 2010, 561–567). In addition, various videos on YouTube present instant healing (https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=NwAIh-­iYQUQ&t=95s accessed 13 Oct 22) and the removal of cancerous tumours (https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=bpBA8giwKY0&t=46s accessed 13 Oct 22).

References Adams, Tony E., Stacy Linn Holman Jones, and Carolyn Ellis. 2015. Autoethnography. New York: Oxford University Press. Adams, Tony E., Robin M. Boylorn, and Lisa M. Tillmann. 2021. Advances in Autoethnography and Narrative Inquiry: Reflections on the Legacy of Carolyn Ellis and Arthur Bochner. London/New York: Routledge. Ammerman, Nancy Tatom. 2021. Studying Lived Religion: Contexts and Practices. New York: New York University Press. Aston, Elaine, and George Savona. 1991. Theatre as Sign-System: A Semiotics of Text and Performance. London: Routledge. Bell, Catherine M. 2009. Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bellah, Robert Neelly. 1996. Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life. Berkeley: University of California Press. Bernhardsson, Katarina. 2010. Litterära besvär: skildringar av sjukdom i samtida svensk prosa. PhD Dissertation, Lund University, Lund. Beverley, John. 2003. Testimonio, Subalternity, and Narrative Authority. In Strategies of Qualitative Inquiry, ed. Norman K. Denzin and Yvonna S. Lincoln, 319–335. Thousand Oaks/London or New Delhi: SAGE Publications. Chan, Hou Hee. 2002. Chi-Lel™ Qigong: Body and Mind Method. Rocklin: Benefactor Press. Chen, Nancey N. 2003. Breathing Spaces. Qigong, Psychiatry, and Healing in China. New York: Columbia University Press. Crowther, Susan, Pam Ironside, Deb Spence, and Liz Smythe. 2017. Crafting Stories in Hermeneutic Phenomenology Research: A Methodological Device. Qualitative Health Research 27: 826–835. Enstedt, Daniel. 2014. Naeemas dröm. Självbiografiskt stoff och kvinnliga apostaters islamkritik på nätet. In Personligt talat: Biografiska perspektiv i humaniora, ed. Maria Sjöberg, 35–51. Göteborg: Makadam.

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

161

———. 2015. Sleepwalkers and Higher Selves. The Mediatisation of “Personality” and “Essence” in Online Enneagram Teachings. In Annual Review of the Sociology of Religion. Vol. 6, Religion and Internet, ed. Daniel Enstedt, Göran Larsson, and Enzo Pace, 48–65. Leiden: Brill. Enstedt, Daniel, and Katarina Plank. 2018. Levd religion: det heliga i vardagen. Lund: Nordic Academic Press. ———. 2021. Utövad och utlärd religion. Levd religion: praktiker i vardagen och didaktiska perspektiv. FLR:s årsbok 2021, 52: 11–36. Girard, René. 2013. Violence and the Sacred. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, an Imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc. Goossaert, Vincent, and David A. Palmer. 2011. The Religious Question in Modern China. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Grehn, Sandra. 2020. Dom stökar och bråkar och kastar sten: iscensättning och hybridisering av dominerande diskurser i Backa teaters uppsättningar Lille kung Mattias, Gangs of Gothenburg och 5boys.com. PhD Dissertation, Göteborg University, Göteborg. Grimes, Ronald L. 2014. The Craft of Ritual Studies. New  York: Oxford University Press. Gu, Mingtong. 2011. Wisdom Healing (Zhineng) Qigong. Cultivate Wisdom and Energy for Health, Healing and Happiness. The Chi Center: Petaluma, CA. Harrington, Anne. 2008. The Cure Within: A History of Mind-Body Medicine. New York: W.W. Norton & Co. Harrison, Anthony Kwame. 2018. Ethnography. New York: Oxford University Press. Hawkins, Anne Hunsaker. 1999. Reconstructing Illness: Studies in Pathography. 2nd ed. West Lafayette: Purdue University Press. Hedda. 2021. https://zhinengqigong.eu/sv/carolinas-­perniciosa-­anemi-­och-­ tva-­whiplashskador-­laktes-­med-­zhineng-­qigong/. Accessed 5 Nov 2022. Heelas, Paul, and Linda Woodhead. 2005. The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion is Giving Way to Spirituality. Malden: Blackwell. Hin, Ooi Kean. 2010. Zhineng Qigong. The Science, Theory and Practice. Penang: Island Zhineng Qigong Centre. ———. 2011. Zhineng Qigong Q & A …Answers to 578 Questions about Qigong Practice. Penang: Island Zhineng Qigong Centre. Holman Jones, Linn Stacy, Tony E. Adams, and Carolyn Ellis. 2013. Handbook of Autoethnography. Walnut Creek: Left Coast Press, Inc. Hornborg, Anne-Christine. 2012. Coaching och lekmannaterapi: en modern väckelse? Stockholm: Dialogos. Humphrey, Caroline, and James Alexander Laidlaw. 1994. The Archetypal Actions of Ritual: A Theory of Ritual Illustrated by the Jain Rite of Worship. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Jin, Xiaoguang, and Joseph Marcello. 1999. Life More Abundant. The Science of Zhineng Qigong Principles and Practice. Pronounced the Most Effective Health-­

162 

D. ENSTEDT

Enchancing [sic] Qigong in China by the Chinese Sports Bureau. Haverford: Buy Books on the Web.com. Kleinman, Arthur. 1988. The Illness Narratives: Suffering, Healing, and the Human Condition. New York: Basic Books. Liu, Yuantong. 2007. Basic Theories and Methods of Zhineng Qigong. Opening the Power of the Mind for Health, Healing, Wisdom, and Balance. Meishan: Zhineng Qigong Society. Maffesoli, Michel. 1996. The Time of the Tribes: The Decline of Individualism in Mass Society. London: Sage. McGuire, Meredith B. 2008. Lived Religion: Faith and Practice in Everyday Life. New York: Oxford University Press. Ming, Pang. 1994. Hunyuan Entirety Theory. The Foundation of Qigong Science. Trans. Wei Qi Feng and Steve Merrick. Daohearts.com. https://www.daohearts.com/downloads/book-­hunyuan-­entirety-­theory-­the-­foundation-­of-­ qigong-­science/. Accessed 3 Feb 2021. ———. 2013. The Methods of Zhineng Qigong Science. Trans. Wei Qi Feng and Patricia Fraser. Wellington: PrintStop. ———. 2014a. Later Methods Zhineng Qigong and Taiji. Trans. Wei Qi Feng and Patricia Fraser. Wellington: PrintStop. ———. 2014b. Wu Yuan Zhuang. Trans. Liu Lily, Zhineng Qigong. www. zhineng.com [This Book Lacks Information About the Date and Place of Publication; the Date Is Given in the Translator’s Foreword]. ———. 2016. Paranormal Abilities. The Techniques of Zhineng Qigong Science. Trans. Wei Qi Feng and Patricia Fraser. Wellington: Printing.com. Palmer, David A. 2007. Qigong Fever: Body, Science, and Utopia in China. New York: Columbia University Press. Palmer, David A., and Elijah Siegler. 2017. Dream Trippers: Global Daoism and the Predicament of Modern Spirituality. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Rappaport, Roy A. 1999. Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity. Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press. Riis, Ole, and Linda Woodhead. 2010. A Sociology of Religious Emotion. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Smith, Sidonie, and Julia Watson. 2010. Reading Autobiography: A Guide for Interpreting Life Narratives. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Stausberg, Michael. 2011. Religion and Tourism: Crossroads, Destinations, and Encounters. New York: Routledge. Stolz, Jörg. 2016. (Un)believing in Modern Society: Religion, Spirituality, and Religious-Secular Competition. Abingdon: Routledge. Turner, Edith L.B. 2006. Among the Healers: Stories of Spiritual and Ritual Healing around the World. Westport: Praeger Publishers. Turner, Victor. 2008. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. New Brunswick: Aldine Transaction.

  EMBODYING QI IN THE NORDIC COUNTRIES: THE HEALING PRACTICES… 

163

van Gennep, Arnold. 2019. The Rites of Passage. 2nd ed. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Zhineng qigong. 2022a. Our Teachers. European Zhineng Qigong. https:// zhinengqigong.eu/en/our-­teachers/. Accessed 3 Feb 2022. ———. 2022b. Our Exercises. European Zhineng Qigong. https://zhinengqigong.eu/en/our-­exercises/. Accessed 3 Feb 2022.

Aikido’s Spirituality and Transplantation in the Nordic Countries: Spirituality in the Asian Martials Art Tuomas Martikainen and Kimi Kärki

In this chapter we focus on the Japanese martial art of Aikido (合 気 道), which has a reputation of being more spiritual than most other arts (Little 2018, 92–93). Despite focusing on its reception in Nordic countries, we emphasize its connection to Japan. There Aikido is counted among the modernized martial arts that have been created after the Meiji Restoration in 1868, including the better-known Judo and Karate. Before focusing to Aikido, we will briefly discuss the wider context of Asian martial arts, especially as they are witnessed and imagined in the Western world.

T. Martikainen (*) Swedish School of Social Science, University of Helsinki, Helsinki, Finland e-mail: [email protected] K. Kärki Cultural Study of Music, Sibelius Academy, University of the Arts Helsinki, Helsinki, Finland e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_8

165

166 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

Martial arts are armed or unarmed combat systems and traditions that have been developed for civilian, law enforcement, and military purposes around the world. Technically they focus with varying emphasis on strikes, grappling, and use of arms against one or more attackers. Many of these arts include ethical, moral, spiritual, or religious elements that are incorporated into their training methods, though most martial arts primarily focus on technical skill and physical exercise. Some East Asian martial arts are particularly associated with religion, including Daoism and Zen Buddhism (Donohue 1994; Facal and Chircop-Reyes 2022). Some Asian martial arts, mostly variants of jiu jitsu, gained an early following in the West—by “West” we particularly refer to Europe and the USA, and realize the discursive and partly historically imaginary nature of this “orientalist” dichotomy (see Said 2012, 14–16)—at the turn of the twentieth century due to international migration and other transnational connections with East Asia, but this remained a marginal phenomenon. Many Westerners, primarily US military personnel, learned martial arts in Asian countries during and in the aftermath of the Second World War and the Korean War, where after they started to teach these arts in their home countries. Starting from the 1950s, arts such as Judo, Karate and some varieties of Kung Fu became well known, to be followed by many others in the following decades (Donohue 1994). Today, we can find dozens of different martial arts and hundreds of their styles and splinter groups around the world, as well as a great number of new styles, including the now popular “mixed martial arts.” Popular culture, especially television and movies, popularized Asian martial arts for wider Western audiences. In this imaginary realm, the martial arts are epitomized by the figure of a male, solitary, and ascetic martial art master, who possesses self-discipline, (esoteric) wisdom, and almost non-human powers and martial skills. Well-known cultural figures associated with martial prowess and alleged spiritual leanings include the Chinese Shaolin monks and the Japanese samurai (Donohue 1994; Bowman 2015). Asian martial arts have been greatly transformed by their change of cultural habitat, including the emergence of mass instruction and competition related to modern sport culture as well as by their commodification to a leisure-time activity (Bowman 2015). Within this overall change, we find various strategies of adaptation, ranging from proactive transformation to efforts to conserve traditional practices (e.g., Cynarski et al. 2015; Facal and Chircop-Reyes 2022). One noteworthy aspect of the cultural transmission of post-WWII Asian martial arts to the West is that the initial

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

167

transmitters, often relatively young military personnel, usually—with notable exceptions of Donn F. Draeger (1922–1982) and Robert W. Smith (1926–2011)—lacked linguistic skills to fully understand the more abstract teachings of their newly learned arts. As the popularity of these arts grew, numerous native “martial missionaries” were sent overseas from Japan, Korea, and other countries, who were regularly equally incompetent in more abstract linguistic transmission. Thereby, much of the religious and spiritual transmission was not possible in any complexity. With religious content, we refer to more organized forms, often taught separately, and spiritual refers to the content that is more closely associated with the martial arts’ practices and philosophies. Moreover, the historical authority structures of transmission that were based in respective origin country’s culture, were often strained in diaspora and in many instances totally broken, and the newly introduced arts became somewhat independent of their origins (Donohue 1994). The cultural-linguistic transmission and translation bottleneck of the martial arts’ spiritual and religious contents was replaced by a relatively small number of individuals, who provided information about different arts and their spiritual ideas and practices in Western languages. One of these key individuals was the Japanese-American Buddhist monk and scholar D. T. Suzuki (1870–1966), who wrote several English language books on Zen Buddhism. It has been argued that part of Suzuki’s success was based on his own interest in Western Esotericism, including Swedenborgianism and Theosophy, whereby his conceptualizations were easier to recognize and accept (Tweed 2005). Similarly, Taisen Deshumaru (1914–1982), the founder of the Association Zen Internationale cited European philosophers such as Michel de Montaigne, René Descartes, and Henri Bergson as people who understood Zen without knowing it. The postwar counter-cultural era was also otherwise a time for spiritual experimentation with a great variety of spiritual and religious movements in the Western countries (e.g., Roof 1999). For example, John J. Donohue (1994, 14) notes that one US martial arts instructor used Carlos Castaneda’s The Teachings of Don Juan as an example of Asian martial art philosophy, though the book supposedly deals with American Indian Shamanism. Gradually some foundational manuals and other important original language commentaries of various arts were translated—such as Budo by Morihei Ueshiba (1938/1991)—and many senior Western practitioners wrote more sophisticated introductory manuals to their arts. Still, most of

168 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

the early texts available to Western audiences circulated ideas that were based on a very limited number of original sources, many of which were mixed with hagiographic elements, and imaginaries from popular culture and movies. It took a long time, before the linguistic skills and growing scholarship allowed for a more nuanced understanding of the arts that had more spiritual leanings, such as Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu and its descendant Aikido. Therefore, we claim that to fully appreciate the complexities of the spiritual and religious aspects of Asian martial arts in Western societies, they should be looked at equally as products of Western popular culture and spiritual movements as well as their original Asian sources (see also, Cynarski et al. 2015). For many interested in a spiritual and philosophical understanding of martial arts’ roots, it was the publications of Donn F. Draeger, an American amateur researcher with military background and decades of dedicated training in a variety of martial arts, that provided a more nuanced view of the Asian martial heritage (e.g., Draeger 1973a, b, 1974). The first academic journal dedicated to the topic was the Journal of Asian Martial Arts (1999–2012) and it helped to create an academic community around the topic. Since then, a new active research community has emerged around Martial Arts Studies journal (Cardiff University Press, 2015–) and its editors Paul Bowman and Benjamin Judkins. Bowman is actively reflecting the developments of the field and building a cross-disciplinary framework for it (2015, 1–18). Among the current new research leanings is a phenomenological interpretation on spirituality within martial arts (see Telles 2022; in Aikido context Hurtig 2016). We also welcome the wider discussion on martial arts, religion, and spirituality (see Facal and Chircop-Reyes 2022). In this chapter, we use the following theoretical debates to discuss spiritual aspects of martial arts. Firstly, we welcome the contribution of studies of contemporary spirituality, whereby societal subgroups, such as martial art groups, as well as individuals increasingly are both capable and resourceful to craft their own religious and spiritual lifeworld. Typical features of contemporary spirituality include individualism, eclecticism, and aiming for spiritual growth (e.g., Roof 1999; Heelas 2008). As Asian martial arts or their instructors seldomly provide a comprehensive spiritual worldview, as many Asian teachers tend to rather show than explain in detail, they are highly suitable for individualized, separated, original spiritual understandings (see, Cynarski et al. 2015). Second, postmodern theorists have looked cultural hybridization, whereby in globalized circumstances new cultural innovations are formed that cannot be deducted from their historical

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

169

origins and can show great cultural creativity (e.g., Pieterse 1995). We claim the Asian martial arts in the West contain elements of hybrid cultural practices and are examples of glocalized culture that include elements of country of origin, country of destination, and, at times, globally mediated culture (cf. Bowman 2015). Our chapter’s main focus, Aikido, has spread around the world since the 1950s and has had a following in the Nordic countries since the 1960s. Our chapter focuses on Aikido in the Nordic countries and the research questions are the following: What is history and contemporary situation of Aikido in the Nordic countries? What is role of spirituality and religion in Aikido? Has Aikido changed during its transplantation into the Nordic societies? For research material, we have interviewed four senior Aikido teachers in Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden, as well as used a variety of other original sources and research literature. The teachers provide an understanding on Aikido from a semi- or fully professional view, and their answers are informed by decades of practice, mostly as dedicated students of Japanese teachers. Thus, they provide a focused angle on the dissemination of the original Japanese teachings that regular students would struggle to have access to. The interviews were analyzed by thematic content analysis. For this chapter, we primarily use a simplified Romanization of Japanese terms, for example, Aikido instead of Aikidō, and capitalize honorific titles, such as Sensei (“teacher”).

Aikido and Its Spread Around the World Aikido (合 気 道) is a Japanese modern martial art (gendai budō), and often translated as “the way of unifying (with) life energy” or as “the way of harmonious spirit.” The aikidoka (practitioners of Aikido) train throwing, being thrown, and submission (wrist, elbow and arm locks, and chokes) techniques, and its principles include controlling the attackers’ power without permanently harming them. The ukemi, safe fall/exit from techniques, are practiced from the very beginning. Slightly more advanced aikidoka also practice weapon techniques, bare-handed defenses against an armed attacker, and techniques against multiple attackers. The weapons training has an important role in several Aikido styles. These are practiced with or against a jo (about 130 cm long wooden staff), bokken (a wooden sword modeled after the curved Japanese sword, katana), as well as tanto (Japanese knife). We agree with the marketing materials of many clubs that Aikido is suitable for everyone, regardless of fitness, height, weight, and

170 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

gender. Training gradually develops flexibility, mind-body coordination, and muscle fitness. No Aikido competitions are held in the mainline, that is, Aikikai Aikido (Ueshiba 1984). Aikido was founded by Japanese martial artist Morihei Ueshiba (1883–1969), also known as O-Sensei, “the great teacher.” He gradually developed Aikido from the 1920s to the post-World War II era, only including the spiraling armed and unarmed techniques from the Daito-­ ryu Aiki-jujutsu of his main teacher, the “last samurai” Takeda Sokaku (1859–1943), to his art. An important spiritual foundation for Ueshiba himself was the Neo-Shinto movement of Ō moto-kyō, esoteric Buddhism (Shingon Mikkyō, see Ikonen 2011) and, especially after World War II, the idea of protecting the opponent from injury. Ueshiba’s own paranormal experiences also influenced his arts, as well as his studies in several other Japanese martial arts. Aikido is not only focused on martial techniques, but its philosophical core, as defined by Ueshiba, is in the demand of strengthening your mind, seek the victory over yourself instead of others, and make the world a better place to live. Thus, Aikido has its roots in the areas of martial arts, Neo-Shintoism, and post-war Japanese pacifism (Ueshiba 1984; Stevens 1997). The religious and spiritual views of Morihei Ueshiba have been the focus of much debate and many publications (e.g., Shioda 2013; Ueshiba 1991; Stevens 1997; Aikiweb discussion forums; Aikido Sangenkai website). It seems evident that he was a person much invested in Shintoism and incorporated several ideas transmitted through Ō moto-kyō. Ueshiba’s own writings have a definitively religious tone. For example, in 1934 he wrote the following: I become completely transparent, the opponent is transformed into their ethereal body and I am possessed by my guardian spirit. The other person disappears and I am just attacked by their hands and form. The more that the other person’s Shugyo has progressed the greater their ethereal body and the guardian spirit, so I must also become greater. In any case, the state of my heart when facing an opponent is as transparent as a mirror, so in this state the other person’s spirit is perfectly reflected. (Miura 2015)

Representations of Morihei Ueshiba’s life in publications authorized by Aikikai, especially (1984, 1991) by his son Kisshomaru Ueshiba (1921–1999), the second Doshu (“Master of the Way”) of Aikikai, and others such as John Stevens (1997) bring forth O-Sensei’s alleged

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

171

miraculous deeds and great martial skills. Morihei Ueshiba is also generally portrayed as a bearded, saint-like figure, whose photo can be found in Aikido dojos around the world. However, the vast majority of his direct, influential students seem to tell a story in which they barely understood O-Sensei’s religious speeches and were primarily interested of the physical part. A student of Morihei Ueshiba, Yasuo Kobayashi reflects on the topic: Well I didn’t know about things such as the Kojiki, that was the problem. I was always eager for it to be over. There were some people who knew about those religious things but I didn’t so I just focused on working out. I couldn’t remember the names of all those gods. (Erard 2018)

Hence, it seems as no surprise that as Aikido spread around the world it took on a variety of spiritual interpretations that could be condensed to the following: non-competition, ethics of non-violent solutions to conflict, and some more or less vague (from a philosophical perspective) ideas of harmony with others or the universe. It seems even the case that under the tutelage of Kisshomaru Ueshiba, explicit religious connotations of Aikido were toned down, perhaps to make the art more accessible and acceptable for international audiences. At the same time, it appears that a lot of ideals attached to Aikido practice in the West are somewhat exoticized and romanticized in their psychological nature. A lot of theories on life force Ki, for example, are less discussed in the Japanese texts (Friedman 2005). Organizationally, the world of Aikido is rather complex with several international organizations and numerous national federations. Globally, the largest Aikido branch is the Aikikai that relates to the Ueshiba family. The Aikikai Foundation (Zaidan Ho ̄jin Aikikai) runs the Aikido World Headquarters (Hombu Dojo) in Tokyo, which is headed currently by the grandson of the founder, Moriteru Ueshiba (b. 1951). Its international arm is the International Aikido Federation, which has circa 250 affiliated federations around the world. There are also some other large Aikido organizations. The main ones are the Yoshinkan, founded by Gozo Shioda (1915–1994), Ki-Aikido, which emphasizes the strengthening of life energy, Ki, founded by Koichi Tohei (1920–2011) and Shodokan, partially inspired by Judo, founded by Kenji Tomiki (1900–1979). Shodokan is the only main Aikido style to include limited competition in its curriculum. What all styles have in common is a guided and collaborative training method that takes into account the level of the training partner. Much of

172 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

the organizational complexity relates to master-student relationships, whereby followers of a particular Aikido Sensei (“teacher”) or Shihan (“master instructor”) tend to form their own organizations, so that there can be several Aikido federations in a single country—of the Nordic countries, this is the case in Norway, where the dojos are split into two federations. For many, Aikido is also a business and the main source of personal income, which may create further tensions. The Nordic countries are exceptional to this federation-level splintering tendency, likely caused by state’s sport subsidy policies as well as culture of volunteer work that will be discussed later in this chapter. We see that Aikido and its ideas have spread around the world by five main mechanisms. First, the Aikikai and other Aikido organizations have sent numerous instructors—“martial missionaries”—around the world to spread the art since the 1950s. Some of those individuals were remarkably successful and founded their own dojos and federations. The Japanese headquarters kept control of the overseas teachers by demanding all higher grades to be kept under their license. For example, the Nordic Aikido federations still register and pay for all dan (black belt) grades to Japan. While this also created financial and other tensions between the Japanese headquarters and overseas teachers, it has been a significant unificatory mechanism. Second, many foreigners traveled to Japan to study Aikido and returned to start dojos in their countries of origin. For example, the Frenchman Christian Tissier (b. 1951) trained for many years at the Aikikai Hombu Dojo and is today one of the most prominent Aikido Shihan’s in the world. The pioneering individuals then spread further the art in their own and neighboring countries. Third, beside the sent instructors and Aikido pilgrims, several Japanese and other international migrants, often students and professionals, have played a key role in starting local clubs. For example, the NTNUI Aikido, Norway, got a boost by a visiting Japanese university professor (NTNUI Aikido n.d.), but likewise country internal migration has had a major role. Fourth, and more difficult to estimate, is the role of general public’s interest toward Asian martial arts—where Aikido was one among many—that was fed by books, specialist magazines, media appearances, popular culture, and movies. For Aikido, a significant—though controversial—figure is that of movie actor star and Aikido teacher Steven Seagal (b. 1952), whose early movies, such as Above the Law (1988) and Under Siege (1992), helped to popularize Aikido. Based on numerous, but anecdotal,

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

173

discussions with aikidokas, he is a person that everyone knows and has been a main motivator for many to start training in the first place. Fifth, an even more difficult stream of influence to pin down is the spread of Aikido-related ideas that have often been combined with other elements in different realms of life. Fox example, Aikido’s non-violent “philosophy is often seen to have a strong influence for the aikidokas” everyday life by therapeutic value (Tohei 1978; Dobson and Miller 1998; Foster 2015) and claimed to enhance all kinds of skillsets, such as sports coaching (Antell 2014) and trumpet playing (Välimaa 2013). Aikido has also been utilized as an alternative education system (Chew 1995; Kroll 2008, 464–466; Depaus 2014; Bryant 2019; Gordon 2019; Budo Accelerator 2021), a creative leadership training method for corporations and the society (Clawson and Doner 1996; Pino 1998; Bradford 2011; Aikido Extensions 2021), a booster for entrepreneurship (Rudisill 2007), a way to rehabilitate war veterans (Lukoff and Strozzi-Heckler 2017), a tool for psychotherapists (Faggianelli and Lukoff 2006), and seen as a potential method to solve conflicts and crises for individuals and even in world politics (Martin 2004; Bryant 2019; Hagström and Bremberg 2022). These openings alone reveal something unique on the reception of this martial art: Aikido, for many practitioners, is a way of life, and a seemingly highly malleable yet potential way of life management. Even spiritual and religious practices have evolved around aikido, from an adaptation of Neo-­ Shintoism to other complex syncretic systems—including a mixture of Aikido and Kabbalah (Susman 2006). Most of these applications are in relatively stark contrast to typical Aikido training, which is a highly regulated and repetitive affair primarily focusing on physical exercise. In sum, Aikido has become a quite well-known Japanese-origin martial art that has a following around the world. Its Japanese roots are upheld via active relationship to its Japanese parent organizations, via other transnational collaboration and ties, and an increasing global online presence, for example on YouTube. Among the martial arts, Aikido is known for its spirituality that inspired numerous individuals to create further activities in different realms of life that are somehow based on Aikido. Aikido’s presence in the Nordic countries started at the turn of the 1960s and has currently a presence of some 250 dojos and an estimated 6000 active practitioners.

174 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

Data and Method The data for this chapter was collected during the COVID-19 pandemic. The primary material for this study stems from interviews. We aimed at having one senior aikidoka from each of the Nordic countries Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden. Aikido activity is more limited and recent in Iceland, and hence we left it out of the study. In addition to interview data, we made inquiries to Nordic federations on club and membership statistics, as well as information about the history of Aikido in each country. Finally, we used various kinds of printed and online material, as well as diverse academic and other literature on the topic. For the interviews, we approached preselected senior Nordic aikidoka by email and invited them to join our study. Some declined, for a variety of reasons, mostly time issues, but eventually we gathered a group of four individuals who have trained Aikido from the 1970s. We ended with four male respondents, Urban Aldenklint (Sweden), Mouliko Halén (Norway), Petteri Silenius (Finland), and Ethan Weisgard (Denmark), even though we also enquired women. All respondents are well known in their own countries as well as to some extent internationally. As having their identity anonymous would be difficult, we asked them from the beginning to be presented under their own name. Everyone has also read the manuscript and agreed upon their name being known to the reader with the understanding that the interpretations based on their sayings are those of the authors, and not necessarily shared by the individual in question. We started by individual interviews in August 2021 and summed it up with a collective discussion in October 2021, as we felt having the informants interacting with each other might offer additional insights. We conducted the online interviews via Zoom, recorded them, and later transcribed the interviews. As the material is manageable, we decided to use basic thematic content analysis in our study. Interview quotes are stylized for the purpose of readability, by removing repetitions and conventions and grammar issues of spoken language. Next, we shall present the respondents of the study in the order they started Aikido. In the Nordic sphere, three of the respondents are related to Toshikazu Ichimura’s (b. 1941) and one to Takeji Tomita’s (b. 1942) Aikido legacy. All of them are influential teachers, affiliated with the Aikikai, the Aikido “mainline” organization. Mouliko Halén (b. 1955, Sweden) started practicing Aikido in Sweden in 1973. He is the founder and chief instructor of Sunyata Aikido Dojo in

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

175

Oslo, Norway, which he established in 1984. His main teachers are Yasuo Kobayashi (b. 1936) and his son Hiroaki Kobayashi, but he is also strongly influenced by Seishiro Endo (b. 1942). Halén holds the rank of 7th dan in Aikido. He also has a 3rd dan in Daito-ryu Aiki Jutsu, Roppokai, and 1st dan in Katori shintō-ryū. Halén has professional background in the military and has worked as a bodyguard, which gives him an additional understanding on self-defense scenarios.  He also engages in international teaching, including different European countries and Algeria. Urban Aldenklint (b. 1954, Sweden) started practicing Aikido in 1977 at the Nakaima Aikido club. He studied Aikido with Toshikazu Ichimura and Kazuo Igarashi, also staying in Japan for a while. After getting back to Sweden in 1981 he founded Iyasaka Aikido Club in Stockholm with Ulf Linde that became along with Göteborgs aikidoklubb the largest Aikido club in Sweden. Aldenklint holds the title of Shihan and 7th dan in Aikido and has traveled as a visiting teacher in different countries. He is also the singer and songwriter of the rock group Suburban. Ethan Weisgard (b. 1957) was born in the USA, but moved to Denmark in 1969. He began his Aikido career under Takeji Tomita in 1976 and was associated with Copenhagen Aikido Club until 2003, when he founded his own Copenhagen  Aiki Shuren Dojo. Weisgard became a student of Morihiro Saito (1928–2002) and was his representative in Denmark, holding the 6th dan rank, and has covered what he learned of his time in Iwama as Saito’s live-in-student in an instructional book. He has spent much time in Japan, and because of this he has also been working as a Japanese culture specialist, offering Japan Bridge seminar series. He is also a professional musician (drums and percussion) and a music teacher. Petteri Silenius (b. 1964) began Aikido, in Budokwai Club in Turku, Finland, in 1978, and founded the Turku Aikikai in 1991. By professional training he is an artist. Silenius has authored the most popular Aikido book in Finland (Silenius 1991). Between 2008 and 2011 he lived in Greece, and after returning to Finland he has continued as the main instructor of Turku Aikikai. His main Aikido teachers have been Yasuo Kobayashi and Kazuo Igarashi, but he has also studied with Tetsutaka Sugawara (b. 1941) and Christian Tissier. He holds the title of Shihan and 7th dan in Aikido. In addition to Aikido, he has kyoshi menkyo teacher license in Tenshin shōden Katori shintō-ryū, the oldest surviving Japanese kenjutsu school, where he follows his Tetsutaka Sugawara lineage (Sugawara Sogo Budo Kenkyosho). This gives him additional awareness for Aikido weapon training.

176 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

As both authors are long-time aikidoka themselves, it is necessary to reflect on this issue too. Regarding substance, the benefit of the situation is obvious, as the authors have much emic knowledge of Aikido and martial arts culture more broadly, that makes it easier to understand the research context. Both have engaged to a lot of debates about budo culture, visited dojos, and trained in several European countries, Japan, Australia, and the USA. However, the issues debated were not generally those that would be discussed in the dojo settings that are known to us, which also strengthens our presupposition that explicitly religious and spiritual issues are not common topics of discussion among aikidokas. Emic position also provides some obstacles, including the ability to view from the outside. As both authors are also experienced researchers, we felt that there are potential benefits for the explanation and understanding of the Aikido culture. In terms of personal relations, Mr. Petteri Silenius is the Aikido teacher of both the authors, but we experienced no tensions or wishes to avoid some topics in this case, but were given free hands to proceed as we saw best. As Silenius authored the first full book on aikido and is one of the highest graded (7. dan Shihan) teachers in Finland, we felt his inclusion was important and easy to arrange.

A Brief History and Development of Aikido in the Nordic Countries Now we aim to illuminate about basic features of the history and spread of Aikido in the Nordic countries. The first appearance of Aikido in the Nordic countries was in the 1960s. In 1961 a group of Swedes began Aikido based on knowledge from books and old videos and soon developed contact with Japanese instructors in continental Europe (Stenudd 2010, 206–210). In 1964 an English student started Aikido at the Budokan Club in Copenhagen (Ichimura n.d.). A more organized activity began, when the Aikikai Hombu Dojo sent Toshikazu Ichimura to Sweden in 1966, and later Takeji Tomita (b. 1942) arrived via a private invitation to teach Aikido in Gothenburg in 1969. Both teachers were to play a central role in the spread of Aikido in the Nordics, and Ichimura was later Hombu Dojo’s representative also for Denmark and Finland. Ichimura introduced even the Japanese martial art of sword drawing (Iaido) to the Nordic countries, so that in many places these two arts were taught in the same place. Tomita’s influence was visible in  especially Sweden and

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

177

Denmark. Aikido began in Norway in the 1970s and stayed mainly under influences from England at that time (Stenudd 2010, 212–232). Swedish Aikido developed under Ichimura and Tomita, but there was dissatisfaction with the Japanese teachers due to the harsh training methods of Ichimura, and organizational difficulties with Tomita. Ichimura’s senior students wrote him a letter in 1983 that eventually led to independence from his direct influence. Aldenklint reflects on the time: Ichimura left in 1986, but we broke our relations with him already in 1983. We could not accept his manners, he was treating people badly. In 1977 Kobayashi came to Finland, it was an eye-opener. He was then invited again. His and Igarashi’s method of teaching was very different. It was a big thing.

In the 1980s Swedish Aikido divided further, as Ki-Aikido arrived via the influence of Kenjiro Yoshigasaki (1951–2021), but they all remained under the same federation. Yoshigasaki influenced also Finland, so that Ki-Aikido started there as well. By the turn of the 2000s, Swedish aikidoka counted around 5000, but it has now been reduced to some 3000. There are about 100 Aikido clubs in Sweden, and several high-ranking Swedish Aikido Shihans. Swedish aikido is nationally organized via Swedish Budo and Martial Arts Confederation that is part of the Swedish Sports Confederation (Stenudd 2010, 206–234). Danish Aikido began under the teaching a 3rd kyu Englishman, whose name is not available, in 1964, but became soon more connected to developments in Sweden via the influence of Ichimura (based in Stockholm/ Uppsala) and Tomita (based in Gothenburg). Gradually these influences become the two main branches of Aikido in Denmark and united as the Danish Aikido Federation first in 2005 (Fredriksberg Aiki Dojo n.d.). The first specialized Aikido club was the Copenhagen Aikikai founded in 1971 (Ichimura n.d.). Activities of Ki-Aikido started in 1987, also relating to Kenjiro Yoshigasaki. Even Tendoryu Aikido is practiced in Denmark with the first club founded in 2000. Altogether there are some 40 Aikido clubs in Denmark with more than 400 aikidoka. Aikido came to Finland via Sweden, as a Finnish university student studied the art and helped to create the bond between the countries. In 1970, Ichimura held demonstrations in Turku and Helsinki, and club activities began in 1971  in Helsinki and Pietarsaari, soon followed by other cities. The activity was immediately organized into a sports federation, Finland Aikikai, which has been a member of the International

178 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

Aikido Federation (I.A.F.) since 1976. After Ichimura’s return to Japan in 1986, the development of Finnish Aikido has been supported especially by Yasuo Kobayashi and Kazuo Igarashi.  Also the Aikikai Hombu Dojo instructor Seishiro Endo has visited Finland and Sweden regularly since the late 1980s, as well as gained a significant following. Ichimura’s legacy continues even in Denmark and Sweden through those clubs that follow his main teacher’s, Shoji Nishio’s (1927–2005) Aikido style. Today, there are about 70 aikido clubs in Finland with under 1800 aikidoka. The vast majority of them belong to the Finland Aikikai, but there are a few Ki-Aikido clubs, and single Yoshinkan and Shodokan dojos. Finland Aikikai is a member of the Finnish Olympic Committee, the umbrella organization of Finnish sports (Levy 2006, 2010). The key influence of Norwegian Aikido came initially from the UK, in particular via Minoru Kanetsuka (1939–2019). The first club was Tromsø Aikidoklubb founded in 1977. Norwegian Aikido is divided into two organizations, the larger Norwegian Aikido Federation (18 clubs) and smaller Aikikan Norway (4 clubs). In addition, there is a small, recent Ki-Aikido group. Altogether there are  a bit more than 400 aikidoka in Norway. Aikido clubs may individually join the Norges Kampsportforbund, which is part of the Norwegian Olympic and Paralympic Committee and Confederation of Sports. Even though Aikido has stayed comparatively uniform in organizational terms in the Nordic countries, the practitioners overtime became divided into followers of certain Aikido instructors, but most of them have stayed under Aikikai. The main organizational separation took place in the early 1980s, as Ki-Aikido’s European representative Keniro Yoshigasaki gained a following in Sweden and Finland. Ki-Aikido’s birth was related to Aikikai Hombu Dojo’s chief instructor Koichi Tohei’s resignation in 1974, where after he founded Ki-Aikido. Yoshigasaki was sent to Europe in 1977. The other main global Aikido organizations, Yoshinkan and Shodokan both have one dojo each in Finland. The Finnish Yoshinkan dojo was founded by a Russian immigrant and the Shodokan dojo by a native Finn with a Judo background. The early influences of Ichimura and Tomita are still visible, but today’s variety of influences is quite broad in all of the countries. Sweden and Finland stand out as the largest Aikido countries in the Nordics. For most aikidoka their own Aikido club, dojo, and community are centers of their practice. Additionally, it is customary that people participate in weekend seminars of visiting domestic or international instructors. The aikidoka who treat it as a hobby visit the dojo a couple of times per

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

179

week. The most dedicated usually seek to train several times a week, even daily if possible, and actively participate in seminars of at least the key master instructor the dojo follows. Those most deeply engaged may even visit and stay at the master instructor’s home dojo, if that is possible. Based on our own experience, it is quite common that many aikidoka have at least some interests to Aikido literature, Japanese culture, and martial arts films. Many have also trained other martial arts at some point of their lives or still do. While the great majority focus to their home dojo and the occasional weekend seminars, it is also possible to visit other Aikido dojos.

Discussing the Spiritual and Religious Aspects of Aikido Let us now move to the question about role of spirituality and religion in Aikido. To approach this issue, it is telling to look at how the interviewed senior teachers see the dojo—the main site of Aikido training. Most Aikido practice takes place in a local training hall. The training takes ideally place in a purpose-built dojo (“place of the Way”) designed for safe practice with Japanese elements, including tatami mats, training accessories, and decorations. The dojo has elements of a Shinto shrine structure: a shomen (front) with kamiza (place of honor) and kamidana (small Shinto shrine), and some associated behavioral rules. For example, the shomen is bowed to in the beginning and at the end of training (Lowry 2006). However, in many cases people train in public sport facilities, schools, and martial arts gyms, where they share the space with other sports, but the imagined dojo structure still affects spatial usage of the room, including the direction of bowing. The clubs and dojos are usually run either privately or by an association. In the Nordic countries the Aikido clubs are almost entirely organized as voluntary associations. For a standard Aikido class of 60 or 90 minutes, the aikidoka dress up in white training costume (gi) and, additionally for the more experienced, black or dark blue hakama trousers. After bowing and warm up exercises, the instructor (sensei) shows a technique, which the aikidoka do usually in pairs for some time while the instructor is circulating the class and giving advice where after they are shown a new technique. Bowing is a key feature of transition done as a class, between training partners and to the classes’ instructor. Instructions are given in the vernacular with extensive usage of Aikido specific Japanese vocabulary. Men and women train together, but children may have their own classes. Based on our

180 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

experience in different countries and dojos, women constitute usually up to a third of aikidoka. All respondents have their own dojos, at times shared with other arts, but nevertheless custom made for martial art training. As Petteri Silenius points out, having primarily taught Aikido in Lutheran (Finland) and Greek Catholic (Greece) country, “the dojo is a very deep concept. I could think that is resembles a church for a Christian. It is a place where you decide to go, sort of get silent, serious and start working to develop yourself.” Ethan Weisgard also emphasizes the resemblance to a sacral place: Dojo is the place to train in the Way. Both physical and spiritual. Almost like a temple. You leave the world behind, enter another world. Traditional dojo enables to sweep and clean, before and after. You clean sweat but also symbolically. You have the etiquette that belongs to what you train.

Similarly, Halén gives a deep significance for the dojo: “It means a lot. You create a place where you practice the Way.—It’s a serious thing.” Aldenklint sees a difference in context: It’s the place where you do Aikido. Japanese old style is like misogi [ritual purification], a place for mental and physical health. In Sweden in 2021, I don’t do that stuff much. Most dojos are public, and there’s no chance to have the dojo feeling. Keep it clean, nice and safe. Both mind and body.

During our interviews, discussion clearly pointed out the dojo to be a place of special meaning and distinct behavior. Even as it was noted by several that many times it is not possible to have a purpose-built training hall, it is seen as important that some basic features of dojo behavior are kept, including bowing. This idea seems to be shared internationally (see Reguli et al. 2016). For an outsider who views Aikido and is unfamiliar with Japanese etiquette, two issues usually stand out, based on the discussions the authors have had throughout the years: the fluidity of technical movements and a great deal of bowing, including utterances of Japanese words. As Weisgard notes, the details of dojo behavior vary somewhat between dojos, also in Japan: “Rituals are done slightly differently everywhere. Small variations. Iwama has a Shinto shrine. In the Iwama tradition: two bows, two claps, one bow. Hombu has kamiza but not kamidana.” We authors can also confirm differences in dojo ritual behavior with our experience of visiting

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

181

nearly 100 dojos in Finland and abroad. The basic custom is to bow at entry, to the teacher, to shomen, and to your training partner. The main variety comes from bowing standing or seated (the so-called seiza posture, where one sits on one’s knees) and on what occasions you bow to your training partner. Bowing also implies differences that can be understood in religious terms, as some dojos—including Weisgard’s—have a small Shinto shrine (kamidana) attached to the front wall (shomen) of the training hall. The beginning and end bows of the training include sequences of bowing and clapping hands that originates from appreciating the kami-sama of a Shinto shrine. Based on the discussions we have had with Aikidoka throughout the years, bowing for most aikidoka is simply part of the art and a way to focus to physical training; we are also aware that for some Aikido shihans and their students, the connection to Morihei Ueshiba’s religious legacy is real. For example, students of Michio Hikitsuchi (1923–2004) have kept these Shinto traditions close to Aikido practice. Mouliko Halén, who has also experience of international teaching in a variety of religious contexts and conflicts in dojo settings, notes that this can be a problem in some cases: “Clapping is about spirits, Shamanism. It could be a problem for Christian or Muslim trainers. The O-Sensei photo could be a problem too.” While most custom-made dojos include a picture of Morihei Ueshiba—at times also some other main Aikido instructor next to the founder—as part of the shomen arrangements, one the authors visited a dojo in Istanbul that was lacking both shomen bows and the photo of the founder. Halén sees such issues as natural, and Aikido “should be adapted to the country where you are.” The picture of Morihei Ueshiba represents a symbolic relationship to Aikido’s origins. Weisgard notes that “The symbolic … O-Sensei is the symbol of our Aikido. Also, the senior are bowing forward, to something that is higher than you. What came before. It is an important symbolic ritual.” The symbolism of shomen and the image is also reflected by Halén: “I am all for a center in the room. The respect point, that is ok for me. I am not so much open for shrines. In Japan I do as they do.” Cultural adaptation also relates to the way one talks about the roots of ritualistic arrangement. Aldenklint states that “I try to avoid explaining. Swedish people are not that much into religion, so the more we talk about that, the more people take distance.” Another form of adaptation relates to practical issues, and perhaps also restates the specificity of custom-made dojos. Petteri Silenius tells that

182 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

I do not have a problem if O-Sensei’s picture is somewhere else in the dojo. A calligraphy or flower arrangement are also fine.—If I teach my classes in a school gym, I do not necessarily drag O-Sensei’s image with me. Then we don’t need the shomen bow, we do not need to bow to the basketball rack.

Despite the obvious historical linkages to Morihei Ueshiba’s personal religiosity in the form of Omoto-kyo neo-Shintoism and kotodama (recited “soul words”) practice, as well as the dojo’s environment based on a Shinto shrine structure, all the respondents have great reservations for linking Aikido with organized religion in and of itself. Halén describes his relationship as follows: “I see some people try to follow that kind of path. I see O-Sensei as a soldier, a fighter. And then he changed, through training and the lost war. They capitulated, after being ready to fight to the end. Some people do peace and love. I am more a warrior way.” Silenius takes up the potential controversiality that bringing religion into training can create: I am of the opinion that religion should not be taken up in today’s Aikido.— We could talk about spirituality. Aikido is that kind of activity to which you can put any religion into. We had some problems in the 1980s, as Ichimura Sensei converted to sectarian Christianity and talked about the Bible in training.—I think it is everyone’s personal issue what people follow, there is freedom of religion.

Likewise, Weisgard adds that “Aikido is not a religion, but something you can put to any religion.” In a way, all respondents are following their own Aikido teachers’ approach—with the exception of Ichumura, that is—as none of them have provided explicit religion as part of basic Aikido teaching. Rather, they all take distance from “religion,” though they all have much more approval for “spirituality,” as is customary in today’s West in general (Heelas 2008). However, whatever the content of this ‘spirituality’ is, remains largely unstated in the context of these interviews, and thereby based on individual interests and interpretation. In querying their own religious or spiritual leanings, all of them proclaimed to be spiritual, both individually and during the collective interview session, but not seemingly interested to talk about it, especially together. Part of the hesitancy may also be related to personal encounters with numerous students. As Silenius tells, “I can see [some] people are looking for some kind of prophet.” Obviously, with these kind of expectations, experienced

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

183

teachers can feel that explicit religious elements may create problems for them, so they are better to be avoided.

Views on Aikido’s Transplantation to the Nordic Countries As cultural practices move place, they are prone to change and adapt to a new cultural setting. We asked our respondents whether Aikido has changed in its transplantation into the Nordic societies. To understand the background for this discussion, it is necessary to know that in the Nordic countries Aikido is organizationally often situated among combat sports, and in Finland and Sweden the national Aikido federations are part of national sport federations. In Norway, individual clubs may join national sport federations to receive various benefits. Much sporting activity in the Nordic countries is based on voluntary work and organized as voluntary associations. These associations are subject to general sport regulations, including anti-doping actions and different qualification systems, some of which may seem out of place for a physical activity that does not include a competitive element. Local Aikido associations may in many places also apply for municipal and other funding that ties them to local regulations on various issues. While the culture of voluntary work has a number of benefits, mainly in terms of relatively small training fees in many places, voluntarism provides a challenge for professionalizing Aikido. Sometimes participants may not wish to pay properly for their Aikido, and thus professional teachers can hardly make their living. In the joint discussion Aldenklint and Silenius made similar observations on the topic. We have sport federations and associations. We get money from governments. But in other areas they turn to pro, money. Even in a small city here you get good support, you can do it for fun. Elsewhere they think about money—We are quite unique! I have travelled, including Eastern Europe. Everywhere it’s commercial. Here we have sport clubs. We have some of the highest grades in Europe, but only a few professional teachers. Here it’s free, but difficult to do professionally. (Aldenklint) I agree about money. When I lived in Athens almost four years, I realized the difference. After people got their 1st or 2nd dan, they started their dojos, and didn’t have a federation. (Silenius)

184 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

Close co-operation with other sport organizations supports the spread of educational, organizational, and other elements that are alien to the historical roots of Aikido. For example, the relationship between a teacher and a student creates a personal bond with mutual obligations in Japan, whereas sport instructors are increasingly seen as service providers in the Nordic countries. Similarly, as the Japanese teaching methods in martial arts have been focused on repetition and learning through copying without questioning, the Nordic educational ideal approaches focus more on verbalization, communication, and more varied methods of learning skills. Our respondents have noted these differences and see advantages in both: The Japanese way is stealing the technique. Some elements in that are good, you need to be sharp and observe carefully. It takes time, you fail, then rebuild. The Western elements combined, first explain then do. You could end up spoon-feeding, and that is not good either. (Weisgard) It’s important to keep the Japanese culture in.—We think what they bring, and somehow adjust this to our culture. I have tested this, sometimes it works, sometimes you throw things away. The pedagogical side is very important for Western people, sometimes it goes too far. People say they understand, but when you see them doing... (Silenius)

The teachers were uniform in their vision of Aikido that the cultural and teaching connection to Japan is important, but they also praised certain elements of Nordic educational practices. One is not as tightly connected a specific teacher, but may also visit other dojos and learn from other instructors. As Halén notes: “One of the better things in Scandinavia is the openness for communications. You can visit others without making a problem.—Scandinavia has added good things, such as pedagogics, and explanations.” Aldenklint adds that “Swedish or Nordic people are mixing the Japanese way with our tradition, and that’s good.” The respondents have all had the opportunity to follow Aikido’s change and its adaptation to the Nordic countries over four decades. For them one needs to adapt Japanese practices to local and national circumstances, while trying to keep the connection to Japan alive. However, for Silenius change is also a fundamental feature in itself: Aikido has changed very much. You cannot just take something from one culture to another and live like that. Otherwise you end up in a sectarian

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

185

situation. Some people do that and it becomes very secretive. The art needs to change with times and cultures, if it wants stay alive.

The respondents considered cultural, pedagogical, and other adaptations of Aikido as natural consequences of the art’s establishment in the Nordic countries. In that sense it seems evident that Aikido has elements of a hybrid cultural formation (Pieterse 1995) based on culture and state’s sport policy’s coercive and normative isomorphic pressure (DiMaggio and Powell 1983). However, even though our respondents discussed to some extent about the impact globally mediated cultural flows, our material leaves that part of our initial interest unanswered. We presume, though, that a closer scrutiny and a larger sample would highlight the ways in which several spiritual movements have further developed the spiritual dimension found in Aikido, because based on interviews it remains largely as an individual interest to craft one’s ideas on that.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries In this chapter we focused on the experiences of four senior aikidoka from Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden, inquiring about the role of religion/spirituality in Aikido as well as about the history and cultural transplantation of Aikido into the Nordic sphere. Aikido is a Japanese martial art that has gained popularity around the world and is practiced in all the Nordic countries. Aikido is a mid-size martial art in terms of its following with an estimated 250 Aikido clubs and 6000 contemporary (2022) practitioners in the Nordic countries, though current figures are still low due to the long-term effects of COVID-19 pandemic that hit hard on many sports requiring physical contact indoors. The early legacy of Toshikazu Ichimura and Takeji Tomita still play a role on what Aikido teachers are today popular, but the field has grown increasingly diverse since the 1990s. Norway’s Aikido history is more closely related to England. Sweden and Finland have the largest Aikido following. While the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, was a highly religious person with deep immersion into various Shinto and esoteric Buddhist practices, current Aikido has only vaguely kept to this part of its heritage. Any Aikidoka interested in the history of Aikido know about this heritage, as it is discussed in most literature found on the art, but according to our

186 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

respondents, as well as our own experience of Aikido, there is only small part of Aikido practice that directly relates Shintoism. The most obvious one is the role the dojo, the training hall for Japanese martial arts that has many similarities to Shinto shrine structure still affecting the behavior of contemporary, non-Shinto aikidoka. While the general bowing and other ritual behavior—common to Japanese culture in general—is seen as integral to Aikido practice, we found among our respondents different attitudes as well as practices in relation to it. The respondents view on Aikido as a “religion” was critical, and not seen as necessary, but regarding “spirituality,” the relationship was much more  positive. All respondents agree that Aikido can have a spiritual dimension. Even though the content of Aikido’s spirituality was not discussed in deeper detail, it also became clear it is not a central issue of actual Aikido instruction, but rather something that aikidoka may pursue on their own. Spirituality seemed to refer to commonly known Aikido principles, including non-competitiveness, non-violence, unification of body and mind, and a vague notion of harmony with the others and the universe. Respondents seemed to agree, however, on the issue that Aikido is primarily a martial art and that any spiritual aspects should be seen in relation to that. The Japanese origins of Aikido were appreciated by the respondents, but their application in the Nordic countries was seen both in practice and in principle to include adaptation into a new environment. Educational changes were pointed out by all respondents, including verbal instruction, as well as a changed role in student-teacher relationships. Japanese models in these were not negatively judged, but rather seen as often only partially functional in the Nordic context. For our respondents, Japan’s role as the center of Aikido was not contested. A major feature of Nordic Aikido is that it is primarily conducted through volunteers that receive public funding to keep the costs of practice low. Also volunteering in administrative work as well as instruction is common. This makes it difficult to have a professional career as an Aikido instructor, in contrast with many other Western countries, where Aikido clubs are run as private enterprises. The future of Aikido in the Nordic countries seems organizationally secured, but it has an aging participant base, so it remains to be seen how that develops in the future.

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

187

References Aiki Extensions. 2021. Embodied Leadership and Aikido with Wendy Palmer (6th Dan). Published 19 Aug 2021. https://youtu.be/D_vKjoAMA30. Accessed 19 Nov 2021. Aikido Sangenkai. 2023. Pacific Rim Internal Power Study Group. https://www. aikidosangenkai.org/. Accessed 3 Mar 2023. Aikiweb Discussion Board. http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/. Accessed 3 Mar 2023. Antell, Sanna. 2014. Aikidon lajianalyysi ja valmennuksen ohjelmoiminen. Valmentajaseminaarityö (Valmennus- ja testausoppi), Jyväskylän yliopisto. https://jyx.jyu.fi/bitstream/handle/123456789/44273/1/Antell%20 Sanna.pdf. Accessed 19 Nov 2021. Bowman, Paul. 2015. Martial Arts Studies. Disrupting Disciplinary Boundaries. London: Rowman & Littlefield. Bradford, Mark. 2011. Aikido and Co-creative Practice. Design Principles and Practices: An International Journal 3: 407–418. Bryant, Shawn R. 2019. Fighting With No One: Reflections on Education, Aikido, and Peace. Ido Movement for Culture. Journal of Martial Arts Anthropology 2: 21–28. Budo Accelerator. 2021. https://www.budoaccelerator.org/. Accessed 19 Nov 2021. Chew, Phyllis Ghim Lian. 1995. Aikido Politics in Interview Interaction. Linguistics and Education 7: 201–220. Clawson, James G., and Jonathan Doner. 1996. Teaching Leadership Through Aikido. Journal of Management Education 2: 182–205. Cynarski, Wojciech J., Yu Jong-Hoon, Krzysztof Warchol, and Pavol Bartik. 2015. Martial Arts in Psycho-physical Culture. Ido Movement for Culture. Journal of Martial Arts Anthropology 4: 3–38. Depaus, Christophe. 2014. Aikido: An Alternative Education System for Humanity. TEDxUBIWiltz. TEDx Talks. Published 26 Jun 2014. https://youtu.be/ EqVuGHlDZ-­k. Accessed 19 Nov 2021. DiMaggio, Paul J., and Walter W.  Powell. 1983. The Iron Cage Revisited: Institutional Isomorphism and Collective Rationality in Organizational Fields. American Sociological Review 2: 147–160. Dobson, Terry, and Victor Miller. 1998 [1973]. Aikido in Everyday Life. Giving in to Get Your Way. Berkeley: Blue Snake Books. Donohue, John J. 1994. Warrior Dreams. The Martial Arts and the American Imagination. Westport: Bergin & Garvey. Draeger, Donn F. 1973a. Classical Bujutsu. The Martial Arts of Japan. Volume 1. London: Weatherhill.

188 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

———. 1973b. Classical Budo. The Martial Arts of Japan. Volume 2. London: Weatherhill. ———. 1974. Modern Bujutsu and Budo. The Martial Arts of Japan. Volume 3. London: Weatherhill. Erard, Guillaime. 2018. Interview with Kobayashi Yasuo: Aikido for Everyone. Published 12 April 2018. https://guillaumeerard.com/aikido/interviews/ interview-­with-­kobayashi-­yasuo-­shihan/. Accessed 2 Sept 2022. Facal, Gabriel, and Laurent Chircop-Reyes. 2022. Where Martiality and Religion Meet: Health, Sport, War. Martial Arts Studies 12: 1–7. Faggianelli, Patrick, and David Lukoff. 2006. Aikido and Psychotherapy: A Study of Psychotherapists Who Are Aikido Practitioners. The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology 2: 159–178. Foster, Drew. 2015. Fighters Who Don’t Fight: The Case of Aikido and Somatic Metaphorism. Qualitative Sociology 38: 165–183. Fredriksberg Aiki Dojo. n.d.. Aikidoens indtog i Danmark. http://www. frederiksberg-­aikido.dk/aikidoen-­kommer-­til-­danmark. Accessed 3 Aug 2022. Friedman, Harris. 2005. Problems of Romanticism in Transpersonal Psychology: A Case Study of Aikido. The Humanist Psychologist 1: 3–24. Gordon, Michael A. 2019. Aikido as Transformative and Embodied Pedagogy. Teacher as Healer. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan/Springer Nature. Hagström, Linus, and Niklas Bremberg. 2022. Aikido and World Politics: A Practice Theory for Transcending the Security. European Journal of International Relations 2: 263–286. Heelas, Paul. 2008. Spiritualities of Life. New Age Romanticism and Consumptive Capitalism. Oxford: Blackwell. Hurtig, Aki. 2016. Harmonisen voiman tie—aikido fenomenologian näkökulmasta. MA Thesis, University of Oulu. http://jultika.oulu.fi/files/nbnfioulu­201605251895.pdf. Accessed 19 Nov 2021. Ichimura, Toshikazu. n.d.. Aikido in Denmark. http://www.copenhagenaikikai. dk/?page_id=143. Accessed 31 Aug 2022. Ikonen, Katri. 2011. Rituaaliset kehotekniikat. Chinkon kishin ja misogi aikidon harjoittelussa ja Omoton opetuksissa. MA Thesis (Cultural Anthropology), Itä-­Suomen yliopiston. https://epublications.uef.fi/pub/urn_nbn_fi_uef-­ 20110349/urn_nbn_fi_uef-­20110349.pdf. Accessed 19 Nov 2021. Kroll, Barry. 2008. Arguing with Adversaries: Aikido, Rhetoric, and the Art of Peace. College Composition and Communication 3: 451–472. Levy, Mika. 2006. Aikidon tie suomalaiseen liikuntakulttuuriin. Ma Thesis (History). Itä-Suomen yliopisto. https://epublications.uef.fi/pub/ URN_NBN_fi_joy-­20070172/URN_NBN_fi_joy-­20070172.pdf. Accessed 19 Nov 2021. ———. 2010. The History of Aikido in Finland. Aikido 1: 12–17.

  AIKIDO’S SPIRITUALITY AND TRANSPLANTATION IN THE NORDIC… 

189

Little, William. 2018. Putting the Harm Back to Harmony. Aikido, Violence, and ‘Truth in Martial Arts’. Martial Arts Studies 6: 89–101. Lowry, Dave. 2006. In the Dojo. The Rituals and Etiquette of the Japanese Martial Arts. London: Weatherhill. Lukoff, David, and Richard Strozzi-Heckler. 2017. Aikido: A Martial Art with Mindfulness, Somatic, Relational, and Spiritual Benefits for Veterans. Spirituality in Clinical Practice 2: 81–91. Martin, Philippe. 2004. Conflict Resolution Using Transactional Analysis and Aikido. Transactional Analysis Journal 3: 229–242. Miura, Kanzou. 2015. Mr. Moritaka (Morihei) Ueshiba’s Budo and the Way of the Kami. Translated from Japanese by Christopher Li. Aikido Sangenkai blog. Published 8 Feb 2015. https://www.aikidosangenkai.org/blog/leap-­spirit-­ moritaka-­morihei-­ueshiba/. Accessed 31 Aug 2022. NTNUI Aikido. n.d.. Club History. https://ntnui-­aikido.com/about-­the-­club/ history/. Accessed 31 Aug 2022. Pieterse, Jan Nederveen. 1995. Globalization as Hybridization. In Global Modernities, ed. Mike Featherstone, Scott Lash, and Roland Robertson. London: Sage. Pino, Robert. 1998. Corporate Aikido: Unleash the Potential Within Your Company to Neutralize Competition and Seize Growth. New York: McGraw-Hill. Reguli, Zdenko, Michal Vit, and Jitka Č ihounkova. 2016. Is Dojo the Spiritual Place in Aikido? Revista de Artes Marciales Asiáticas 2: 120–121. Roof, Wade Clark. 1999. The Spiritual Marketplace. Baby Boomers and the Making of American Religion. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Rudisill, Kay C.A. 2007. Aikido Practices, Communication Awareness and Effective Entrepreneurship. Journal of Human Values 1: 35–42. Said, Edward W. 2012. Orientalismi. Orig. Orientalism (1978). Trans. Kati Pitkänen. Helsinki: Gaudeamus. Shioda, Gozo. 2013. Aikido, My Spiritual Journey. New  York: Kodansha International. Silenius, Petteri. 1991. Aikido. Harmonisen voiman tie. Porvoo: WSOY. Stenudd, Stefan. 2010. Aikido – den fredliga kampkonsten. Malmö: Arriba. Stevens, John. 1997. Invincible Warrior. A Pictorial Biography of Morihei Ueshiba, the Founder of Aikido. London: Shambhala. Susman, Jack. 2006. Manifest, Hidden, and Divine: Introduction to Sefirot Aikido. The International Journal of Transpersonal Studies 1: 83–96. Telles, Thabata C.B. 2022. Framing Spirituality in Martial Arts. An Embodied Comprehension through Phenomenology. Martial Arts Studies 12: 19–25. Tohei, Koichi. 1978. Ki in Daily Life. Tokyo: Ki No Kenkyukai H.Q. Tweed, Thomas A. 2005. American Occultism and Japanese Buddhism. Albert J.  Edmunds, D.  T. Suzuki, and Translocative History. Japanese Journal of Religious Studies 2: 249–281.

190 

T. MARTIKAINEN AND K. KÄRKI

Ueshiba, Kisshōmaru. 1984. The Spirit of Aikidō. Tokyo: Kodansha International. Ueshiba, Morihei. 1991 [1938]. Budō. Teachings of the Founder of Aikidō. Tokyo: Kodansha International. Välimaa, Tuure. 2013. Aikido apuna trumpetistin kehonhuollossa. Esittävän musiikin opinnäytetyö, Lahden ammattikorkeakoulu 2013. https://www.theseus.fi/bitstream/handle/10024/57517/Valimaa_Tuure.pdf?sequence= 1&isAllowed=y. Accessed 19 Nov 2021.

Interviews E-mail queries to Finland Aikikai, Norwegian Aikido Federation, and Swedish Aikido Federation. Group interview with Urban Aldenklint, Mouliko Halén, Petteri Silenius and Ethan Weisgard (13.10.2021). Individual interviews with Urban Aldenklint (24.8.2021), Mouliko Halén (7.8.2021), Petteri Silenius (10.8.2021) and Ethan Weisgard (4.8.2021).

Towards Watery and Vibrating Bodies: Finnish Bodies Learning Tibetan Sound Healing Linda Annunen and Terhi Utriainen

Introduction The purpose of this chapter is to ask the following two questions: How can bodies become imagined, sensed, and materialized in the practice and ritual of Tibetan singing bowl sound healing as it is available in Finland today? And what is potentially attractive and new to Finns in this way of understanding and experiencing the body? In order to be able to give even tentative answers to these questions, we first discuss how religion provides important models for imagining and living out bodies—not only in tightly

L. Annunen (*) Faculty of Arts, Psychology and Theology, Åbo Akademi University, Turku, Finland e-mail: [email protected] T. Utriainen Faculty of Theology, University of Helsinki, Helsinki, Finland e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_9

191

192 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

bounded religious or ritual contexts but also outside them in the wider sphere of life and culture. We also give some examples of traditional Lutheran and Finnish understandings of selves and bodies, which may now be in shifting. Second, we outline our understanding of ritual, define the concepts of “body pedagogics” and “somatic inversion”, and present our tools for analytically approaching how this new way of imagining the body happens in Tibetan sound bowl healing. We present the phenomenon of Tibetan singing bowls and analyse its special practice of ritually imagining and materializing embodied selves. Our material consists of individual and focus-group interviews with Finnish practitioners and learners, their thematic writings, and complementary participatory observation in sound healing lessons. We conclude our chapter by discussing what kinds of potentially new embodied epistemologies and ontologies this relatively popular and adaptable practice currently offers and articulates in comparison to the more traditional forms of Protestant–secular embodiment in contemporary Nordic culture and, more specifically, the Finnish context. We suggest that part of the attraction of what is understood as an Eastern healing method lies in the ways in which it enables practitioners to learn to imagine and sense the body in relational and sensuous ways that are different from traditional Lutheran or Enlightenment thinking.

Protestant and Post-Protestant Bodies in Finland Protestantism abstracted religion from much of people’s everyday life experiences by dislocating faith and the sacred from ritual forms encountered through the sensuous body, and turning them into cognitive ideals. The sacred resided in the mind, while bodily relationships were, at best, a matter of profane association rather than religious community. […] Touch, smell and sacrifice are divested of much of their meaning as media for communication, while individuals are encouraged to engage in a form of ‘monadic communication’ via religious symbols. (Mellor and Shilling 1997, 103)

In Re-forming the Body: Religion, Community and Modernity (1997), sociologists Philip Mellor and Chris Schilling offer a history of embodiment in Western society. They argue that religion and religious change have been important for how bodies become understood and lived. Moreover, they emphasize that forms of embodiment are in close relation to forms of sociality in ways that are not restricted to the sphere of religion

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

193

in any limited sense. In making the close connection between bodies and social forms, they align with several thinkers from different scholarly traditions, mainly in phenomenology and sociology, who approach embodiment basically as intercorporeality and relationality, as they relate to others as well as their surroundings in various ways. In Mellor and Shillings’ ideal-typical model of the historical trajectory of bodies from medieval time through early modernity to contemporary modernity, the Protestant re-formation became a historical watershed in both providing a source of modernity and making a “defense against the magic, superstition [sic] and sensuality of the Middle Ages” (1997, 11). The Protestant body, shaped by such characteristics as “control, order and careful presentation of self via the adoption of a ‘disciplined habitus’” (1997, 11), became an enduring model that still affects post-­ Protestant bodies. However, the writers argue that in contemporary Western societies, Protestant aspects of embodiment are increasingly modified by trends that fall into the wider category of “sensualization of experience”. This modified form of embodiment (the history of which Mellor and Shilling trace back to the Counter-Reformation) is characterized by enhanced reflexivity and surrounded by various forms of experts as well as guidance talk and practices—familiar phenomena in the contemporary cultural landscape (e.g. Salmenniemi et al. 2019). This post-Protestant or “baroque body” also has a somewhat different, and more immanent, form of sacred than its early Protestant forerunner. As Finland is characterized by a long tradition of Lutheranism (Sinnemäki et  al. 2019), one could argue that it makes a good case for how the Lutheran body has been imagined and lived under the influence of many central social institutions and also in more private life contexts. We should not, however, overemphasize the uniformity of this picture. Even if the Lutheran Church communicated such virtues as modesty, piety, obedience, sobriety, hard work, and clear-cut gender roles, there were also alternative trends with a much more porous notion of the human being. Some revivalist movements, for instance, exercised ecstatic rituals. And traditional folk religion, the traces of which were present still in the twentieth century, emphasized porous human embodiment that was open to natural, social, and supernatural forces in the form of disease but also inspiration (Koski 2011; Stark 2006). Esoteric movements, popular from the beginning of the twentieth century, articulated human embodiment that was able to contact the otherworld through the senses and special

194 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

rituals; this was especially strongly emphasized in spiritualistic séances (e.g. Kaartinen 2020). Different bodily imaginations can co-exist and overlap, but they seldom receive equal social recognition and legitimacy. It is safe to say that the combination of Lutheran and Enlightenment virtues and the ideal of the importance of the cognitive aspect of the human being accompanied by relatively bounded and controlled individual bodies have had a strong hold especially on the level of public life in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in Finland (see, e.g., Sinnemäki et  al. 2019). In everyday life, bodily control and self-direction were learned through the school institution1 (already from the eighteenth century supported by the ideology of Enlightenment and the many civil movements inspired by it) and also through complicated table manners that were partly legitimized by Christian teaching (Knuuttila 2011). In this idea and image, Finnish bodies were not allowed to open themselves to alterity or sensuously encounter the sacred but were instead encouraged to let the sacred reside in a relatively distant transcendent sphere. Against this backdrop, we can witness two important interlinking recent developments in Finland. The rapid decline of church membership during the first two decades of the twenty-first century (from 85.1% in 2000 to 68.6% in 2020, and only 50% in Helsinki) suggests that Lutheran teaching and view of human beings are weakening. This would be so especially amongst younger Finns, who, according to recent research, often receive quite weak religious socialization, if any, at home or from the church and society at large (Tervo-Niemelä 2020). However, there is a vivid interest in more Eastern-inspired imaginings and practices (see, e.g., Ahonen 2014). Even if Eastern influences in Finland are not a new phenomenon, a change can be detected in their popularity and social position within Nordic societies. While Eastern influences during the 1970s were mostly part of wider counter-cultural movements, they have enjoyed rapidly mainstreamed popularity in Finland (Hellqvist and Komulainen 2020b, 9) since the 1990s. Recently the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland has also noticed the growing attraction and popularity of Eastern bodily practices, such as yoga and meditation, as well as how this attraction may partly relate to different emphases on the body. The Lutheran Church has responded to this trend by incorporating some of these novel forms to complement their own practices (Hellqvist and Komulainen 2020a). In Finland, many congregations offer practices of Christian yoga and meditation. Also,

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

195

singing bowls have been used in Lutheran contexts and spaces, including the church. Nordic countries have witnessed similar developments. Scholars have, for example, described the application of Eastern traditions in Nordic New Age practices as reducing religious rituals to mere “techniques” detached from their sacred traditions (Hornborg 2012), while others have pointed to Eastern spiritualities as alternative or complementing traditional Lutheranism (Ahonen 2014). As Hellqvist and Komulainen (2020b, 9) suggest, contemporary Western practices of spirituality and well-being primarily draw influences from Hinduism and Buddhism. This change and development are not unique to Nordic countries, of course. In North America, liberal Protestants have been shown to be very interested in integrating diverse alternative and complementary healing ways with their Christian spiritual practice and “spirituality that acknowledges and works through the body”, as noted by Pamela Klassen (2005, 378). In this chapter, we are interested in a metaphorical shift from “dry” to “wet” perceptions of the human body, which can be argued to take place in singing bowl sound healing. We thus investigate how the human body is re-imagined and enacted in singing bowl practices in relation to water. Our interpretation of watery embodiment is guided by the work of cultural theorist Astrida Neimanis (2017), which illustrates how imaginations of embodiment as watery reveal the ways in which human bodies are relational, in the sense that they interconnect and immerse with, as well as depend on, the surrounding world. According to Neimanis, watery bodies intertwine with political, cultural, and ecological issues, especially the Anthropocene. The metaphor of a watery body (in relation, and sometimes in opposition, to dry) offers a perspective that allows us to examine ideas of porosity, fluidity, and relationality, which all constitute central aspects of the body within singing bowl sound healing. Neimanis describes bodies of water as both metaphorical and embodied, as well as dependent on the specific time and place where they become imagined. What is especially of interest to us in Neimanis’ study is the way in which it positions watery human bodies as more permeable, boundless, and responsive to other human and non-human bodies. This is particularly interesting in relation to the previously described idea of Lutheran bodies, which are perceived and enacted as relatively confined and dry. As Neimanis formulates it, “Bodies of water puddle and pool. They seek confluence. They flow into one another in life-giving ways, but also in unwelcome, or unstoppable, incursions. Even in an obstinate stagnancy they slowly seep

196 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

and leak. We owe our own bodies of water to others, in both dribbles and deluges” (Neimanis 2017, 29).

Ritual Body Pedagogics and Somatic Inversions in Sound Healing Our analysis starts with the picture painted above but also from the more focused observation that the introductions to diverse Eastern-inspired approaches to the body are often offered in the form of courses and workshops—that is, as an invitation to come and learn new bodily ways together with others, and often as encouragement to apply the outcome of that learning in different spheres of life. We thus approach our case—Tibetan singing bowls—from the vantage point of religious learning and body pedagogics (Berliner and Sarró 2008; Mellor and Shilling 1997; see also Utriainen 2019; Utriainen et al. forthcoming). Our ethnographic material does not allow us to see the potential long-term outcomes of what will be learned (or new religious habitus, which is the focus in Mellor and Shilling 2010), but it gives us rich snapshots that focus on bodily experience, materiality, imagination, and interpretations of this practice. We pay special attention to how the participants of sound healing are advised and taught, with the help of sound, to guide their attention to the interior of their own bodies and to interpret this new kind of ritualized attention in ways that enhance new bodily imagining in relation to materiality, sociality, and surroundings. Our understanding of ritual follows the well-known notion presented by Jonathan Z. Smith (1987) that ritual is first and foremost a structured way of focusing attention and making a difference. As, for instance, Catherine Bell (2008) has theorized, the object of ritual attention and ritual work is often the human body. By combining these views, we posit that ritual focus of attention to the body, or some aspect of the body, (re)constructs the body’s material and imagined relation to the environment and articulates the possibilities and potentialities of that relation. From this point of departure we explore the ways in which bodies become imagined and materialized in Tibetan sound healing. In order to make our approach as concrete as possible and also comparable with previous research, we make use of the notion of “somatic inversion” as recently articulated by Winchester and Pagis (2021), who seek sociologically valid new ways to study religious experience. Somatic

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

197

inversion further defines the notion “somatic modes of attention”, which they borrow from anthropologist Thomas Csordas (1994), as attention that is given to the awareness of specific bodily gestures or sensations. In somatic inversions, attention is given to inner aspects of embodiment that are often left unnoticed in the daily course of life: Somatic inversions, as we define them, are experiences in which dimensions of human embodiment that usually remain in the tacit background of action and perception are brought to the experiential foreground of awareness. While such inversions can and do occur incidentally in the course of everyday life, most if not all religious traditions have practices that actively seek to create, cultivate, and enhance these experiences—practices such as fasting, prayer, meditation, pilgrimage, faith healing, self-flagellation, etc. (Winchester and Pagis 2021, 13; italics in original)

Winchester and Pagis note that somatic inversions are not intrinsically religious but rather a more general affordance that can be cultivated and given religious interpretations. Ritual, however, is often the frame for learning both to pay attention to and to provide religious or other interpretations to somatic inversions, as is also the case with Tibetan sound healing.

Eastern Influences on Contemporary Spirituality One example of a relatively new practice with Eastern influences that is currently gaining popularity is the practice of Tibetan singing bowl sound healing. Tibetan singing bowls are metal bowls of different sizes, which make a bell-like sound when struck or rubbed with a stick. While the bowls are often portrayed as having a history in Tibetan religious and spiritual ceremonies (Goldsby et al. 2017; Perry 2014), the Tibetan history of singing bowls is a debated issue, which we will shortly return to in more detail. Today Tibetan bowls play an essential role in the larger field of sound healing in contemporary western societies, where sounds created with the human voice, or different “therapeutic instruments”, including singing bowls, are understood to promote holistic health, especially by reducing stress and anxiety (see, e.g., Medi-Sound 2014). One popular way of performing singing bowl sound relaxation technique in Finland is through sound massage, where singing bowls are played on top of the body for the

198 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

purpose of stress reduction and overall well-being. Another common practice is sound bathing, where participants listen to and “bathe” in sounds made with singing bowls, gongs, or bells. Sound baths and massages are frequently offered by various service providers, such as yoga studios and wellness centres globally. Furthermore, the idea of healing sounds is present in various popular cultural products, such as books on popular psychology (e.g. Grönwall 2010). One prominent example of sound healing in popular culture is the Islandic musical band Sigur Rós, which has incorporated sound baths into their performances for the purpose of introducing healing aspects to popular music. This is a phenomenon that is to some extent also familiar in popular music globally (see Weiner 2020). Such a broad application suggests that the idea of sound as healing is not a marginal phenomenon but in fact integrated in mainstream culture worldwide as well as in a particularly Nordic context. Tibetan singing bowls are employed in various spiritual and secular settings in Nordic societies. As the ethnographic research data gathered as part of the LeNeRe project suggests, in Finland singing bowls are applied in combination with yoga, meditation, and traditional massage therapy, as well as congregational retreats and activities. Singing bowls therefore exemplify a flexible practice that is variously interpreted, practised, and appropriated in many settings. Previous research on the use of Tibetan singing bowls in Western societies has mostly approached the practice, and especially the promoting of its benefits, from biomedical and psychological perspectives (e.g. Fernández Llorente and Partesotti 2016; Goldsby et al. 2017; Stanhope and Weinstein 2020). Some research on music and alternative therapy in general also touches on the topic (Gioia 2006; Barcan 2011; Lederach and Lederach 2010). Studies addressing the use of singing bowls from a cultural perspective, including the study of religions, has been far less studied (however, see Annunen and Utriainen 2023; Snow 2011; Brown 2020). At the time of writing, we have not been able to find any studies considering the use of Tibetan singing bowls or sound healing in contemporary Nordic countries from a cultural studies perspective, despite the fact that the practice is quite prevalent. As is common for holistic practices in general, a clear majority of the participants of the observed courses, as well as interviewees and diary authors, were women. Their ages varied from approximately thirty to seventy, but most were around forty to fifty years old. This democratic tendency was also for the most part supported by the interviews that were

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

199

done with the course organizers, who were asked to describe a typical participant in their courses. With regard to the socio-economic status of the participants, it should be mentioned that the observed courses usually had a participation fee, which might suggest that the participants had some extra disposable income. Practically all of the research participants had engaged in at least one course or workshop on sound healing. They worked, for example, in the fields of education, health care, or the arts, and many had become entrepreneurs, providing sound relaxation and other holistic services as their primary occupation. Many had a Lutheran background. A few mentioned an interest in Eastern practices in general, and some in world religions. Many had also studied other kinds of new spiritual practices, such as reiki, which was referred to the most often. In Finland, Tibetan singing bowls are often taught and practised by private entrepreneurs who operate in the fields of health and well-being, sports, or beauty. Courses in Tibetan singing bowls were offered, for example, at yoga studios, adult education centres, and private spaces, such as homes or premises that were rented for the purpose. Additionally, education in singing bowls is arranged internationally by the Peter Hess Institute, which is based in Germany and acts as an umbrella organization for more than twenty-two local PH academies in different countries. Since 2010, one national PH academy, Medi-Sound Kg, has trained certified experts in the method in Finland. According to the Institute’s website, there also exists one certified PH academy in Sweden (Vita Raeda) and one in Denmark (Nordlys Centret). Additionally, two contact persons are named for Norway.2 As local PH academies and contact persons are authorized to educate and certify practitioners of the Peter Hess Institute’s technique of sound relaxation, it is safe to assume that the method is also taught, provided, and practised in all of the aforementioned Nordic countries. In this chapter, we approach the phenomenon of Tibetan singing bowls in the Nordic context of contemporary Finland. In the following sections, we approach the purposes of this chapter (presented in the introduction) by analysing the ritual dimension of the practice by studying how changing imaginations and materializations of the human body are expressed among learners and practitioners of Tibetan singing bowl relaxation in Finland. One important thing that happens in singing bowl relaxation is that the body, and particularly its interior, becomes imagined as largely water that interacts and is connected with external sounds and vibrations.

200 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

Sound Healing and Tibetan Roots: The Case of Peter Hess Singing Bowl Relaxation As already mentioned, in the West singing bowls are frequently associated with an Eastern heritage. The idea that singing bowls originate from Tibet is especially widespread. Western ideas of a romanticized and idealized Tibet as a special place with great mythological and spiritual value are by no means unique for the practice of singing bowls. Images of a spiritual Tibet are, for example, frequently presented in movies (Mullen 1998) and wellness practices (Islam 2012), and are a common feature of New Age spirituality in general (e.g. Korom 2001). Buddhist and Tibetan backgrounds are frequently also emphasized in commercial, scholarly, and popular texts about singing bowls for the express purpose of portraying the practice as inherently ancient and mystical (Brown 2020; Congdon 2007). The Eastern origins of Tibetan singing bowls are a debated issue, however. While some scholars somewhat uncritically define the bowls as Tibetan (e.g. Goldsby et al. 2017; Schussel and Miller 2013), others have pointed out that singing bowls in fact constitute a Western invention that gained popularity in the 1960s, together with the rise of New Age spiritualities (Brown 2020; Congdon 2007). While it is neither our place nor our purpose in this chapter to assess whether practices of singing bowl sound healing in Finland actually originate from Eastern practices or not, a few words could be said about the role of Eastern spirituality in Western settings. From this perspective, the fascination with Tibet as a place of origin in singing bowl practices is far from surprising. Congdon (2007, 197) describes “Tibet” as a brand-like attribute, used for promoting “representations of Tibet as containing healing or saving powers that are discovered and perpetuated by Westerners”. Such romanticized ideas of Tibet and Eastern spiritualities often also produce moral and ethical issues (Lopez 1998). Furthermore, what is read into ideas of East and West is not unproblematic, as such concepts have lost some of their relevance in the global era and are tightly entangled with histories of colonization (Lopez 1998; Borup and Qvortrup Fibiger 2017). As demonstrated by Borup and Qvortrup Fibiger (2017), these influences do not simply travel from East to West but are instead expressed, reproduced, and appropriated in more complex circular processes as Western modifications are frequently brought “back home” to an Eastern context.

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

201

Our previous analysis of workbooks and manuals for Peter Hess sound relaxation, however, brings forth a somewhat more nuanced situation (Annunen and Utriainen 2023). In the case of training in Peter Hess sound relaxation, Eastern and Tibetan roots were only seldom mentioned and the idea of the bowls as sacred Tibetan instruments was explicitly denounced. Instead, the workbooks identify Peter Hess, a German engineer and the founder of the Institute, as the primary creator of this specific technique. However, Eastern influences still play an important part, as Hess’ experiences in Nepal, India, and Tibet, together with his “previous knowledge on sound (for example, from Ayurveda)” (Medi-Sound 2014, 33), are mentioned as important sources for his knowledge on singing bowls. Peter Hess’ workbooks to some degree therefore present a contradictory image, simultaneously both emphasizing and problematizing the idea of Eastern origins. Such negotiations may reflect similar cultural transitions that can be observed, for example, in the case of mindfulness, which has increasingly been incorporated into seemingly secular environments, such as conventional health care and the workplace (Annunen and Utriainen 2023; see also, e.g., Husgafvel 2016; Wilson 2014).3

Embodiment, Fluids, and Sonic Vibrations Interpretations that emphasize the human body as watery were extensively presented during an observed introductory course in sound relaxation. It furthermore accounts for a theme that was well elaborated by the research participants and is addressed in workbooks. It can therefore be described as an essential idea for the ideology and practice of Tibetan singing bowl sound relaxation. The body’s watery consistency was frequently brought up, for example, when we asked the interlocutors to describe how singing bowls worked. One of the interviewees answered this question in the following way: It is really personal, but if we regard it from a physical level, the sound moves in water really well, and when our bodies are mostly made of water, this is why the sound waves also can move really deep in our bodies. Those [the bowls] are sound therapeutic instruments that affect our muscles, cells and organs. (Interview 1)

202 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

As the response illustrates, an understanding of the body as largely made up of water is of primary importance for the practice and constitutes a way in which the body become articulated in the data. Sounds from the singing bowls are described to travel and penetrate the human body by means of bodily fluids. As sound is imagined to travel through the body with the help of water, it has the ability to reach and affect parts that are normally out of reach, or at least quite hard to touch, such as cells, inner organs, and muscles. The primary way to internalize sound is thus through the fluids of the human body. Relevant for this understanding is the notion that sound moves well in water, which is extensively validated and explained by referring to scientific theories mostly based on the field of physics. This is especially apparent in the manual for the observed introductory course, where the relation between sound and water is frequently accounted for in this manner. As we have argued, scientific explanations of the ways in which sound acts in water thus operate as a way to legitimize and explain the bodily benefits of the practice, as well as how it connects outer and inner realms (Annunen and Utriainen 2023). Moreover, during the participant observations we could notice ritualized materializations of the relationship between sound, the body, and water. Here the ideal was conceptualized both verbally and through material and embodied practices. One example of a practice where the idea of sound waves moving through bodily fluids came up was during participant observation. To demonstrate how sound affects our watery bodies, the teacher of the course placed a balloon in a large singing bowl filled with water. Playing the singing bowl, the teacher guided attention to how the sounds created by it produced waves on top of the water, consequently moving the balloon as well. When playing the bowl quietly, the balloon moved peacefully up and down in the water, but when the teacher struck the bowl harder, the balloon started jumping uncontrollably. This was described to mimic how vibrations from singing bowls move our bodily fluids and “massage us from the inside”. The teacher pointed out that this demonstrated how and why singing bowls should be played in a soft and calm way. This was described as a safer and more relaxing way to play the bowls, which also constitutes one of the core principles and an ideal that was frequently shared and underlined during the course: “less is more and quietly is better”. The principle and exercise were clearly also adopted by the practitioners, as can be noted in the following quote by an interviewee:

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

203

when someone asks me to play harder, I have argued that as the adult human body is over 60 percent water, and then I have also put water into the bowl to show how it vibrates, that you don’t have to play loud to relax. (Peer group 1-1)

This shows how ideas and practices taught and internalized during the introductory course are used and translated into the practice of individuals. Through verbal and textual instructions as well as practical exercises, the practitioners are taught how to use sound to affect and interact with a body that is first and foremost imagined through its fluids. Furthermore, it can be noted that sound is not solely regarded as something positive and beneficial for the human body. Instead, the risks of playing the bowls too loudly were often emphasized in our research data. This risk was also materialized and made tangible in the exercise of the singing bowl filled with water. By associating the movement of water in the singing bowl with the ways that bodily fluids react to the sounds from the singing bowls, the body was ritually and materially re-interpreted as a particularly watery body. The internal composition of the body as watery in turn made it possible for it to be affected by sonic vibrations. This also entails the risk of playing the bowls too hard, causing the fluids of the body to react in unwanted ways. Thus, the interpretation of the watery body acquired through the practice of Tibetan singing bowls in some cases also entails that the body is more vulnerable than a relatively dry imagined Lutheran body. Another example of a ritualized exercise guiding the practitioners to sense and interpret their bodies as watery is presented in the course manual: It can be pleasant to take the singing bowl with you to the bathtub. […] the vibrations spread all over the water and touch the body. All of these practices and experiments help to imagine how sounds from the singing bowls move in the body, which consists 70–80% of fluids, and also massage it gently. (Medi-­ Sound 2014, 59; our emphasis)

Here the reader is advised to use the surrounding external water in the bathtub both to sense vibrations created by the singing bowl and to imagine how sonic vibrations move internally within the bodily fluids. The description can thus be regarded as a practical exercise for guiding and directing one’s attention inside, and this process is strongly connected to the imagination of a watery body. Furthermore, the example brings forth

204 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

how internal and external waterscapes are intertwined and connected in the practice of singing bowl sound relaxation.

Body Pedagogics and Somatic Inversions in Tibetan Singing Bowls Learning interpretations of the body as filled with water that transports sound and vibrations can be regarded as reflecting a form of body pedagogics constructed both ritually through exercises and discursively through scientific explanations. By engaging with such versatile constructions of the human body as watery, porous, and limitless, practitioners of singing bowl sound healing learn to re-imagine the human body in a profoundly different way than what is permitted by Lutheran imaginations of the human body as relatively dry, controlled, bounded, and strictly confined. The rhetoric and exercises exemplify a practice of somatic inversion, bringing a relatively (both intentionally and unintentionally) hidden aspect of the human body—namely, bodily fluids—to the fore. This is intriguing because some bodily fluids are often treated as a taboo or met with disgust and repulsion, both in history and in modern times (Bradley et al. 2021). Through exercises and descriptions presented during courses and workshops, the practitioners of singing bowls learn how to enact, affect, and experience this essentially wet embodiment. In other words, they learn what possibilities and dangers this new idea of embodiment entails. At the core of the transmission and incorporation of this novel body image is the idea that a watery body can be affected by means of sound and vibration. Consequently, the human body is sensed and imagined as increasingly limitless, a body that can be touched and influenced through the “waterways” of our bodily fluids. The human body thus becomes regarded as permeable, open, and in tune with the surrounding world, blurring the lines between the inner and outer realms. As one interviewee explained: “if you just want to, this [Tibetan singing bowl relaxation] really opens up the entire universe” (Peer group 1-2).4

Unlimited Watery Bodies The body’s connection to others and the surrounding environment is a common topic in our research data. This connection and the opening up of the human body were primarily addressed in relation to the natural

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

205

elements. Some described this as a surprising result, while others deliberately strived to establish such connections through sound. Water, especially in relation to the fluids of the human body, was again brought into focus when discussing the connection between the inner and outer realms. One example of this came up during a peer-group interview where one of the participants described how playing the singing bowls when it rained was “a beautiful experience” of “tuning the sounds of the bowls with sounds of the rain” (Peer group 1-2). This represents one of the more subtle ways in the material of describing a connection to outer aspects. Somewhat more clearly, another research participant described how she used to arrange sound baths outdoors in the forest. According to her, the benefit of conducting sound baths in nature is that it allows for “interaction with nature”. Moreover, she pointed out that people who have practised sound relaxation are more “open to experiment with practices that establish nature connections” (Thematic writing 7). A third (and the most obvious) example, which also explicitly connects the watery body with the outside world, was described in a thematic writing where the research participant addressed how she uses sound to connect with nature: All nature around us is alive and we can be in connection to it. We are a part of nature. If we pollute the nature, we also pollute ourselves. My dream is to travel to Japan to participate in Hado training (Messages from Water established by Masaru Emoto), where you use sound to influence water and that way also human beings. Human beings are mostly made of water 60–70%. (Thematic writing 4)

The connection to the outside world is explicitly described to happen by connecting inner and outer waterscapes, thus connecting the somatic with a larger interpretative frame. While this description is done in relation to the author’s practice of sound healing, the writer furthermore associates it with an additional Eastern practice, Japanese Hado, together with the notion of the human body as watery. The influence of Masaru Emoto’s ideas of water can more generally be observed in other spiritual practices as well (Hammer and Swartz 2020, 102). It is this watery existence that appears to connect the writer’s personal watery body to “those hard-to-­ fathom phenomena”, such as climate change and environmental issues in general (Neimanis 2017, 17).

206 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

Besides adopting new imaginations of the body, characterized by and bringing to the fore the wetness of the human body, the practitioners extend the limits of and open up their bodies to interact with the surrounding environment. In some cases this may bring up individual and collective concerns and issues related to the surrounding world.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries Tibetan sound healing is a relatively recent example of the popularity of Eastern spiritual practices in Finland. Like many other similar practices, its Eastern origins are a matter of debate and can at least be partly understood as a discursive layer that adds to its attractiveness. In Finland, sound healing is often offered as courses provided by private actors, and these courses mostly draw well-educated Lutheran or post-Lutheran female participants who are interested in personal well-being as well as learning new ways to understand their place and relations in the surrounding world. Our ethnographic study approached sound healing as a ritual that guides the participants’ attention to their bodies and embodied selves in ways that were to some extent new to them. The perspective of “somatic inversion”, borrowed from the work by Daniel Winchester and Michael Pagis, helped further sharpen our analytical focus regarding what was said about and done with the ritual body and its multiple sensations. As became apparent in singing bowl courses and related workbooks, and drawing on both spiritual and scientific language, the human body is articulated and imagined as consisting mostly of fluids and water. In the sound healing ritual, the attention of the practitioners was in many subtle, material ways guided to realize how significant vibrations travel in the watery body, connecting it with external realms, including water in nature and the vibrations of the universe. According to previous research, the ideal type of Protestant bodies has largely been bounded and controlled by cognition. However, sociologists Philip Mellor and Chris Shilling have already some decades ago predicted that the imagined and lived constructions of post-Protestant bodies are undergoing a process of change towards new, less bounded and more multiply and fluidly sensuous forms. Our case of Tibetan sound healing offers interesting snapshots on this change by showing how some Finns have become interested in imagining and ritually experimenting with their

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

207

bodies via emerging (post-human) bodily imaginaries that are considerably different from traditional (relatively anthropocentric) Lutheran ones. We suggest that at least part of the attraction of learning the practice of sound healing is precisely that it offers ways to conceive of and experience the body as relational in new ways, that is, as watery, vibrating, and unbounded. This provides experiences and imaginaries of embodiment that are either alternative or complementary to (post-)Lutheran understandings of the body. That this kind of new bodily imagination may result from learning from an Eastern (or “Eastern”) practice is a complex and intriguing issue that calls for further research in the Nordic context. Acknowledgement  This chapter is written as part of the research project Learning from new religion and spirituality (LeNeRe), funded by the Academy of Finland (325148).

Notes 1. Education and early socialization are good examples of social spheres in which order, bodily discipline, and control were emphasized as both religious and civil virtues from the seventeenth century onwards; to some extent, that has continued up till today. (Salmesvuori and Salmi-­ Niklander 2011). 2. https://www.peter-­hess-­institut.de/kontakt-­international Accessed 30 Jan 2023. 3. How much the problematization of Eastern origins is a result of the Nordic (i.e. Finnish) context of the workbooks is beyond the scope of our data. It might, however, be pointed out that in Brown’s (2020) and Congdon’s (2007) studies on singing bowls in North American cultures, such reflections appear to be far less prominent. 4. Such an idea of opening up the body is not restricted to the practice of Tibetan singing bowls but instead constitutes a core idea in esoteric and New Age spirituality (e.g. Johnston 2008).

References Ahonen, Johanna. 2014. Finnish Women’s Turn Toward India: Negotiations Between Lutheran Christianity and Indian Spirituality. In Finnish Women Making Religion: Between Ancestors and Angels, ed. Terhi Utriainen and Päivi Salmesvuori, 217–235. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

208 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

Annunen, Linda, and Terhi Utriainen. 2023. Ways of Learning in Spiritual Self-­ Help: Singing Bowl Handbooks and Manuals. Numen: International Review for the History of Religions 2-3: 139–162. Barcan, Ruth. 2011. Complementary and Alternative Medicine: Bodies, Therapies and Senses. Abingdon: Routledge. Bell, Catherine. 2008. Embodiment. In Theorizing Rituals: Issues, Topics, Approaches, Concepts, ed. Jens Kreinath et al., 534–543. Leiden: Brill. Berliner, David, and Ramon Sarró. 2008. Learning Religion: Anthropological Perspectives. New York: Berghahn Books. Borup, Jørn, and Marianne C. Qvortrup Fibiger. 2017. Eastspirit: Transnational Spirituality and Religious Circulation in East and West. Leiden: Brill. Bradley, Mark, Victoria Leonard, and Laurence Totelin. 2021. Bodily Fluids in Antiquity. Abingdon: Routledge. Brown, Candy Gunther. 2020. Tibetan Singing Bowls. American Religion 2: 52–73. Congdon, Darinda J. 2007. “Tibet chic”: Myth, Marketing, Spirituality and Politics in Musical Representations of Tibet in the United States. PhD dissertation, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh. Csordas, Thomas J. 1994. The Sacred Self: A Cultural Phenomenology of Charismatic Healing. Berkeley: University of California Press. Fernández Llorente, Elena, and Elena Partesotti. 2016. Tibetan Singing Bowls as Useful Vibroacoustic Instruments in Music Therapy: A Practical Approach. Nordic Journal of Music Therapy 25: 126–127. Gioia, Ted. 2006. Healing Songs. Durham: Duke University Press. Goldsby, Tamara L., et al. 2017. Effects of Singing Bowl Sound Meditation on Mood, Tension, and Well-being: An Observational Study. Journal of Evidence-­ Based Complementary & Alternative Medicine 3: 401–406. Grönwall, Eva. 2010. Helande toner: Om tonernas läkande kraft. Västerås: Solrosen. Hammer, Olav, and Karen Swartz. 2020. The Bosnian Pyramid Phenomenon. Nova Religio 4: 94–110. Hellqvist, Elina, and Jyri Komulainen. 2020a. Henkisyyttä ja mielenrauhaa: Aasian uskonnollisuus länsimaissa. Helsinki: Gaudeamus. ———. 2020b. Johdanto. In Henkisyyttä ja mielenrauhaa: Aasian uskonnollisuus länsimaissa, ed. Elina Hellqvist and Jyri Komulainen, 7–13. Helsinki: Gaudeamus. Hornborg, Anne-Christine. 2012. Are You Content with Being Just Ordinary? Or do You Wish to Make Progress and be Outstanding? New Ritual Practices in Contemporary Sweden. Scripta Instituti Donneriani Aboensis 24: 111–127. Husgafvel, Ville. 2016. On the Buddhist Roots of Contemporary Non-religious Mindfulness Practice: Moving Beyond Sectarian and Essentialist Approaches. Temenos - Nordic Journal of Comparative Religion 1: 87–126. Islam, Nazrul. 2012. New Age Orientalism: Ayurvedic “Wellness and Spa Culture”. Health Sociology Review 2: 220–231.

  TOWARDS WATERY AND VIBRATING BODIES: FINNISH BODIES LEARNING… 

209

Johnston, Jay. 2008. Angels of Desire. Esoteric Bodies, Aesthetics and Ethics. London: Routledge. Kaartinen, Marjo. 2020. Spiritistinen istunto. Helsinki: Suomalaisen kirjallisuuden seura. Salmesvuori, Päivi, and Kirsti Salmi-Niklander. 2011. Teema: Uskonto ja kasvatus. Kasvatus & Aika 5: 1–145. Klassen, Pamela E. 2005. Ritual Appropriation and Appropriate Ritual. Christian Healing and Adaptations of Asian Religions. History & Anthropology 3: 377–391. Knuuttila, Maarit. 2011. “Siunaa Jeesus ruokamme. Aamen!”  – Ruokailu ja yhteiset arkiateriat lasten uskonnollisen kotikasvatuksen paikkana 1900-luvun alkuvuosikymmenten Suomessa. Kasvatus & Aika 4: 25–39. Koski, Kaarina. 2011. Uskomusperinne ja kristillinen kasvatus 1800-luvulla. Kasvatus & Aika 4: 9–24. Korom, Frank J. 2001. The Role of Tibet in the New Age Movement. In Imagining Tibet: Perceptions, Projections, & Fantasies, ed. Thierry Dodin and Heinz Rather, 167–183. Boston: Wisdom Publications. Lederach, John Paul, and Angela Jill Lederach. 2010. When Blood and Bones Cry Out: Journeys Through the Soundscape of Healing and Reconciliation. St Lucia: University of Queensland Press. Lopez, Donald S. 1998. Prisoners of Shangri-La: Tibetan Buddhism and the West. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Mellor, Philip A., and Chris Shilling. 1997. Re-forming the Body: Religion, Community, and Modernity. London: Sage. ———. 2010. Body Pedagogics and the Religious Habitus: A New Direction for the Sociological Study of Religion. Religion 1: 27–38. Medi-Sound. 2014. Peter Hess® äänimetodit: Peter Hess® äänimaljahieronta taso I [Peter Hess® Sound Method: Peter Hess Sound Massage Level I]. Peter Hess® Academy Finland. Bruchhausen-Vilsen: Peter Hess Institut. Mullen, Eve. 1998. Orientalist Commercializations: Tibetan Buddhism in American Popular Film. Journal of Religion & Film 2: Article 5. Neimanis, Astrida. 2017. Bodies of Water: Posthuman Feminist Phenomenology. London: Bloomsbury Academic. Perry, Frank. 2014. Himalayan Sound Revelations: The Complete Singing Bowl Book. London: Polair Publishing. Salmenniemi, Suvi, Johanna Nurmi, Inna Perheentupa, and Harley Bergroth. 2019. From Culture to Assemblages: An Introduction. In Assembling Therapeutics: Culture, Politics and Materiality, ed. Suvi Salmenniemi, Johanna Nurmi, Inna Perheentupa, and Harley Bergroth, 11–19. Abingdon: Routledge. Schussel, Lorne, and Lisa Miller. 2013. Best Self Visualization Method with High-­ Risk Youth. Journal of Clinical Psychology 8: 836–845.

210 

L. ANNUNEN AND T. UTRIAINEN

Sinnemäki, Kaius, Robert H. Nelson, Anneli Portman, and Jouni Tilli. 2019. The Legacy of Lutheranism in a Secular Nordic Society: An Introduction. In The Legacy of Lutheranism in Finland: Societal Perspectives, ed. Kaius Sinnemäki, Anneli Portman, Jouni Tilli, and Robert H.  Nelson, 9–36. Helsinki: The Finnish Literature Society. Smith, Jonathan Z. 1987. To Take Place: Toward Theory in Ritual. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Snow, Shelley. 2011. Healing Through Sound: An Exploration of Vocal Sound Healing Method in Great Britain. Montreal: Concordia University. Stanhope, Jessica, and Philip Weinstein. 2020. The Human Health Effects of Singing Bowls: A Systematic Review. Complementary Therapies in Medicine 51: 1–7. Stark, Laura. 2006. The Magical Self: Body, Society and the Supernatural in Early Modern Rural Finland. Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica. Tervo-Niemelä, Kati. 2020. Religious Upbringing and Other Religious Influences Among Young Adults and Changes in Faith in the Transition to Adulthood: A 10-Year Longitudinal Study of Young People in Finland. British Journal of Religious Education 4: 443–457. Utriainen, Terhi. 2019. Learning Healing Relationality: Dynamics of Religion and Emotion. In The Routledge Handbook of Language and Emotion, ed. Sonya Pritzker, Janina Fenigsen, and James Wilce, 395–410. London: Routledge. Utriainen, Terhi, Helena Kupari, and Maija Butters. forthcoming Adult Religious Learning: Vernacular and Ethnographic Approaches. Weiner, Natalie. 2020. With Singing Bowls for Your Chakras and Slinky R&B, Jhéne Aiko Wants to Heal You. Los Angeles Times. https://www.latimes.com/ entertainment-­a rts/music/stor y/2020-­1 2-­1 0/jhene-­a iko-­c hilombo-­ grammys-­2021. Accessed 8 Dec 2021. Wilson, Jeff. 2014. Mindful America: The Mutual Transformation of Buddhist Meditation and American Culture. New York: Oxford University Press. Winchester, Daniel, and Michal Pagis. 2021. Sensing the Sacred: Religious Experience, Somatic Inversions, and the Religious Education of Attention. Sociology of Religion 1: 12–35.

Empirical Data The Interviews Archived at the University of Turku Archives of History, Culture and Arts Studies: Interview 1: TKU/A/22/54. Peer group 1-1: TKU/A/22/53. Peer group 1-2: TKU/A/22/50. Thematic writing 7: TKU/O/22/46. Thematic writing 4: TKU/O/22/47.

Meditation and Other New Spiritual Practices in the Church of Sweden Katarina Plank, Linnea Lundgren, and Helene Egnell

Introduction Stockholm, autumn 2022. This evening, we are visiting a meditation gathering that takes place one hour before the evening mass in one of the Lutheran churches in the central parts of the city. We are sitting in a secluded part of the church, eyes either closed, downcast or resting on several icons, and lit candles. Some twenty persons, mostly women (ages varying between 20 and 70), sit on chairs with lightly tilted meditation cushions to help them enhance their sitting position, holding their backs straight. The meditation leader sits on the floor and gives a guided

K. Plank (*) • H. Egnell Department of Political, Historical, Religious and Cultural Studies, Karlstad University, Karlstad, Sweden e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected] L. Lundgren The Department of Civil Society and Religion, Marie Cederschiöld University, Stockholm, Sweden e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s) 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_10

211

212 

K. PLANK ET AL.

meditation that is divided in two 20 minutes periods with a short break in-between. This allows for individual choices to either sit through the entire session, divide the sitting meditation in two shorter sessions along with a short walking meditation in the church, or to leave after the first session. The guided instructions are a mixture of Buddhist insight practices resonating with vipassana meditation – telling us to experience how bodily sensations arise and pass away – and Advaita Vedanta teachings that tells us that there is a steady consciousness that observes all the changes that are constantly taking place within the body and mind. When the meditation session finishes, an invitation to stay for evening mass is extended to the participants. Most of them, including the meditation teacher, leave after the session, but a few stay. Since the church began to offer evening meditation, the meditation teacher has noted that attendance to evening mass has increased. Attracting more participants was one of several reasons for the vicar to ask the meditation teacher to hold the sessions at this time of the day. The meditation teacher, without any formal Christian training, is deeply grounded in meditation practice for more than 30 years. When asked how the meditation practice relates to the Lutheran Church, the meditation teacher sees a close correspondence between the Advaita Vedanta concept of nondualism with Christian mysticism and that the notion of an individual self must wither or shift for something larger: So, I have thought a lot about; is this somehow present in Christianity? And I absolutely think it is there within Christianity and Christian mysticism and there are others who think so as well. Me myself, I have arrived at what is central in Jesus’ teaching, a central thing, I think, is that … he points to that what we normally identify with needs to die or it needs to … what can you say, fade away, it is maybe rather the conception that there really might be a subject … that conception needs to fade away.

The meditation teacher quotes former Archbishop KG Hammar, who has identified the central religious question to be the notion of the subject. In his book Samtal om Gud [Conversations on God], KG Hammar discusses how the mystics experience that God becomes the subject in the individual’s life as expressed in Paul’s Letter to the Galatians “it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2:20, NSRV).

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

213

So … there is no end to how much you can find about this also within Christianity. So when I started looking at this I felt more and more comfortable that “Yes I can talk about this in the church”.

The evening meditation is one of many new spiritual practices that are offered as activities by parishes. Similar practices include sacred dances, pilgrimages, meditations, yoga, qi gong, and more, activities that we have mapped, observed, alongside interviews with leaders and participants.1 There’s a plethora of new activities that have emerged during the last 50 years in the Church of Sweden and while many of these activities are geared toward community building, 15% of them fall into the category of holistic practices, for example, meditation groups, yoga classes, and dance and found in eight out of ten parishes in the diocese of Stockholm (Lundgren et al. 2023). Some of the activities are led by ordained priests or deacons; however, many are led by laypeople, with no formal theological training. As ritual specialists, they convey knowledge of techniques of the body or mind that did not exist in church settings only 50 years ago, and in this chapter, we present some initial findings from an ongoing research project based on observations from twenty-two different meditations, yoga sessions, and dances within the Church of Sweden.

From New Age to Lived Religion Many studies in recent decades have focused on new forms of spirituality. In the 1980s and 1990s, a New Age movement was identified on the fringes of the church sphere and the term “Christaquarians” was coined as a designation for its practitioners (Jorgensen 1982; Heelas 1996; Kemp 2003, Saliba 1999). In Heelas and Woodhead’s ground-breaking study The Spiritual Revolution (2005), where they examined the small British town of Kendal to understand where people gathered to encounter the sacred, the goal was to examine how spirituality affected the religious landscape. Both congregations and holistic settings were examined to test the thesis of whether a spiritual revolution had taken place; has (individual) spirituality become more important than (institutional) religion? The results showed that there had been a significant shift in the religious landscape, although it could not be proven that a spiritual revolution had taken place. However, several mini-revolutions could be discerned: (1) the size of the holistic groups could be larger than the smaller Christian

214 

K. PLANK ET AL.

congregations, (2) there was a strong vitality in certain holistic practices, such as yoga, and (3) there was a strong emphasis on health (wellbeing). The study gave rise to several other studies, not least in the Nordic countries. In a Swedish context, the Enköping study investigated how people related to religion and the expressions of religiosity in our time (Ahlstrand and Gunner 2008) and the study of Dalarna’s religious landscape explored new arenas for religion and spirituality (Frisk and Åkerbäck 2013). In Denmark, researchers have followed the contemporary religious development in Aarhus through surveys conducted in 2001–2003, 2012–2013, and 2021–2022 (The Danish Pluralism Project). In Norway, Mikaelsson (2017) has studied church strategies in relation to New Age and concludes that spirituality poses a particular challenge, as its character is more fluid. In Finland, research projects have studied the development in the outskirts of the church, thus highlighting the fluidity, diversity, and new spaces that are created (Nynäs et al. 2015). The practices we examine have often been described as New Age spirituality or ‘alternative spirituality’ by researchers in religious studies (Suthcliffe and Bowman 2000). Several of the practices have a long historical tradition in both Sweden and Europe and have been parts of an esoteric or holistic milieu, or as occurring among new religious movements, with a focus on individual spirituality (e.g., see Frisk 1998; Hammer 1997, 2013; Sutcliffe 2003; Sutcliffe and Gilhus 2013; Svanberg and Westerlund 2008). Researchers often note that the practices are privatized, that is, they take place in the private sphere and are sometimes also deinstitutionalized and detraditionalized. Many of these practices do not have to be perceived as religious by the person who practices them but can instead be understood as various forms of “secular sacralisation”, a kind of secular spirituality in the borderland of religion, where health has become an important part of the meaning of life (Jespers 2014). However, the analytical distinction between (institutional) religion and (individual) spirituality can be difficult to uphold and, according to Ammerman (2014), should rather be understood as a continuum. Ammerman therefore advocates for a lived religion approach where both individual practices and social institutions are connected and analyzed from the perspective of how they influence each other: “[L]ived religion can describe practices that are indirectly religious, that is, actions that people themselves do not personally and directly experience as transcendent, but nevertheless are defined as religious by their connotations to

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

215

institutions, identities, and groups that are understood to be religious in their culture” (Ammerman 2021, 29). Research on lived religion has frequently turned its focus from institutions and organized religion to study the everyday life of laypeople. Our purpose is instead to investigate everyday spiritual activities that laypeople engage in within ecclesial institutions and how these practices are linked to notions about religion and health. The Danish researchers Vejrup Nielsen and Helboe Johansen (2019) have also pointed to the importance of including a lived religion perspective in the study of majority churches to pay attention to how traditions change in contemporary contexts. Our research project The New Faces of the Folk Church – New Spiritual Practices, Lived Religion and Theological Legitimacy addresses this by focusing on new spiritual practices within an institutional framework, namely the Church of Sweden’s parishes in the Diocese of Stockholm.2 The practices we study take place as an integral part of the parishes’ range of activities and are in many cases led by laypeople who are not necessarily employed by the parish. We make a distinction between activities that are advertised by the parishes on their websites, and practices, what is “done” during the activities. Here, we follow Ammerman’s definition of practices as “a cluster of actions that are socially recognizable and where others understand how to respond”, that is, practices don’t necessarily have to be something formalized into a ritual.

The Nordic Context The other Nordic countries, Denmark, Finland, and Norway have a similar history as Sweden with Evangelical-Lutheran state churches, identifying as “folk churches”. Only the Danish church remains as a state church, but all are still majority churches trying to reorient themselves in an increasingly multicultural and multireligious context. In a Nordic context, it is noteworthy that a large proportion of the population are still members of the majority Evangelical-Lutheran churches. However, there is a steady decline in membership, as well as in religious belief and practice, with more and more people having no religious affiliation. This is seen as a sign of secularization at the individual level, while religious diversity and alternative spirituality are increasing (Furseth et  al. 2017) (See also the introduction for a fuller discussion). Sweden is often recognized as a highly secular country. Although this may be true in regard to church attendance and belief in traditional

216 

K. PLANK ET AL.

religious doctrines, given that Swedes score low in orthodox beliefs (such as the belief in resurrection and church-related faith in God) (Bäckström et al. 2004) and only 5% of the Swedish population regularly attend church services (Willander 2019). Sweden is simultaneously being recognized as one of the most multireligious countries in Europe and a majority of the population are still members in a faith community, with 55% belonging to the Church of Sweden (Willander 2019). Also, church rituals such as the christening of babies, confirmation, weddings, and funerals still hold an important role in people’s lives (Bäckström et al. 2004). While most people say they do not believe in a personal God, around 50% of the population say they believe in “some form of power or force” (Willander 2022). Consequently, this makes the simplified claim of Sweden as the world’s most secular country problematic. As such, the newly introduced concept of “religious complexity” is useful to understand the Nordic context as it refers to the mix of religious decline, growth, and change at different levels (Furseth 2018). In terms of the religious landscape, the majority church, the Church of Sweden, has had a historically strong position in Swedish society and held the position as a state church until the year 2000 when it separated from the state. Despite the separation, the Church of Sweden still holds a semi-­ official role today as it is entrusted with certain public services (such as a responsibility for burial grounds) (Pettersson 2017). Until the latter part of the twentieth century, a large majority of Swedes belonged to the Church of Sweden, and in 2000, 83% of the population were still members. Although this number has declined since then, studies have shown that a large majority still feel a sense of belonging to the Church of Sweden (Bäckström 2017) and scholars have consequentially referred to the relationship between the Swedish population and the Church of Sweden as a representative example of the notion of vicarious religion, that is, when “religion is performed by an active minority but on behalf of a much larger number, who (implicitly at least) not only understand, but, quite clearly, approve of what the minority is doing” (Davie 2007, 22). It has thus been argued that the folk church has a dual function: on the one hand, a theological dimension with religious specialists and religiously committed members and, on the other hand, a popular religious dimension where people can have many different motivations for participating in life cycle rituals and that this can coexist with other private beliefs (Beyer 1994; Luhmann 1977, 1982). Based on our data, we would instead argue for that the church has (at least) four functions: (1) theological; (2) life cycle

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

217

related; (3) ordinary community building; and (4) holistic everyday spiritual practices (Lundgren et al. 2023). The theological function conveys Christian faith and interpretations, and herein falls services, Bible study groups, as well as other tasks that fall on priests and deacons such as pastoral care and support during grief processing. For the laity, there are several ways to interact with the church: either through life cycle rituals associated with birth, wedding, and death; through social spaces in everyday life where the church offers meeting places, social engagement, and leisure activities such as choir singing, music, lunches, sewing associations, youth activities, and pram walks; or by participating in everyday holistic practices at a non-elitist level, with exercises that develop body, mind, and spirit.

From Exclusive Retreats to Everyday Spiritual Practices We have classified new spiritual practices as new in the context of the Church of Sweden, even if they existed in older church traditions, such as icon painting (from the Orthodox Church) and Ignatian exercises (from the Roman Catholic Church). To be able to sort through the large range of activities that take place today and assess how “new” they are, we have made a historical comparison based on the government investigation Churches and Communities in Sweden: Scope and Activities (SOU 1963/39) which reports on the activities organized by the Church of Sweden in the early 1960s. At that time, there were already a variety of activities in addition to church services such as choirs, sewing societies, children’s and youth activities, scouts, church brothers, and more. During the decade that followed, further development occurred. The 1970s were the time of group work, notes Caroline Krook (2020) in her book about the Stockholm diocese, and it also characterized the church as a place where conversation would replace one-way communication. That adults gather in groups in church to do something other than handicraft, sing, or study the Bible is therefore something new. Many new practices such as adult catechumenates and Alpha groups, bereavement groups, and discussion groups with a focus on personal development as well as Bible studies in the form of Lectio Divina constitutes new forms of the church’s traditional work with teaching and pastoral care. Many of the activities that are documented from the 1960s and 1970s still occur and still constitute a large part of the parishes’ activities.

218 

K. PLANK ET AL.

The new spiritual practices have different origins. While some come from an older Christian tradition or from churches other than the Lutheran (they are thus new in the context of the Church of Sweden), others stem from Eastern religious traditions, have a secular background, or come from Western New Age environments. We have identified different contexts from which these practices entered the Church of Sweden: humanistic psychology, Asian body-mind techniques, ecumenism, New Age and alternative spirituality, and feminist theological practice.3 Humanistic psychology is one major and early influence. In the 1930s, when developing Christian pastoral care, early proponents took inspiration from the emerging humanistic psychology. St. Luke’s Foundation [St Lukas Stiftelsen] began to offer both psychotherapy and pastoral care, and its founder, the Methodist pastor Göte Bergsten, was also involved in introducing retreats in Sweden with inspiration from the Anglican Church in England. They built on the so-called Ignatian exercises, a concept which was not widely used in pastoral care in the Church of Sweden until the 1990s, not least given the suspicion of anything Catholic that was considerable in the 1930s. A second source are the Asian body-mind techniques that were introduced in the Church of Sweden in the 1970s in the form of Zen meditation, which was practiced at the Meditationsgården attached to St. Davidsgården (founded in the 1960s at the first retreat center in Sweden), where the priest and professor of religious philosophy Hans Hof was active. He saw meditation as a path to physical and psychological healing. There was also the Dominican sister and psychotherapist Monica Bexell, who used meditation as a method in her therapeutic activities. An influential book by Wilfrid Stinnisen, Kristen djupmeditation [Christian Deep Meditation] was published in 1978, in which he advocated an objectless meditation with focus on sitting posture inspired by Zen meditation. Another center for Zen-inspired meditation under the auspices of the Church of Sweden was the Student Priest’s activity in Liberiet in Lund, starting in the 1980s and initiated by priest and psychotherapist Pelle Bengtsson. Finally, in the early 2000s, physiotherapist and psychotherapist Gudrun Khemiri introduced qi gong in several parishes in the Stockholm diocese. A third source of influence has been ecumenism. Catholics have internationally been pioneers in being inspired by Asian spiritual practices and adapting them to church practice. The same is true in Sweden, where the development of Zen-inspired meditation was part of the increased

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

219

ecumenical openness during the 1970s and 1980s. As mentioned above, Dominican sisters were present at the center in Rättvik and at the Sigtuna Foundation’s Refugium, the Catholics Gunnel Vallqvist and Gun Kronberg—together with the Church of Sweden priest Sven Åstrand— held courses in what came to be known as Zen-inspired deep meditation. The ecumenical openness also made it possible for practices from the Catholic and Orthodox traditions—such as pilgrimages, Ignatian guidance, and icon painting—to be established in the Church of Sweden without being seen as controversial. A fourth source, albeit lesser than the previous three, comes from what is usually referred to as New Age or alternative spirituality. The center of Findhorn in Scotland is part of the milieu out of which sacred dances emerged, although this movement also links to older ecclesiastical and biblical tradition. Guided meditations, angel practices, and enneagrams also belong to this sphere. The fifth source of influence is connected to the development of feminist theology. An important focus in feminist theological practice is the appreciation of the body as the basis of spirituality. Several conferences have been significant in developing this perspective. The first was held in 1991 in Sigtuna under the title God’s daughter, who are you? Inspired by the World Council of Churches’ Decade in Solidarity with Women 1988–1998, it explored women’s spirituality through the language of myth, creation, and ritual dance. These conferences inspired renewal and helped spread sacred dances in congregations across the country. The practices that were developed in relatively exclusive environments such as retreat centers are thus found today as everyday practices in the congregations of the Church of Sweden.

Analysis of the New Spiritual Practices The netnographic study resulted in a list of 1293 activities, where we collected data on where and when the activity took place, what the target group was, which category of employees led the activity, and how it was described. The quantitative material was then analyzed qualitatively. The analysis work was carried out jointly by the research team, where we coded the activities in two rounds. The first coding was done “bottom up” based on a grounded theory perspective based on the question: What kind of activities are taking place? The second coding was done based on theoretical questions, where we asked: Is there any connection to health, and is there a ritual framing of the activity?

220 

K. PLANK ET AL.

In the first coding, we started from what type of activity we found and came to use the following nine codes: meditation, creative activities, movement, discussion group, meals, open house, culture, music, and leisure activities (see Table 1). We noted early in the survey that the range of activities was considerably wider than it was in 1963, with many community-­building activities, often centered around food in some form. Of the 1293 activities we listed, a large majority, two-thirds, were traditional activities such as choirs and children’s and youth activities. These were grouped under music and leisure activities. We found many different forms of meditation in our material: Zazen, Christian Deep Meditation, Angel Meditation, Eightfold Christian Path Meditation, Heart Meditation, Mindfulness, or simply Meditation. Different meditation practices made up 6% of all activities. The creative practices formed a broad field, including various forms of image creation as well as writing, drama, and horticulture. Within image creation, we also found both icon painting and freer forms of painting. The creative practices made up about 5%. Under movement, we grouped activities such as yoga, qi gong, various forms of dance, as well as pilgrimage walks and pram walks. Dance could involve both meditative circle dance, “sacred dances”, and freer forms of dance. Movement also accounted for approximately 5%. The discussion groups included different forms of Bible studies and conversations about Christian faith such as Alpha groups and Lectio Divina, and also groups focusing on personal development. These could include book clubs and self-help groups such as Life Steps, men’s and women’s groups, and stress management groups. The conversation groups made up about 8%. Table 1  The first coding shows the different kind of activities taking place outside of worship and concerts

Coded Activities

Number Percent

Music Leisure activities Meals Discussion groups Meditation Creative activities Movement Open house Culture Summary

545 289 113 105 71 66 63 31 10 1293

42% 22% 9% 8% 6% 5% 5% 2% 1% 100%

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

221

The activities centered around meals were advertised as soup lunches, café activities, afternoon tea, as well as specific activities aimed at families such as hamburger night and “Heaven and Pancake”. Social engagement activities centered around food were also noted in this coding such as Matkassen [The Food Bag] and Café Kryckan [The Crutch Café]. Meals made up about 9%. Several churches regularly held open houses with a focus on integration, social gatherings, and support activities. They organized daily activities, language cafes for migrants, meeting places for the socially vulnerable with a focus on conversation and support, as well as support for families with children. These could be advertised as Open door, Open house, or Open church square. This category accounted for 2% of all activities. Cultural activities included both cinema and film, as well as lectures, often with a Christian theme. Cultural activities accounted for 1% of all activities. The largest group of activities fell under the music category and included all the choirs found in the churches. Music activities made up almost half of all activities, 42%. Another large group of activities was coded as leisure activities, including all children’s and youth activities: baby groups, open preschool, infant massage, as well as homework help and after-school leisure activities. Leisure activities made up 22% of the activities in the material. The second coding focused on whether there was any connection to health and whether we could deduce whether there was any ritual framing. It was thus theoretically based and based on how the institution (congregation) presented the activity, not how individuals themselves experienced or interpreted it. This second coding helped us narrow down and capture what we want to investigate more closely in the research project, namely the new spiritual practices (see Table 2). The health-related aspects were often easy to identify, as both texts and images could signal health or ill-­ health. Keywords such as stress, relaxation, body and mind, and wellness were common in advertisements for the activities. However, it was not easy to determine which ritual framework the activities had. Instead, we had to ask what purpose and function the activities had. In other words, that a pilgrimage has a ritual setting is clearly indicated by the name, but what about a pram walk? To investigate possible ritual settings, we searched for indications on spatial aspects (that the activity took place in the church), liturgical elements (prayer, Bible reading, blessing), or other signals that indicated that the activity could be separated from everyday activities. If

222 

K. PLANK ET AL.

Table 2  Results from the second coding: remaining activities with a holistic character Coded Activity

Quantity Example of Activities

Meditation

71

Movement

62

Discussion groups

29

Creative activities Leisure activities Total sum:

19 6

Mindfulness; lunch meditation; retreat; Zen meditation; Christian Deep Meditation; Andas med Gud [Breath with God]; Lectio Divina; Vardagsfrid [Everyday peace]; Tillsammans i tystnad [Together in silence]; Angle meditation; Den åttafaldiga vägens meditation [The eightfold path of meditation]. Tikva; qi gong; pilgrim walks; circle dance; kundalini yoga; medical yoga; dance meditation; prayer walk; Soulful Saturday (groove); Hedvig dance; holy dans; Gå i frid [Walk in peace]. Livsstegen [Stages of life]; katekumenat, telling your life story-groups; Livets pärlor [Pearls of life]; existential conversations; spiritual guidence; Serenity prayer. Icon painting; bibliodrama; healing gardering; writing workshop. Silent women’s hour; baby massage.

187

the text did not mention that the pram walk included prayer or other ritual elements, we refrained from coding it as ritually framed, and our assessment was that it was not a spiritual practice that we wanted to investigate more closely through close study and observation. The health aspects were often emphasized, and that the practices can counteract stress and exhaustion. On the websites, yoga, qi gong, and various meditation practices were presented under headings such as wellness and health, peace and quiet, stillness, body and soul, spiritual deepening, and so on. Health-related activities could include activities that emphasized the use of the body (walks, gym, yoga, tikva, qi gong) and those that could be related to spiritual and mental health (self-help groups, the steps of life, catechumenate, life story group, bibliotherapy). After the second coding, a narrower selection was produced: activities such as open houses were sorted out, as well as most children’s and youth activities. Purely mealtime activities were also sorted out. We also decided not to include Bible study groups, courses in Christian faith and bereavement groups, as they are forms of traditional church activities that fall under the church’s theological function and lack a clear connection to body and health.

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

223

After the second coding, 187 activities remained that corresponded to our working definition4 of new spiritual practices in the church: practices that are holistic and intend to engage body, soul, and spirit. The resulting distribution differed to the first coding, with meditation and movement-­ based activities unequivocally accounting for the majority:

Conclusion There are noticeable boundaries and discernible influences, and possibly even limits, for what is included in the activities offered by the churches. We note, for example, the absence of practices that can be associated with Jewish, Muslim, Old Norse, or indigenous traditions. For example, we found no Sufi or Sami influences, even though such elements can be found in other new spiritual environments, nor did we find any obvious healing practices such as reiki. On the other hand, we identified practices and methods that can be associated with a wider Western cultural heritage— both younger and older—as well as body-mind methods that are often associated with an Eastern origin. Among the holistic practices, meditation classes seem to be the most common new spiritual practice offered by the parishes in the Church of Sweden. The only standardized or “branded” practice that is recurring is Christian Deep Meditation, which has existed since the 1970s, incorporating a Zen practice in a Christian setting. The results from our mapping show that there were many different meditation classes within the parishes. Our twenty-two observations of these activities also support the findings from the netnographic study. However, to constrain mediation to a unified category is not possible. The meditations could involve many different techniques: visualizations of a walk in the nature; mantra meditation using Christian short words like God or Amen; Angel meditation; silent meditation; Bible meditation; dance meditation; mindfulness; Maria meditation; Zen meditation; or as the example in the beginning of the chapter, meditation on impermanence and observing the mind. Our observations and interviews with leaders indicate that strict boundaries between concepts like Eastern or Western, Buddhist, Hindu, or Christian are difficult to uphold. Rather, it is more relevant to understand how these practices are used by individuals and how processes of legitimization might work. These questions are, however, too early for us to discuss since data collection is still ongoing in the research project at the time of writing.

224 

K. PLANK ET AL.

It is somewhat of a peculiarity that there seems to be a lack of standardized forms of meditation. Instead, we see a great diversity of meditation forms. The lack of standardized practices or Christian “branding” can also be observed with the other holistic practices. Internationally, also in other Scandinavian countries, a prefix is often placed before the word yoga in church contexts: “Christian yoga”, “church yoga”. This does not appear in our material. Instead, yoga is usually advertised based on the type of yoga offered, such as medical yoga or senior yoga. We ask ourselves if this means that there is no need to define yoga as a Christian practice? However, there is a standardized practice that appears to be specifically Swedish, namely tikva. The word tikva is Hebrew and means hope, and the practice consists of movements reminiscent of yoga and accompanied by biblical words. As far as we know, this practice is not found in other countries. The lack of standardized forms of meditation and other new spiritual practices indicates that the practices are linked to individual teachers, not to schools of practices. It is also possible that the lack of networks and organizations for leaders of new spirituals practices contributes to more individual interpretations and teachings gaining influence instead of standardized practices.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries The new spiritual practices have entered the other Scandinavian folk churches as well, but in somewhat different ways. Some of the practices, especially meditation and yoga, tend to generate controversies and critiques. We have found that representatives of the Church of Sweden can see yoga and meditation as forms of mission, paths that can bring people to an encounter with God. But there are also those who have reservations about all forms of spiritual exercises that can be seen as departures from the Lutheran doctrine of salvation “by grace alone”. A crucial question is what place spiritual training can have in the Lutheran tradition. In Denmark, there appears to have been more debate in Christian media about the practices, and the need for theological legitimation has been felt more strongly. When yoga is practiced, it is branded as “cross yoga” or “church yoga”, or it is offered within a liturgical setting. Especially in Denmark, there is a desire to pronounce the practices as Lutheran, thereby not only differentiating against Asian religious traditions but also against Catholicism, as in the case of pilgrim walks.5

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

225

Since the time of Prof. Johannes Aagaard at Aarhus University, there is a tradition in Denmark of dialogue with practitioners of “New Age” spiritualities, with Christian presence at health and spirituality fairs, aiming to attract people to the church. Such an open participation and invitation to dialogue is not found in the other countries. There are various organizations and networks for those who want to develop new spiritual practices in a church setting, networks we notice to a large degree are lacking in Sweden.6 Areopagos is an organization with roots in Norwegian missions to China in the nineteenth century, where the missionaries decided to enter into respectful conversation with Buddhists and Taoists rather than viewing them as objects for conversion. The organization now works in both Norway and Denmark with retreats, yoga, meditation, and other practices in a Christian setting.7 In Finland, the network is called “Hiljanen tilä”, meaning “Quiet Space”.8 The “Eastern practices” have not only entered new arenas in the Nordic countries, such as health care, gyms, and schools, they are also undergoing a “re-religious” adaptation in vernacular traditions within the larger Christian national churches. These reorientations and holistic practices might also invite practitioners that otherwise do not participate in church services, thus also indicating that Davies idea of “vicarious religion” needs to be questioned or qualified. When researching how “Eastern practices” reaches new arenas, it is, as Ammerman duly has noted, important to consider the complexity of religious life and how social institutions color practices. Not only need the practices themselves be observed and analyzed but also how they are used by the individuals coming to the practice, as well as the leaders and their interpretations, the ritual settings, the institutions, and external networks in which individuals may be part.

Notes 1. The research project examines which everyday spiritual practices people practice within the framework of the Church of Sweden, how they are perceived by the practitioners and how they are negotiated and legitimized in Lutheran theology. The three-year project is linked to Karlstad University, and is run with funds from the Riksbankens Jubileumsfond (RJ P20-0606). The research project has undergone ethics review (EPM 2021-05807-01). The project is led by Katarina Plank. The netnographic survey, as well as interviews and observations, were carried out by Linnea Lundgren. Katarina Plank and Helene Egnell are researchers in the project, where Plank was responsible for research design, contemporary data collection and theory

226 

K. PLANK ET AL.

within religious studies, and Egnell was responsible for historical data collection and theological theory. 2. This chapter is based on Lundgren, Plank and Egnell “Nya andliga praktiker i Svenska kyrkan” that will be published in Svensk teologisk kvartalskrift. 3. The summary builds on archive and literature studies of the following sources: Carl-Erik Brattemo, Göte Bergsten 1896–1954 (1996); Ninna Edgardh Beckman, Folkkyrka – i solidaritet med kvinnor? (1998); Hans Hof, Var finns Gud Tankar om andlighetens villkor idag (1983); Maria Rönn (1997); and news articles from the years 1970–2000 from the media archive at the Sigtuna Foundation. 4. In Lundgren, Plank and Egnell (2023) we explain how we operationalised the concept “new spiritual practices”. Since the research project aims at investigating “spiritual practices”, we needed to find, at an analytical level, a working definition that is anchored in our data and at the same time broad enough to capture variations at an emic level that includes both institutional and individual understandings. Our working definition of new spiritual practices has been “practices that are holistic: they aim to engage body, soul, and spirit”. This gives us a working definition that is broad enough that it can include many different emic interpretations and understandings of the practices, that is, what they “do” and what significance they have for the individual. The working definition also links together our theoretical angle (etic approach), where physical and spiritual health and institutional anchoring are important areas to investigate. The working definition also enables our theoretical coding of the data, where in step two we examined links to health and ritual framing. 5. Kristeligt Dagblad, 5 Nov 2019 https://www.kristeligt-­dagblad.dk/kirke-­ tro/pilgrimspraester-­har-­givet-­folkekirken-­krop 6. However, two exceptions are noted: various pilgrimage centers that have been established in several places in Sweden, as well as the association Kompass for those who practice Ignatian guidance. The circle dance network exists, with no formal ties to the Church of Sweden. 7. https://areopagos.no/ Accessed 12 April 2023. 8. http://www.hiljainentila.fi/ Accessed 12 April 2023.

References Ahlstrand, Kajsa, and Göran Gunner. 2008. Guds närmaste stad: en studie om religionernas betydelse i ett svenskt samhälle i början av 2000-talet. Stockholm: Verbum. Ammerman, Nancy Tatom. 2014. Sacred Stories, Spiritual Tribes: Finding Religion in Everyday Life. New York: Oxford University Press. ———. 2021. Studying Lived Religion: Contexts and Practices. New  York: New York University Press.

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

227

Bäckström, Anders. 2017. Folkkyrkan-sedd men osedd. Svensk kyrkotidning 4: 102–104. Bäckström, Anders, Ninna Edgardh Beckman, and Per Pettersson. 2004. Religiös förändring i norra Europa: från statskyrka till fri folkkyrka. Uppsala: Diakonivetenskapliga institutet. Beyer, Peter. 1994. Religion and Globalization. London: Sage. Brattemo, Carl-Erik. 1996. Göte Bergsten 1896–1954: kyrkoman, själavårdare och mystiker. Skellefteå: Artos. Davie, Grace. 2007. Vicarious religion: A methodological challenge. In Everyday Religion: Observing Modern Religious Lives, ed. Nancy Tatom Ammerman, 21–36. New York: Oxford University Press. Edgardh Beckman, Ninna. 1998. Folkkyrka – i solidaritet med kvinnor? Det ekumeniska årtiondet. Uppsala: Svenska kyrkans forskningsråd. Frisk, Liselotte. 1998. Nyreligiositet i Sverige ett religionsvetenskapligt perspektiv. Nora: Nya Doxa. Frisk, Liselotte, and Peter Åkerbäck. 2013. Den mediterande Dalahästen: religion på nya arenor i samtidens Sverige. Stockholm: Dialogos. Furseth, Inger. 2018. Introduction. In Religious Complexity in the Public Sphere: Comparing Nordic Countries, ed. Inger Furseth, 1–29. New  York: Palgrave Macmillan. Furseth, Inger, et al. 2017. Changing Religious Landscape in the Nordic Countries. In Religious Complexity in the Public Sphere: Comparing Nordic Countries, ed. Inger Furseth, 31–80. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Hammer, Olav. 1997. På spaning efter helheten: New Age – en ny folktro. Stockholm: Wahlström. ———. 2013. Religion och andlighet i det moderna väst. In Mystik och andlighet. Kritiska perspektiv, ed. Simon Sorgenfrei, 103–121. Stockholm: Dialogos. Heelas, Paul. 1996. The New Age Movement: The Celebration of the Self and the Sacralization of Modernity. Oxford: Bladwell. Heelas, Paul, and Linda Woodhead. 2005. The Spiritual Revolution: Why Religion Is Giving Way to Spirituality. Malden: Blackwell. Helboe Johansen, Marie, and Kristine Vejrup Nielsen. 2019. Transforming Churches: The Lived Religion of Religious Organizations in a Contemporary Context. Journal of Contemporary Religion 3: 509–527. Hof, Hans. 1983. Var finns Gud: tankar om andlighetens villkor i dag. Hudiksvall: Åsak. Jespers, Frans. 2014. From New Age to New Spiritualities: Secual Sacralizations on the Borders of Religion. In New Age Spirituality, ed. Steven Sutcliffe and Ingvild Sælid Gilhus, 197–211. London: Routledge. Jorgensen, Danny L. 1982. The Esoteric Community. Urban Life 4: 383–407. Kemp, Daren. 2003. The Chistaquarians? A Sociology of Christians in the New Age. Studies in World Christianity 1: 95–110.

228 

K. PLANK ET AL.

Krook, Caroline. 2020. Från stor stad till storstad. Stockholms stift igår och idag. Stockholm: Verbum. Luhmann, Niklas. 1977. Funktion der Religion. Framkfurt am Main: Suhrkamp. ———. 1982. The Differentiation of Society. New York: Colombia University Press. Lundgren, Linnea, Katarina Plank, and Helene Egnell. 2023. Nya andliga praktiker i Svenska kyrkan. Svensk teologisk kvartalskrift, 3. Mikaelsson, Lisbeth. 2017. Church Religion and New Age: An Encounter Between Rivals? In New Age in Norway, ed. Ingvild Sælid Gilhus, Siw Ellen Kraft, and James Lewis, 19–43. Equinox eBooks Publishing. Nynäs, Peter, Ruth Illman, and Tuomas Martikainen. 2015. On the Outskirts of “the Church”. Diversities, Fluidities and New Spaces of Religion in Finland. Zürich: Lit Verlag. Pettersson, Per. 2017. State and Religion in Sweden: Ambiguity Between Disestablishment and Religious Control. Nordic Journal of Religion and Society 2: 119–135. Rönn, Maria. 1997. Heliga danser: dans som rit och bön. Stockholm: Verbum. Saliba, John. 1999. Christian Responses to the New Age Movement: A Critical Assessment. London: Geoffrey Chapman. SOU. 1963/39. Kyrkor och samfund i Sverige: omfattning och verksamhet. Stockholm: Idun/Esselte. Stinnisen, Wilfrid. 1978. En bok om kristen djupmeditation. Stockholm: Verbum. Sutcliffe, Steven. 2003. Children of New Age: A History of Spiritual Practices. London: Routledge. Sutcliffe, Steven, and Ingvild Sælid Gilhus. 2013. New Age Spirituality: Rethinking Religion. Durham: Acumen. Suthcliffe, Steven, and Marion Bowman. 2000. Beyond New Age: Exploring Alternative Spirituality. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Svanberg, Ingvar, and David Westerlund. 2008. Religion i Sverige. Stockholm: Dialogos. Willander, Erika. 2019. The Religious Landscape of Sweden: Affinity, Affiliation and Diversity in the 21st Century. SST:s skriftserie nr 8. Myndigheten för stöd till trossamfund. Stockholm. ———. 2022. Religiositet och sekularisering. In Sociologiska perspektiv på religion i Sverige, ed. Mia Lövheim and Magdalena Nordin, 57–76. Malmö: Gleerups Utbildning AB.

  MEDITATION AND OTHER NEW SPIRITUAL PRACTICES IN THE CHURCH… 

229

Open Access  This chapter is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/ by/4.0/), which permits use, sharing, adaptation, distribution and reproduction in any medium or format, as long as you give appropriate credit to the original author(s) and the source, provide a link to the Creative Commons licence and indicate if changes were made. The images or other third party material in this chapter are included in the chapter’s Creative Commons licence, unless indicated otherwise in a credit line to the material. If material is not included in the chapter’s Creative Commons licence and your intended use is not permitted by statutory regulation or exceeds the permitted use, you will need to obtain permission directly from the copyright holder.

Acem and the Psychology of Meditation: The Inner History of a Living Practice Halvor Eifring

Introduction During an international conference in Norway in 2010 on the cultural histories of meditation, many scholars expressed curiosity about the organisation Acem (pronounced ah-kem), which runs the retreat centre where the conference was held. Acem, they were told, was established in Norway in 1966 by Are Holen, who was present at the conference and who was still head of the international organisation at the time.1 Acem bases its teachings on modern psychology and neuroscience, and it is probably Scandinavia’s largest school of meditation, with courses in several countries in Europe, Asia, and America. But where did it come from? How did an international organisation with its own approach to meditation emerge in a small and for most of the scholars far-away country like Norway?

H. Eifring (*) Department of Culture Studies and Oriental Languages, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_11

231

232 

H. EIFRING

In most cases, their initial curiosity was soon eliminated. The piece of information that seemed to solve the conundrum was the fact that during Acem’s first six years of existence, until 1972, it collaborated with the Indian guru Mahesh Yogi’s TM (Transcendental Meditation) movement2: “Aha! Another TM offshoot!” It was as if this explained everything about the organisation. Case closed! This chapter will argue that Acem’s approach differs from both the TM movement and most so-called TM offshoots in at least three important respects: its psychological framework, its meditation guidance, and its practice of long meditations. Through semi-structured interviews with ten informants, the chapter aims to explore the inner history of the organisation and the development of its features. The focus will be on the 1960s and 1970s, though later developments are also important, especially regarding long meditations and psychological and neuroscientific theory.

Psychology, Guidance, and Long Meditations At the outset, three important ways in which Acem differs from the TM movement and other TM offshoots will be discussed: First, Acem developed an experience-based psychological framework intended to guide the practice and explain the technique’s working mechanisms. This framework emphasises what it calls the actualisation of deeper psychological issues, sometimes leading to passing phases of resistance and so-called paradoxical effects, including restlessness, nervousness, bodily tension, and negative moods. Such effects have been observed both in the TM movement itself (Rosenthal 2011) and by TM offshoots (e.g. Carrington 2012), but usually they have been seen as unwanted deviations, or they have been overshadowed by the emphasis on “bliss” in the TM discourse. Instead, Acem sees such phases as integral parts of the meditation process and essential requirements for long-term personality development (Holen 2016). While it is possible to see Acem’s psychological orientation in light of twentieth-century “therapy culture” (Füredi 2004) and “culture of self-help” (Illouz 2008), the organisation insists that meditation is not therapy. Its periodical Dyade has often criticised the feel-good narcissism, exaggerated victimhood, utopianism, and tyranny of intimacy often inherent in the emotionalism of popular culture. Second, Acem developed dynamic and flexible procedures for meditation guidance, seeing actualisations in meditation as reflecting deeper, unresolved psychological life issues. The guidance is not only about

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

233

improving the meditation technique but also explores and processes the emerging psychological issues and formative experiences from past and present. This contrasts with the meditation guidance found in TM and other groups, which tends to be less exploratory, often restricted to standard answers to common questions about the practice (Holen and Eifring 2013). Third, Acem developed a systematic practice of long meditations. While other groups tend to warn against long meditations, Acem sees them as tools for stimulating fundamental psychological processes. In Acem, meditations of more than one hour are followed by qualified guidance. A stepwise progression is made, for example, participation in deepening retreats with up to six-hour meditations requires previous experience from regular retreats with up to three-hour meditations. In the very beginning, the TM movement also practised long meditations but abandoned them after many got into mental problems. Qualified guidance, a down-to-earth approach to meditation, and the stricter requirements for admittance to deepening retreats are quoted as major reasons why the practice of long meditations does not lead to but rather resolves psychological problems (Holen and Hobbel 2010). Acem shares with TM and other so-called TM offshoots a nondirective approach to meditation (Eifring 2019). The coming and going of spontaneous thoughts is not looked upon as a hindrance but as an integral part of the meditation technique. Also, these approaches build on the effortless repetition of a mantra or a meditation sound.3 In addition to its teachings, Acem differs from the other nondirective approaches in several ways: It is more thoroughly internationalised than most of them, has a larger number of qualified instructors, has published more books and articles in different languages, and organises more courses, retreats, and other activities. These activities build on unpaid volunteer work by engaged persons who earn their living from other jobs; many of them have leading academic or other positions. In the following, however, we shall be less concerned with such external facts than with the inner history of Acem.

Inner History To explore the emergence of Acem’s psychology of meditation from the inside, this chapter builds on ten semi-structured interviews. All informants learned meditation either in Acem or in the TM movement in the

234 

H. EIFRING

1960s, and they were extensively involved in Acem activities as volunteers from early on. They were also selected because they represent different positions both in terms of gender and degree of “insiderness”. They include:4 1. the founder of Acem, who is still active as chief lecturer and training supervisor in Acem International: Are Holen (AH; b. 1945; TM 1963) 2. three other initiators who are still central in the organisation: Ole Gjems-Onstad (OGO; b. 1950; AM 1969; head of Acem International), Tor Hersoug (TH; b. 1946; AM 1968; deputy head of Acem International), and Carl Henrik Grøndahl (CHG; b. 1945; AM 1968). 3. two instructors who still have prominent roles in local Acem communities: Ruth Fagerhaug in Trondheim, Norway (RF; b. 1943; TM 1965) and Kirsten Hasselknippe in Stavanger, Norway (KH; b. 1945; AM 1969) 4. four other participants who no longer are part of Acem, though one of them still practises Acem Meditation: Rune Aaslid (RAa; b. 1943; AM 1966), Ina Andresen (IA; b. 1947; AM 1968), Bjørn Angelsen (BA; b. 1946; AM late 1960s), and Herdis Bauer (HB; b. 1948; AM 1968)5 While prior publications on Acem, especially Hersoug (2021), have provided much information about the external events that shaped the organisation, these interviews provided unique access to central aspects of its inner history. In the academic literature, the term “inner history” has been used in different meanings (see Turkle 2008; Stokland 1969; Packer 2013; Kenneally 1929). Usually, the term emphasises the subjective aspects of history, and it attempts to capture the motivations behind the external facts and developments, as well as the personal responses that follow. Thus, in this chapter, the term “inner history” encapsulates three different meanings: 1. Inner experiences linked to external facts. In the interviews, the focus lies on the informants’ individual and personal experiences of the developments rather than the facts alone, though in constant dialogue with the external events. 2. The inside rather than the outside perspective.

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

235

In different ways, all ten informants either are or have been on the inside of the developments described. Even the author is not just an observer but learned to meditate in Acem in 1976 and still practises the technique daily. Rather than being a liability, this inside perspective is seen as providing propitious access to some of the ideas and driving forces of the organisation. 3. Narratives from people who are or have been near the inner core of developments. Nine out of ten informants either are or once were meditation instructors or initiators; they have worked for the organisation on an unpaid basis. The role of the informants and that of the author touch on the insider-­ outsider issue in religious and cultural studies (McCutcheon 1999; Chryssides and Gregg 2019). While the insider author’s loyalty towards the organisation may colour his perspective, the idea that outsiders are “objective” has been shown to be problematic. For many of the informants, the author’s strong commitment to Acem’s activities contributed to a sense of trust that made it easier for them to respond openly to questions. The term “living practice” is often used to describe individualised spirituality in contrast to the dogma of traditional religion (Frankenberg 2004). Being a study of the inner history of a living practice, this chapter employs what Turkle (2008) calls a methodology of “intimate ethnography”, largely based on interviews and fieldwork. While written sources are also important, their value is limited. Textual evidence is often fragmentary, since at any given point of time, only a minor part of the lived experience and practice is committed to writing. Textual evidence may also be deceptive, since it tends to be interpreted (or misinterpreted) with limited regard for the inner, social, and intellectual context. When the textual emphasis of traditional historical studies is carried over to the study of modern or contemporary society, these limitations may become more obvious, as when Løøv interprets a few lines of printed text from 1966 as proof that Acem “was a religious organisation during its first years”, before citing more recent texts to indicate that Acem currently “sees modern science as the sole source of reliable knowledge” (Løøv 2019, 35). Both conclusions are equally problematic and partly erroneous.

236 

H. EIFRING

Four Years of Change When the author of this chapter learned to meditate in 1976, only four years had passed since Acem’s break away from the TM movement. Yet in these four years, the teaching of meditation in the organisation had undergone major changes: 1. The target group of the organisation had changed from students to society at large, reflected in the change of name from Academic Meditation Society (AMS) to the non-semantic fantasy name Acem. 2. The teachings of the organisation had changed from India-inspired perspectives and spirituality, including the standard TM initiation ritual, to a modern, secular, and psychological approach to meditation. 3. The TM movement’s guidance, in which questions were met with pre-­programmed answers, had been replaced by an interactive guidance that intends to stimulate the meditator to explore his or her meditation practice and formative experiences of the present and past. At this point, only a few remnants of TM terms remained. The name of the technique changed from “Transcendental Meditation” to “Acem Meditation” in 1980. The term “mantra” was replaced with “meditation sound” (“metodelyd” in Norwegian) at about the same time.

The First Communication Group All informants agree that the psychological understanding of the meditation processes started well before the split with the TM movement. The single event that most often was cited as the jump-start of this transformation was the first communication group, a group process aiming to explore psychological issues emerging in meditation and their related personality patterns as well as typical ways of interacting with others. One informant states that “Acem’s way of teaching meditation today is unthinkable without the communication groups” (CHG), and he called the first communication group a “revolution”. Are Holen was a student of psychology at the University of Oslo, and according to his own account, he was influenced by the emerging group orientation in psychology:

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

237

People were coming to the psychology department from the United States to lead sensitivity groups and other groups aimed at partly helping, partly confronting people with maladaptive aspects of behaviour. I didn’t take part in these activities. Even so, they inspired a reorientation towards the use of groups and group dynamics in Acem, including the communication groups, the guidance groups, and also the general teaching of meditation. (AH)

The communication groups aimed to process further those psychological issues that emerged in the meditation. They also sought to create an attitude to meditation and life that differed from what was prevalent in the TM movement, as described by “a not unknown psychologist” (Are Holen) in a jocular piece about the “increasing incidence of a mild mental illness called the meditation neurosis”: Due to the patient’s euphoria and excessive optimism, he develops an exaggerated, glorified, and pompous self-image. His ability to constructive self-­ criticism is limited, while his egocentrism is apparent. In illusory ways, the patient is virtually seduced by his own inflated self-image: because he meditates, everything is by necessity just fine, he thinks. (Holen 1970; my translation)

The communication groups combined interactive feedback and self-­ reflection to stimulate “constructive self-criticism” and social skills. Are Holen was well-versed in psychological theory and practice. Even so, the psychological reorientation did not come easy. The participants were unprepared for the degree of psychological incisiveness practised in the group. At the same time, the communication group was felt to be important. It changed the way the participants looked upon themselves, others, and meditation: After this, we could be more honest with each other. To see each other this way also meant that we could collaborate more constructively in the time that followed. (TH)

The communication group also changed the way the participants looked upon meditation and its related processes. Several participants emphasised that comments that at first seemed incomprehensible proved later to have a long-term positive influence on their self-understanding:

238 

H. EIFRING

In the beginning, it [the communication group] was not a positive experience, but it made me understand something important, and in retrospect I am very grateful. (RF)

Mahesh Yogi was opposed to Western psychology and claimed that it only scrapes the surface of the human mind and represents a regression towards more primitive aspects of consciousness (lecture in Stuttgart, Germany, on 10 October 1963; cf. Olson and Olson 2001). Before the final split with the TM movement, therefore, Acem’s communication groups were held in secret. After the break with the TM movement, there was no longer any need for secrecy. In the first years, the groups were mostly reserved for instructors, but after 1982, open weeklong communication training courses have been arranged annually, except in the first covid year 2020. Nowadays, however, the style rests less on confrontation, but more on exploration. One informant, who in the early 1970s left Acem to become a Catholic contemplative nun, can illustrate the development: I had taken part in one communication group before I entered the monastery. My reaction was negative. I said things to people that I have regretted ever since. But from around 2007 I came back and took part in three or four of the annual communication training groups. That was very good and helped me a lot. I have been able to grasp things about myself that I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to, and it was also important to be able to recognise parts of myself in other participants. ... I have also recommended the course to other nuns, and at least three of them have participated. (IA)

The first training of new communication group leaders started in 1973, based on complete written transcripts of recordings of entire group sessions, which were then discussed sentence by sentence. To some extent, psychological classics such as Rogers (1965) and Beier (1966) were also used in the training. In the 1970s and 1980s, other forms of group psychological processes were also tried out in Acem, including gestalt groups, a fantasy group, a body group, and dreamwork. The aim was to search for activities that could help further the mental and bodily processing of issues actualised in meditation. A very different activity was the development within Acem of the dance form called Dreiva from 1976 onwards—an intense experience that combined bodily movement to rhythm and music with a sense of

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

239

contact and non-verbal communication and interaction with the dance partners. Dreiva was giving expression to spontaneous intense impulses; they were brought closer to the surface by meditation.

The Split The first communication group was a major turning point, while the split with the TM movement was a long process. The founding of Acem in 1966 was in itself built on a sense of difference from the mainstream TM movement. The position taken at the time, though, was to collaborate inside the larger movement. Gradually, this changed. In 1967, Are Holen spent three months at a training course for TM initiators in Mahesh Yogi’s ashram in Rishikesh in India and subsequently three more months travelling with him in India. This changed his views on Mahesh Yogi: The first time I cooked for Mahesh Yogi was in Carmarthen in Wales in 1965. He seemed to be a nice person. Then I travelled to India in 1967, got closer to him, and I saw how he mishandled many situations. (AH)

Other Acem meditators went through a similar process of disenchantment: When I met Mahesh Yogi at my first retreat, I had a good impression of him. Then, after the Beatles and all that, there seemed to be more of a personality cult, and I didn’t like that. (RAa)

At this point, there was still no open confrontation. Apart from confiding his reflections to a small group of Acem instructors, Are Holen stayed loyal to Mahesh Yogi. But my scepticism increased. Much of what he taught stimulated weird ideas in some people. I saw how irresponsible he was with money and in his treatment of many people around him. No longer I believed in his spiritual powers or insights. The meditation technique was good but not the man, and the technique wasn’t his property. He still demanded to be the centre of everything. When he understood that my loyalty had limits, he wanted to punish me, and I withdrew. (AH)

While Are Holen himself had leading roles both in Acem and the international TM movement, other Acem instructors and meditators had little

240 

H. EIFRING

to do with the TM movement. The two organisations arranged a few retreats in collaboration. Beyond this, there was limited contact. There was also a growing sense that the TM movement’s ideas surrounding meditation were different from Acem’s: The TM movement presented meditation as the solution to all problems, and the changes were to come automatically; there would be more and more bliss, and after only a few years, cosmic consciousness and god consciousness would be realised by the meditator. This was not in accordance with my experience. I liked the realistic ways we talked about meditation in more down-to-earth terms in Acem. (TH)

Another objection to the TM approach was its rigidity: The TM movement’s way of teaching meditation was alienating and mechanistic. To a large extent, the instructions prescribed the same responses without regard to people’s actual experiences. Our approach aimed to be more practical, individualised, and empathic. (OGO)

A break was imminent. The beginning was a dramatic, not to say melodramatic, episode at Acem’s summer retreat in July 1971: … nine uninvited SRM [TM movement] initiators abruptly marched on stage and interrupted the evening lecture. They informed the audience that they were acting on direct telephone orders from Mahesh Yogi and declared on his behalf that Are Holen was no longer to be the head of the student organization in Norway. ... Several letters of protest were signed by nearly all participants and sent to Mahesh Yogi. (Hersoug 2021, 40)

Are Holen withdrew from all his positions both in Acem and the TM movement, for the moment enabling Acem to continue to collaborate with the TM movement. Rune Aaslid took over as head of Acem. In 1972, Mahesh Yogi had planned to visit a retreat arranged by the TM movement in Trondheim, Norway, and many Acem members were present to discuss organisational matters face to face with him. Probably, Mahesh Yogi knew a confrontation was imminent and decided to avoid that. In spite of his original travel plans, he never turned up in Norway. Instead, he ordered in a phone message that Acem be dissolved. Four days later, Acem called a meeting of its representatives, which unanimously decided to continue Acem’s activities independently of the TM

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

241

movement. The collaboration was over. To most of my informants, this came as a relief, as “the break allowed Acem to develop in its own ways” (KH), and “it had become obvious that the AMS [Acem] and the SRM [TM movement] were two very different organisations, and … now we could freely distance ourselves from the far-fetched ideas and theories of the TM movement” (BA). In the coming years, the conflict with the TM movement continued both in court and outside, but by now this had little influence on Acem’s ways of teaching meditation. A new framework, largely based on a psychological understanding of meditation, was developing.

Psychology of Meditation Psychology had been one of Are Holen’s main interests since his early teens. When he came across Freud’s introductory lectures on psychoanalysis, he devoured them with great passion. Also, he read books by Norway’s first professor of psychology, Harald Schjelderup, and he discussed his interests with a female cousin who had studied psychology. He even taught himself hypnosis and hypnotised some of his classmates in high school. Since secondary school, he had been determined to become a psychotherapist, or maybe a medical doctor. He ended up doing both, studying psychology at the University of Oslo from 1965 and, with some overlap, Sanskrit and then medicine at the same university until 1978. This was followed by a PhD in 1990 on post-traumatic stress in survivors from an oil rig disaster and specialisation in psychiatry. He spent two years as a research scientist at the University of California, San Francisco, and one year as a visiting professor at Stanford University in 1999–2000. From 1993, he worked as an associate professor and, later, full professor at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology until he retired in 2015. The understanding that meditation involved processing of issues from both the past and the present started in Are Holen already during the long meditations at Mahesh Yogi’s ashram in Rishikesh in 1967. Many participants there became depressed. I realised that unresolved issues in their lives somehow came back to them in the long meditations. But they didn’t get the help they needed to process what emerged. I didn’t understand all of this at the time, but I saw that they had things they needed to work through. (AH)

242 

H. EIFRING

After the break, many ideas that loosely had been talked about before were gradually integrated into a systematic and secular approach to the psychology of meditation. New concepts developed. In 1973, Acem’s periodical Dyade published a special edition on meditation, of which 15,000 copies were sold. After Christmas 1973, Acem initiators and instructors gathered on Gran Canaria for a week of discussions, communication groups, training in group dynamics, and so on. In 1974, the outlines of how to teach meditation were presented in a new manual for Acem instructors. In 1975, the first training seminar in meditation guidance was held. Like the training of communication group leaders, the guidance training was based on detailed sentence-by-sentence discussions of complete transcripts of guidance sessions. The way the meditation sound was handled in relation to the upcoming spontaneous manifestations was seen as reflecting basic response patterns of the meditator’s personality and thus a key to resolving issues that hitherto had been limiting the person’s psychological freedom and access to inner resources. In the same year, the post-Christmas gathering was held on Lanzarote, and once again the word “revolution” is used by one of the informants: All this culminated in a major revolution. In a hired schoolroom on Lanzarote, with local guards outside in Franco-style Spain, are presented a comprehensive psychology of meditation. (CHG)

The difference from the TM movement lay in the focus on the meditative action rather than on the experienced mental states and in the systematicity of the conceptual universe surrounding the psychology of meditation. The emphasis was on attention, on maintaining a free mental attitude in relation to the spontaneous manifestations of thoughts, sensations, and so on. The understanding that concentration of the attention was not a way forward in this meditation had also been part of Mahesh Yogi’s teachings since the late 1950s, but usually formulated in general encouraging terms: “Take it easy and enjoy”—often with a focus on the accompanying states of joy and bliss that were supposed to go hand in hand with meditation. In the TM movement, there was no clear emphasis on what to do with the mode of attention. The new approach to meditation was received with enthusiasm among Acem initiators and instructors:

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

243

The psychology of meditation … provided more subtlety to my understanding of the meditation technique. (RF)

The focus on inner action was also expressed as a process orientation rather than a state orientation. At an intuitive level, this realisation had been part of Acem’s thinking since the late 1960s, in opposition not only to Mahesh Yogi’s focus on bliss but also to the state orientation that characterised so many groups teaching meditation. As seen by Acem, meditation brings forward psychological issues and response patterns by actualisation, usually in ways that are poorly understood by the meditator. One example of how such actualisations may manifest is in the impact of so-called metathoughts, that is, judgemental thoughts about one’s meditation: “There are too many thoughts!” “My meditation sound is not clear enough!” Often, such thoughts prompt the meditator to use force in order to meditate “properly”. Many schools of meditation see thoughts, particularly judgemental thoughts, as unwanted disturbances. Acem, however, sees them mainly as manifestations of personality issues in need of further processing—in meditation as well as in life. In 1976, the year the author learned to meditate, Acem’s first book, The Psychology of Silence (Stillhetens psykologi; Holen 1976) was published and soon became the most widely read book about meditation in Norway. Like many other early texts in Acem, it was written by a group of initiators and instructors and edited by Are Holen.

Psychology and Beyond In the following years, there were several new developments within the basic framework. Many instructors and initiators were trained not only in the psychology of meditation but also in general psychological theory. The most ambitious of these training programmes was the “Fenichel seminar” in 1977–78, a full year of weekly study meetings based on Otto Fenichel’s book The Psychoanalytic Theory of Neurosis (Fenichel 1945). Later, other psychological theories were also discussed, including object relations theory (Igra 1983), self-psychology (Kohut 1990; Masterson 1990; Gruen 1988), and the theory of personality disorders (Yudofsky 2005). To some extent, aspects of these theories were integrated into Acem’s understanding and psychology of meditation. For instance, the concept of metathoughts was linked to self-psychological ideas about how high and

244 

H. EIFRING

low self-images keep a person away from a more adaptable self. The challenges posed by narcissism and limitations in the ability to process issues in some people with personality disorders and psychotic disorders were also highlighted. However, these theories did not contribute to the same extent as the practical experiences derived from the communication groups and the related development of meditation guidance. One of the most recent theoretical topics that have been broadly discussed among Acem instructors is the psychological and neuroscientific understanding of mind wandering and the brain’s default mode network (cf. Eifring 2019). The concept of nondirective meditation is a product of these discussions and of the emerging scientific discourse on Acem meditation (Solberg 2004; Lagopoulos et  al. 2009; Davanger et  al. 2010; Nesvold et al. 2012; Xu et al. 2014; Solli 2016; Eifring 2016; Hersoug et al. 2018; Eifring 2019; Hersoug et al. 2021; Eifring 2022). Meditation clearly has some therapeutic effects. Even so, in contrast both to the TM movement and the more recent mindfulness movement (cf. West 2016), Acem insists that meditation is not primarily psychotherapy: People who have psychological or psychiatric problems should not use meditation as a replacement for professional therapy; that can be running away from a true understanding of their problems. ... As a professional, I can’t recommend meditation as psychotherapy for those with psychiatric problems. (AH)

The insistence that meditation is not psychotherapy is also related to an existential or philosophical orientation: Seeing meditation as psychotherapy undermines its deeper philosophical value. Meditation is a spiritual or existential exercise rather than a therapeutic one. It’s not only for people with problems. (AH)

Acem’s form of meditation guidance has partly been inspired by psychotherapeutic practice. However, in contrast to the “talking cure” of psychotherapy, the guidance sessions are secondary to the emerging issues from the meditation. Meditation is thoroughly relaxing, and it is not limited by words, emotions, and concepts. Acem’s approach also contrasts with many schools of meditation that advise against talking during meditation retreats. In Acem, the processing

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

245

of long meditations is typically combined with the verbal processing of meditation guidance (cf. Holen 2016, 83, 141).

Existential Process The move in Acem towards a psychological perspective may also be seen as an attempt to approach an existential or spiritual orientation in a way that differs from the magico-mythological approach prevalent in the TM movement: A psychological understanding does not in itself provide a key to a contemplative experience but may be an important factor in opening the mind or blocking it. Hence, psychological processing can stimulate genuine meditative growth and development. (AH)

Long before he founded Acem, and even before he learned to meditate, though after he had taught himself yoga based on Yesudian and Haich (1953), Are Holen had experiences that can be characterised as meditative (cf. Hobbel 2018): It was a late night in May [1962]. I was sixteen years old and was walking home alone from a party with my classmates. Suddenly the fragrance of the blooming lilacs made the world expand. That fragrance became a gateway to something larger. I didn’t hear or see anything different, but I sensed a depth in existence and a clarity that told me that there was more to being than I had imagined. (AH)

This was followed by several similar experiences. After learning TM (then called Deep Meditation) less than a year later, these experiences changed in nature. They were no longer primarily stimulated by aesthetic encounters in the external world but rather by an inner awareness that occasionally was part of the meditative practice: After I had finished high school, I went to a retreat with long meditations. An inner realisation there made it clear to me that this was what my life was going to be about. The depth and silent intensity of the “vision” made it impossible to ignore. It was unrelated to TM or to Mahesh Yogi. (AH)

One year later, on 27 January 1966, he founded Acem, at the time a student organisation. After yet another year, in 1967, he became a TM

246 

H. EIFRING

initiator during a half-year stay in India. Indian philosophy and metaphysics had helped him make sense of his early meditative experiences. While his stay in India reduced his admiration for Mahesh Yogi, it maintained his fascination and sympathy with Indian philosophy and meditative traditions. He studied Sanskrit for four years at the University of Oslo, during which time he covered a good part of the classical Indian philosophical texts. A spiritual orientation was also important to many other Acem volunteers: When I learned to meditate, it was because it sounded like a method that could stimulate deeper spiritual growth. On my first retreat, I think it was in 1967, we had long meditations, which I liked a lot. They gave deep relaxation, which was a good antidote to all the stress in my studies, but they also gave me a brighter outlook on life and a feeling that there is a spiritual dimension at work. When I went to California the year after to become an initiator [in the TM movement], this dimension was still important to me, but all the esoteric talk was something I kept my distance from. (RAa)

For one informant, meditation stimulated a religious orientation: During my meditation, I once had a strong experience, I was suddenly filled with a love so strong that I thought, “This must be God!” So I knelt down and said, “I give you my life.” At the time, I had no sense of which religion I was seeking, and since I’d been interested in India, I started wondering if I would end up as a Hindu. (IA)

She did not end up as a Hindu but as a Catholic contemplative nun in the Cistercian order. However, there were also Acem volunteers who were less oriented towards the spiritual aspect of meditation: To me, it wasn’t so much a spiritual thing. ... I wasn’t interested in the Dalai Lama, and not in India. (HB)

The challenge was to develop an existential orientation without all the magico-mythological jargon that was so prevalent in the new-age spirituality from the 1960s:

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

247

Soberness and the down-to-earth attitude must be part of the package. The parallels between certain spiritual ideas and schizophrenic notions and magico-mythological ideas about spirituality can be really destructive for some people. (AH)

For some years, the interest in existential or contemplative practices went hand in hand with the development of a psychology of meditation. In 1970, the year of the first communication group, Are Holen visited several Catholic monasteries in Liechtenstein, Belgium, and France, and he was soon followed by other Acem instructors. In 1973, Acem co-­ arranged a lecture with the Fourteenth Dalai Lama at the University of Oslo during his first trip outside India. In the following years, there were also talks by the Catholic Bishop in Oslo, John Willem Gran, who had spent years of his life as a Cistercian monk in Wales, and the Swedish priest and professor in the philosophy of religion Hans Hof, who was among those who brought Zen meditation to Sweden. There was also contact with some Indian teachers. We were curious about other contemplative traditions. We had some contact with Indian gurus but thought they were superficial and only in it for the money. We once thought of inviting Krishnamurti to Norway, but he was old and had stopped this form of travelling. In the spring of 1971, Ole [Gjems-Onstad] and I visited a Catholic monastery in Scotland. The Protestant Church of Norway had nothing to offer in terms of meditation, but the Catholic monasteries took meditation and spiritual development seriously. The Dalai Lama’s visit acquainted us with yet another tradition. (TH)

Some informants delved into Catholicism without taking the final step, but as already mentioned, one of them converted and has spent her entire adult life as a Catholic nun: I was going to take an exam in the history of religion, and … I asked to pass the Easter vacation at Lunden monastery, to get some feeling of what Christianity was. Others had told me how good it was to meditate in Catholic churches. ... I felt a presence there that made me feel that the only proper thing was to pray. After that I haven’t meditated. An inner “voice” told me that I should become a Catholic. ... In the summer, I visited a monastery in France and immediately, I felt that this would be my place. I came

248 

H. EIFRING

back for Easter next year, and my calling had grown even stronger, like a hand on my shoulder.6 (IA)

For Acem, the contact with the Catholic monasteries was seen as a valuable, yet transitional phenomenon that lasted a few years. The same was true about the contact with other meditative traditions.

Long Meditations and Deepening Retreats In the 1960s, retreats with long meditations were part of the TM movement’s activities in all parts of the world. However, mental problems were increasing in frequency, and finally Mahesh Yogi stopped the practice of long meditations and replaced it with “rounds”, that is, reiterated sequences consisting of half an hour of meditation followed by a number of yoga exercises. The retreat participants were expected to do several rounds per day. Other TM offshoots have also been reluctant to recommend long meditations. In contrast, Acem continued to arrange retreats with long meditations, usually of 3–4 hours. Long meditations were followed by psychologically oriented guidance sessions, which typically dealt with the meditator’s actualisations of life issues and interpreted things “downwards”, that is, as expressions of unresolved psychological issues, rather than “upwards”, as indications of spiritual experiences. There were hardly any cases of serious mental illness during the Acem retreats. At the time, the question remained if even longer meditations could be made available for a larger audience without causing psychological problems. Are was very cautious about this. He wanted the quality of the guidance provided by the Acem instructors to be good enough to deal with whatever would come up. (CHG)

This caution was perceived as necessary but also had its price: Looking back, I sometimes think we waited too long … At times, I have been thinking that we lost ten years. On the other hand, this caution undoubtedly saved us from some serious and unfortunate consequences. (OGO)

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

249

The big change that came with the inclusion of long meditations in Acem’s teaching came with the first deepening retreat, which was held in Sweden in July 1995. On this retreat, which lasted two weeks, there were meditations of 6–10 hours every day. They were followed by groups with so-called process guidance, which not only focused on the technical aspects of meditation but also on the emerging psychological and existential topics that appeared. Gradually, we understood how important it was to process the actualised content that emerged during the long meditations at retreats. They had considerable potential for growth if adequately dealt with. Also, it became clear that the stream of thoughts during long meditations was quite different from that of everyday life. (AH)

In addition to long meditations and process guidance, there were so-­ called free mental attitude exercises, that is, mental exercises aiming to enhance subtler ways of repeating the meditation sound, less tied to the speech organs, breath, or other physical aspects of the body. The subtler the repetition, the more profound issues were supposed to be made available for processing. In the years that followed, deepening retreats of one or two weeks became a common feature of the annual retreat programme. They combined meditations of 6–10 hours with process guidance and some time for exercises training the attention for deeper meditations. This was done by developing the free mental attitude towards subtler repetitions of the meditation sound. A few years later, walk-and-talk also became part of the deepening programme. Participants are encouraged to walk at least 3–5 kilometres every day for the physical exercise, and some of this walking is combined with talking with another participant about issues from their meditations, a kind of verbal processing in addition to the guidance groups. The idea was that careful and stepwise progression into the depths of meditation was paramount. Experience from weeklong regular retreats was later made a requirement for participating in the deepening retreats. In 2001, an additional step was taken by arranging the first advanced deepening retreat with round-the-clock meditations. During silence periods of 24 hours or more, the meditator lies down to sleep when tired, goes to the toilet when needed, does yoga if the body gets too stiff, and eats and drinks a little when feeling hungry or thirsty, mostly with closed or

250 

H. EIFRING

half-closed eyes. The remaining time, he or she meditates. The long hours of meditation is a challenge for some: I am a restless person. At the beginning, it was quite tough to sit for so long. I kept asking myself, “Isn’t this too much?”, and I wasn’t the only one who at times got a little apprehensive. I still find it demanding, but I know that I’m the kind of person who needs challenges to get past my own inner brakes. The long meditations actualise the restlessness I have inside me. (OGO)

This informant clearly felt it worthwhile, because as of 2005, he has organised retreats with round-the-clock meditations once or twice every year since. Meditating long hours provides a path inwards, an opening towards processing fundamental aspects of the mind. I can’t imagine how I could have got in contact with such fundamental inner dimensions without the long meditations. They have helped me understand important issues about myself and about existence. (OGO)

In order to qualify for advanced deepening retreats, meditators need to have had altogether six weeks of prior experience from the deepening retreats, which underlines the stepwise progression and the ability to maintain mental stability in the face of the ups and downs of the long meditations. With the advanced deepening retreats, some additional meditation techniques were also introduced. The additional techniques are meant to sensitise the meditator more towards an inner dimension that otherwise is not easy to relate to. They presuppose an intuitive orientation towards what goes beyond regular phenomena and the senses. When a meditator has got well into the deepening processes, no particular technique can guarantee any spiritual outcome. Some techniques will help some people, other techniques will help others. (AH)

Many of the informants maintain that their relation to a contemplative dimension is much stronger now than before, although spiritual and metaphysical interpretations of meditation experiences were much more prominent in the organisation back then than now:

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

251

At that time, it was more theoretical ideas than lived experience, it was something we read or heard about. Now it’s there as a silent presence. (CHG)

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries By focusing on the subjective experiences of insiders, this chapter on Acem’s inner history has unveiled some driving forces behind the development of Scandinavia’s largest homegrown school of meditation. The notion of “inner history” and the associated methodology by which “insiders” are interviewed by an “insider” may provide an alternative to widespread assumptions about the objectivity of “outsiders”. From the start, Acem has emphasised a larger panoply of meditative experiences than the “bliss” often touted by the TM movement. Many informants highlight what they see as the realism of Acem’s approach. In Acem’s understanding, focusing on the hurdles encountered along the way is important for how life themes and personality issues are processed during meditation. This contrast between faith-based ideas and the actual varieties of meditative and psychological experience may provide an important angle from which to study meditative practice, whether “Eastern” or “Western”, and whether in the Nordic countries or elsewhere. One important issue in the study of meditative practices regards the working mechanisms on which they build. In Acem’s experience, not all positive effects of meditation are automatic but depend on the way the meditator relates to the process, to his or her use of the attentional attitude in relation to the upcoming spontaneous manifestations. This implies an emphasis on existential responsibility. Acem’s psychological orientation may be seen as part of the widespread psychologisation of popular culture in the twentieth century. However, such an analysis fails to catch the specificities of this particular organisation. Also, the focus on such major cultural trends easily makes one lose sight of the personal experiences that provide a more immediate backdrop to the development. Therefore, this chapter has focused on the subjective motivations and reactions of people who were directly involved. The first communication group in 1970 has been placed as a turning point both in the lives of the participants and in the development of the organisation. This event initiated a long and still ongoing process, which allowed for a

252 

H. EIFRING

more extensive and systematic approach towards the psychological aspects of meditation. One crucial part of this approach was Acem’s interactive and dialogic meditation guidance, which aims to enhance the processing of psychological and existential issues. Also, this approach has made it possible to develop further a stepwise approach to the processing taking place in long meditations, especially after the introduction of deepening retreats from 1995 and round-the-clock meditations from 2001 onwards. In the development of the organisation, no single person has been more important than its founder, Are Holen. The emergence of Acem’s psychology of meditation owes much to what one informant calls Are Holen’s “astonishing gift for seeing the potential of meditation processes” (OGO). Tellingly, Are Holen is more frequently quoted in this chapter than any other informant. At the same time, however, “one characteristic of Are Holen has been a collective workstyle” (Davanger et al. 2005, 8, my translation). Most of his work has taken place in dialogue and interaction with others, “as a part of a community” (OGO). Therefore, his contributions are sometimes less visible to the outside world than to those who work closely with him.

Notes 1. The organisation was first called Academic Meditation Society but changed name to Acem in 1974. For practical reasons, this chapter will use the name Acem throughout. Its meditation method was referred to as Transcendental Meditation or TM until 1980, when the name changed to Acem Meditation. Are Holen retired from his role as head of the international organisation in 2016. 2. Mahesh Yogi is commonly known as Maharishi ‘Great Seer’, but the Indian Shankaracharya tradition from which he hailed does not refer to him by this title but as Mahesh Yogi. This chapter will collectively refer to his various organisations as ‘the TM movement’ and to his meditation technique as Transcendental Meditation or TM. 3. For examples of various TM offshoots, see schoolofmeditation.org, Benson and Klipper (1975), Carrington (1977), 1giantmind.com, natural-­stress-­ relief.com, and Lavender (2021). 4. The interviews were conducted in Norwegian by the author, who also translated the excerpts used. The author is a friend of all informants in groups 1–3 and has long known three of the four informants in group 4. The only exception is Rune Aaslid, with whom he spoke for the first time in connec-

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

253

tion with this interview. All informants agreed to be identified by name, and since linking statements to role in the organisation may be desirable, this has been done consistently. All interviews were recorded and roughly transcribed before the author worked out the structure of the article. Informants were asked to describe their subjective memories rather than any ‘official version’ of Acem’s history. Topics included personal experiences from learning meditation, entering the organisation, and their personal impressions of some of the central events described. Some interviews were conducted face-­ to-­face, others on Zoom. 5. ‘AM’ indicates that meditation was learned in Acem (AMS), ‘TM’ that it was learned in the TM movement (SRM), while the following year indicates the time of learning. In Acem’s current terminology, an initiator is qualified to give individual meditation sounds and is part of the leadership of the organisation, while an instructor is qualified to give meditation courses at different levels but not individual meditation sounds. 6. ‘A Hand on My Shoulder’ is the title of the Norwegian Cistercian monk and bishop John Willem Gran‘s autobiography (Gran 2004).

References Beier, Ernst G. 1966. The Silent Language of Psychotherapy: Social Reinforcement of Unconscious Processes. London: Aldine. Benson, Herbert, and Miriam Z.  Klipper. 1975. The Relaxation Response. New York: Morrow. Carrington, Patricia. 1977. Freedom in Meditation. New York: Doubleday. ———. 2012. The Book of Meditation: The Complete Guide to Modern Meditation. Kendall Park: Pace Educational Systems. Chryssides, George D., and Stephen E. Gregg. 2019. The Insider/Outsider Debate: New Perspectives in the Study of Religion. Sheffield: Equinox Publishing. Davanger, Svend, Halvor Eifring, and Ole Gjems-Onstad. 2005. Først organisasjon, så person. Dyade 3: 8–10. Davanger, Svend, Oyvind Ellingsen, Are Holen, and Kenneth Hugdahl. 2010. Meditation-specific Prefrontal Cortical Activation During Acem Meditation: An fMRI Study. Perception and Motor Skills 1: 291–306. Eifring, Halvor. 2016. Types of Meditation. In Asian Traditions of Meditation, ed. Halvor Eifring, 27–47. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press. ———, ed.., 2019. The Power of the Wandering Mind: Nondirective Meditation in Science and Philosophy. Oslo: Dyade Press. ———. 2022. Mind-Wandering and Emotional Processing in Nondirective Meditation. In New Perspectives on Mind-wandering, ed. Nadia Dario and Luca Tateo, 201–210. Berlin: Springer Nature.

254 

H. EIFRING

Fenichel, Otto. 1945. The Psychoanalytic Theory of Neurosis. New  York: W. W. Norton. Frankenberg, Ruth. 2004. Living Spirit, Living Practice: Poetics, Politics, Epistemology. Durham: Duke University Press. Füredi, Frank. 2004. Therapy Culture: Cultivating Vulnerability in an Uncertain Age. London: Routledge. Gran, John Willem. 2004. A Hand on My Shoulder: Memoirs of John Willem Gran. Trappist: Cistercian Publications. Gruen, Arno. 1988. Sviket mot deg selv: Frykten for autonomi hos menn og kvinner. Gjøvik: Aventura. Hersoug, Tor. 2021. 50 Years of Meditation: A Brief History of Acem. Oslo: Dyade Press. Hersoug, Anne Grete, Morten Wærsted, and Bjørn Lau. 2018. Nondirective Meditation Used in Stress Management. Nordic Psychology 4: 290–303. ———. 2021. Defensive Functioning Moderates the Effects of Nondirective Meditation. Frontiers in Psychology 12: 63. Hobbel, Torbjørn. 2018. Duften av syriner en tidlig morgen i mai: yoga, kropp og erkjennelse. Dyade 3: 5–33. Holen, Are. 1970. Meditasjonsnevrose. AMS-Informasjon 6: 3–4. ———. 1976. Stillhetens psykologi: transcendental meditasjon  – virkning og dynamikk. Oslo: Dyade forlag. ———. 2016. Psychology of Silence: Perspectives on Acem Meditation. Oslo: Dyade Press. Holen, Are, and Halvor Eifring. 2013. Acem Meditation: An Introductory Companion. Oslo: Dyade Press. Holen, Are, and Torbjørn Hobbel. 2010. Practical Guide to Acem Retreats. Oslo: Dyade Press. Igra, Ludvig. 1983. Objektrelationer och psykoterapi. Stockholm: Natur och kultur. Illouz, Eva. 2008. Saving the Modern Soul: Therapy, Emotions, and the Culture of Self-Help. Berkeley: University of California Press. Kenneally, James J. 1929. Inner History of the Kelly Gang. Dandenong: The Kelly Gang Publishing Company. Kohut, Heinz. 1990. Selvets psykologi. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. Lagopoulos, Jim, Jian Xu, Inge Rasmussen, Alexandra Vik, Gin S.  Malhi, Carl F.  Eliassen, Ingrid E.  Arntsen, Jardar G.  Saether, Stig Hollup, Are Holen, Svend Davanger, and Øyvind Ellingsen. 2009. Increased Theta and Alpha EEG Activity During Nondirective Meditation. Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine 15: 1187–1192. Lavender, Jillian. 2021. Why Meditate? Because it Works. London: Yellow Kite. Løøv, Margrethe. 2019. Between Religion and Science. Alternative Spirituality and Religion Review 1: 25–47.

  ACEM AND THE PSYCHOLOGY OF MEDITATION: THE INNER HISTORY… 

255

Masterson, James F. 1990. Det truede selv: borderline og narcissisme -personlighedsforstyrrelser i det moderne samfund. København: Hans Reitzels Forlag. McCutcheon, Russell T. 1999. The Insider/Outsider Problem in the Study of Religion: A Reader. London: Cassell. Nesvold, Anders, Morten W. Fagerland, Svend Davanger, Øyvind Ellingsen, Erik E. Solberg, Are Holen, Knut Sevre, and Dan Atar. 2012. Increased Heart Rate Variability During Nondirective Meditation. European Journal of Preventive Cardiology 4: 773–780. Olson, Helena, and Roland Olson. 2001. His Holiness Maharishi Mahesh Yogi: A Living Saint for the New Millennium. Schenectady: Samhita Productions. Packer, George. 2013. The Unwinding: An Inner History of the New America. London: Faber and Faber. Rogers, Carl R. 1965. Client-Centered Therapy: Its Current Practice, Implications, and Theory. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company. Rosenthal, Norman E. 2011. Transcendence: Healing and Transformation Through Transcendental Meditation. London: Hay House. Solberg, Erik Ekker. 2004. Psycho-biological Effects of Meditation. PhD Dissertation, University of Oslo, Oslo. Solli, Mattias. 2016. Towards an Embodied Hermeneutics: Gadamer, Merleau-­ Ponty, and Nondirective Meditation. PhD Dissertation, Norwegian University of Science and Technology, Trondheim. Stokland, Olav. 1969. Av Norges indre historie. Oslo: Dreyer. Turkle, Sherry. 2008. The Inner History of Devices. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. West, Michael A. 2016. The Psychology of Meditation: Research and Practice. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Xu, Jian, Alexandra Vik, Inge R.  Groote, Jim Lagopoulos, Are Holen, Oyvind Ellingsen, Asta K. Håberg, and Svend Davanger. 2014. Nondirective Meditation Activates Default Mode Network and Areas Associated with Memory Retrieval and Emotional Processing. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience 86: 1–10. Yesudian, Selvarajan, and Elisabeth Haich. 1953. Yoga and Health. London: George Allen & Unwin. Yudofsky, Stuart C. 2005. Fatal Flaws: Navigating Destructive Relationships with People with Disorders of Personality and Character. Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Pub.

Shinrin-Yoku in Sweden: The Political Significance of Embodiment and Sensory Attention in Nature Henrik Ohlsson

Introduction On a cold day in February 2018, I experience my first forest bathing session in a nature reserve near one of Sweden’s major cities. There among the trees, but with the noise from the road still clearly audible, the group gathers to receive some basic information and instructions. The guide begins to explain how the concept of shinrin-yoku, forest bathing, originated in Japan in the 1980s, where stress-related health problems had become rampant in the urban lifestyle. Policy makers concluded that the problem was nature deficiency. According to the guide, it was easier for the Japanese to reach this diagnosis because they did not share the European notion of man as separated from and placed above nature. She refers to some psychological and biomedical research that supports the

H. Ohlsson (*) Historical and Contemporary Studies, Södertörn University, Huddinge, Sweden e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_12

257

258 

H. OHLSSON

health benefits of being in nature—a large part of which has been conducted in Japan and Korea. But she also mentions the poetic and spiritual side of being in the forest, which in Japan may be expressed in Shintoistic terms but which in essence is something universal that we can all relate to. Now she points to the path ahead of us, which passes between a tall spruce and an oak tree. She asks us to imagine this as a gateway through which we are going to enter a different world, a world full of other living organisms, some of which are probably observing us in this very moment. We start walking extremely slowly, almost in slow motion, trying to take in everything that is going on around us in the forest. This chapter has two main purposes. The first is to describe and discuss how shinrin-yoku has been introduced in Sweden and grown into a widespread practice. This includes describing the practice, locating its place in contemporary Swedish and Western culture, and identifying its main influences. The second purpose, which is connected to the first, is to understand a specific aspect of forest bathing in the Swedish (or generally Western) context which distinguishes it from the Japanese context: its increasing politicisation and explicit connection to radical green ideologies. The two purposes generate two main questions, of which the first is very broad: 1. How has the concept of shinrin-yoku been received and reinterpreted since being introduced in Sweden? 2. Why and in what ways are embodiment and sensory attention in nature construed as radical political acts?

Shinrin-Yoku: A Japanese Practice Goes Global The practice of shinrin-yoku, usually translated as forest bathing, originated in Japan in the early 1980s. The term seems to have been coined by Tomohide Akiyama at the Japanese Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries in 1982 (Li 2018, 58; Miyazaki 2018, 9). Its purpose was to address the needs of city dwellers suffering from high stress levels. Thus, from the very beginning, the practice had support among policy makers. This support is reflected in the large body of research on forest bathing produced by Japanese scholars, many of whom are affiliated with agricultural research institutions (for an overview, see Tsunetsugu et al. 2009). There is also a well-established institution that supports the practice on a

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

259

national level and certifies forest bathing paths all over the country (Forest Therapy Society 2023). A related term is forest therapy, or shinrin-ryoho in Japanese (Chervenkova 2017), which can be almost synonymous with forest bathing, but which sometimes refers to a more focussed medical intervention. The distinction between the two terms has been a matter of some debate in international forest bathing circles. Petra Ellora Cau Wetterholm, a pioneering forest bathing practitioner in Sweden, has advocated the following distinction: Forest bathing is a nature-based, guided or non-guided preventive wellness practice to achieve a sensory connection with the natural environment for relaxation and sustained health. Forest therapy is a nature-based, guided and clinically reinforced forest bathing intervention, with additional treatment applications and adapted professional guiding skills to achieve a sensory connection with the natural environment and increased health in specific populations. (Wetterholm 2020, 108)

In the last decade, practices labelled as shinrin-yoku or forest bathing have spread rapidly in Western countries and received a lot of media attention. One important organisation promoting this practice worldwide is the US-based Association of Nature and Forest Therapy Guides and Programs (ANFT). ANFT has developed a basic model for a forest bathing session which is used, with some variations, by many organisations and individual practitioners in North America and Europe. Local organisations as well as individual guides develop and tweak this model according to their own preferences and competences, but the basic structure and much of the content are still recognisable across these variations. The Practice A typical forest bathing session, according to the ANFT model and its offshoots, lasts about 3–4 hours. It is usually ritually framed in some way in order to set it aside from the everyday; for instance, participants will imagine a threshold or portal in the form of a fallen tree or between two trees, through which they pass to begin the session, and sometimes again at the end. The session consists of a very slow and attentive walk, with stops along the way for sensory awareness exercises and sharing circles to

260 

H. OHLSSON

discuss experiences. Early on, the guide usually leads a kind of journey through the senses, asking participants to listen, look, smell, feel the wind on their skins, and also to feel their own bodies, how the air feels going into the lungs, how the feet feel balancing the body’s weight on the ground, etc. This is to help participants open all their senses in the beginning of the session. During stops along the way, participants may be invited to partake in numerous different exercises, most of which involve close sensory attention. After each exercise, the guide gathers the group again for participants to exchange experiences and receive new instructions/invitations. After a series of such invitations, the session ends with a tea ceremony meant to create a sense of community involving the human participants together with non-human beings and the forest itself. The specific activities practised within a forest bathing session include exercises of focussed sensory attention involving all senses, but also symbolic and artistic exercises. In one common exercise that occurs in many different versions, participants approach a tree, try to take it in with all their senses, and then sit with it for a while. Often, this exercise also includes symbolic and empathic ways of connecting and communicating with the tree. Practitioners might imagine themselves as having roots going deep into the ground and branches stretching towards the sun. They also often receive messages from the tree pertaining to their own lives, which may be experienced in the form of (silent) words or derived metaphorically from events or interactions involving the tree or the place as a whole. Aesthetic factors are often central to forest bathing practice. In some exercises, participants are invited to find specific colours in the landscape or to be especially attentive to the spaces in between things. Some activities are purely artistic exercises where participants make arrangements, such as leaf mandalas, or sing in tunes they perceive from the landscape. Some more examples of exercises that may be part of a forest bathing session will be further described and discussed below. As we can see, mindful presence, sensory attention, and aesthetic attention are important elements of the practice. All of these elements are present in the Japanese context as well, judging from recent popular publications by Japanese scholars (Li 2018; Miyazaki 2018).1 The difference seems to lie more on an ideological level where, as we shall see, Swedish and Western forest bathing practice has acquired stronger connotations of counter-culture (although efforts are also being made towards integrating it with the conventional healthcare system).

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

261

Shinrin-Yoku in Sweden The idea of Swedes as a nature-loving people goes back at least to the late nineteenth-century outdoor culture (friluftsliv), where the natural landscape became a place for adventure and recreation (Sandell and Sörlin 2008). This was largely a response to a decrease in everyday interaction with the natural surroundings and a stricter division between work and leisure time, both results of industrialisation. Swedish outdoor culture was originally the preserve of the elite, inspired by romanticism, American transcendentalism, and the pioneering spirit of scientific discovery; today, it has developed into a mass culture with many different branches, from sports such as running and canoeing to hunting, fishing, and mushroom picking, to bird-watching and botany (Sandell and Sörlin 2008, 206–207). Outdoor culture has also been an arena for fostering ecological awareness, especially from the 1960s onwards (Klöfver 2008, 156–166). This appears to have made a deep impact, and in recent decades, an ecocentric attitude (i.e. a view of humans as part of nature alongside other species) has become discernible in mainstream culture (Uddenberg 1995, 31–32; Thurfjell 2020, 242–268). Outdoor culture is still a growing phenomenon in Sweden. Visits to national parks increased by 21 per cent between 2013 and 2019 (Naturvårdsverket 2020). The Covid-19 pandemic appears to have further reinforced this trend (Länsstyrelsen Stockholm 2021; Skriver Hansen et al. 2021). Forest bathing may thus be seen in the context of an increased interest in outdoor culture, in general, as well as that of a wider health and wellbeing culture. The growing public awareness of the ecological crisis is another important factor, seeing as most forest bathing practitioners consider the practice as a way towards more harmonious human-nature relations. Sweden today is a highly secularised culture according to many parameters, with a widespread reluctance towards traditional organised religion. At the same time, many people seem to be prone to having spiritual and other strong existential experiences in nature and to turn to nature in times of crisis (Ahmadi 2006; Bromander 2008; Thurfjell et  al. 2019; Thurfjell 2020). Although many Swedes maintain a connection to nature through spending time in summerhouses, berry and mushroom picking, hunting and fishing, forest bathing seems to be a way of more directly addressing these existential needs.

262 

H. OHLSSON

These developments and cultural trends are certainly not unique to the Swedish context. Many Western countries have seen similar developments, and the ecocentric tendencies in contemporary Swedish culture can be discerned in many other parts of the industrialised world (cf. Taylor 2010). The general propensity to spend time in nature does not seem to be universal, however. Immigrants from the Mediterranean region, for instance, with its longer history of urban culture, are sometimes astonished by the Swedish eagerness to spend time alone in nature (Pedersen and Peterson 2006; Moshtat 2007; Thurfjell 2020, 16–18). The practice of Shinrin-Yoku was introduced in Sweden as late as 2016, but has grown rapidly since then. The Scandinavian Forest and Nature Therapy Institute (SNFTI), founded in 2019, has trained about 80 forest bathing guides to date. Those who train to be forest bathing guides in Sweden are predominantly women with an average age of around 50. They are distributed all over the country, and they have a higher-than-­ average level of education (see also Ohlsson 2022a, 103–105). Many are professionally active in the caring sector, and many also have a background in mindfulness or other forms of meditation. This demographic pattern is roughly similar to what we find in many forms of holistic health practices and contemporary spiritualities, apart from the somewhat higher level of education (Frisk 2000, 59). Linda Woodhead (2007) has observed that because women in modernity are, to a greater extent than men, torn between the role of caregiver and their professional role, they may be more inclined to embark on a deep search for their own identity. Many holistic health practices also emphasise that self-care does not stand in opposition to caring for others or for the world at large, which may be attractive to people (in many cases women) who suffer from a long-term neglect of their own needs (cf. Puttick 2000, 205–206; Ivakhiv 2003; Partridge 2005, 43). Many of my interlocutors do indeed relate episodes of burnout or similar conditions which forced them to re-evaluate themselves and their way of life. It is often through this process that they found their way to forest bathing. As we shall see, the practice is very much focussed on bodily presence—which often seems to be exactly what practitioners felt was lacking in their previous lifestyle. As we will also see, however, this bodily presence entails much more than just paying attention to one’s own needs; it also creates emotional ties to the landscape in which it is practised.

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

263

Influences In previous research (Ohlsson 2022a), I have identified six main influences in what I have called the nature connection movement, of which forest bathing is part. In this chapter, my focus lies on two of these. One is mindfulness, which in itself may be seen as an Eastern influence and which contributes to our understanding of embodiment and sensory presence. The other is deep ecology, which contributes to our understanding of the stronger political connotations that forest bathing has acquired in the Western cultural context.

Mindfulness Many Western practitioners of forest bathing have a background in mindfulness or in more explicitly Buddhist forms of meditation.2 M.  Amos Clifford, founder of the ANFT and one of the leading promoters of forest bathing and forest therapy worldwide, has a background in Zen meditation. In his recipe for forest bathing, he does not advocate the complete equanimity of mind that is cultivated in Zen meditation. Unpleasant experiences are not shunned or ignored, but pleasurable ones are given priority (Clifford 2018, 34–38). Some of my Swedish interlocutors also reference Zen, Vipassana, and indeed mindfulness. Sten, a Swedish forest bathing guide with previous training as a mindfulness instructor, discusses similarities and differences between mindfulness and forest bathing during our conversations. As he sees it, the two practices involve both inward and outward attention, but mindfulness places more emphasis on the inward and forest bathing on the outward. His mindfulness practice led him to forest bathing. He felt from the start that he wanted to practice mindfulness in nature, and then found his way to forest bathing (interviews with Sten, 3 Oct 2020 and 12 Oct 2021). Thus, apart from the concept of shinrin-yoku itself, at least one more of the main influences discernible in Western forest bathing practice is arguably of an Eastern origin.

Deep Ecology Another important source of inspiration for forest bathing, which is more apparent in the Western context, is deep ecology, especially the branch of deep ecology called ecopsychology. Deep ecology was originally defined by Arne Naess as a relational, total-field image where the multiple

264 

H. OHLSSON

relationships in which organisms take part are constitutional of the organism itself (Naess 1973). It is a rejection of the atomistic image of organisms (including human beings) as discrete entities with stable, non-contextual properties. Ecopsychology, specifically, views mental health in a similar way, arguing that the wellbeing of individuals cannot be separated from the wellbeing of their environment (Roszak 1994; Hillman 1995; Sewall 1995). Deep ecology and ecopsychology can perhaps be classified as Western currents of thought, at least in their academic formulations. However, there are also strong influences from the philosophies of indigenous peoples and, again, from mindfulness and Buddhist traditions. The Zen Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, one of the key figures in the mindfulness movement, is also an important influence in deep ecology (e.g. Nhât Hạnh 2013a, b). Joanna Macy is another important thinker in deep ecology who also builds to a large extent on Buddhist traditions (e.g. Macy 2013). The question of origins and borrowings is complicated indeed. Deep ecology adds a social and political dimension to forest bathing, which can be more or less pronounced depending on the individual practitioner.3 Some practitioners take part in environmental activism and advocacy. However, the act of connecting deeply with nature is also in itself often seen as a radical act. This is where embodiment, and its implication of non-duality between human and nature, can become a form of resistance in relation to contemporary Western culture.

Embodiment and Sensory Attention What, then, is so radical about embodiment and sensory attention? And what does it have to do with our relationship with nature? In the following, I will describe three important aspects of practitioners’ experiences and interpretations of what embodiment and sensory attention does to their relationships with nature: embodied identification, embodied reciprocity and communication, and nature as egalitarian community. Embodied Identification One leading practitioner in Sweden shares her view of the relationship between humanity and nature: I think we are part of nature in just about every way; we can neither breathe nor dress nor survive… well, what is it? Five minutes? Without nature. And

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

265

there is nothing inorganic about us either. We are fully degradable, unless we’ve had a titanium ball or something surgically inserted. We consist of the same substance as nature. (Interview with Eleonora, 20 Aug. 2020)

Thus, through the substance of the body, we are connected with the rest of nature. Moreover, for those who practice forest bathing, this connection is not just a factual observation but also deeply felt through sensory and emotional connection. Through close sensory attention, practitioners strive for an intimate connection with other beings, to feel part of the whole of nature, and also to empathise and identify with specific non-human beings. An idea of oneself as consisting of the same basic substance as the rest of nature means that identifying with other beings is no big leap. For many practitioners, this sameness offers the potential for meaningful communication. Embodied Reciprocity and Communication Many practitioners do indeed experience an active, communicative reciprocity in natural environments, especially when they are roaming around without a set goal. The appearance of birds or other animals, for instance, may become part of a communication not only with that animal but with the whole forest or with a place in the forest. One common forest bathing exercise is called “sit spot.” The idea is to find a place to sit for a while and give full attention to the place and everything that is going on in the surrounding landscape. Ideally, the practitioner should have one or more such places to visit regularly and get to know through the seasons. Two practitioners’ recollections of finding such spots may serve to illustrate this kind of communicative reciprocity. Charlotte, who recently came to the practice, was training to be a forest bathing guide and had been instructed to find a sit spot to return to regularly. She was walking through a park near her home, originally planning to continue to a forested area further away, which she also often visited. The park at first felt too civilised. But as she passed by an attractive hill with a bench that never seemed to be used by anyone else, a roe deer appeared, and she felt that “well, if it’s good enough for the roe deer it’s good enough for me too” (interview with Charlotte, 9 Sept. 2021). Tina, a forest bathing guide with a couple of years of experience in leading sessions, also recalls an occasion when she found a sit spot and describes this even more clearly as a communicative experience:

266 

H. OHLSSON

I wandered around to find a place where I wanted to sit for a while. And then I sat down. At first it was all quiet, but then this thing happened that tends to happen when you have your place where you sit: you begin to see things. There were some birds and a squirrel that came up close. But the most awesome thing that was so powerful, because I love raptors. […] It was a big heavy raptor that just “poof!,” lifted and flew away maybe 50 metres ahead of me or so. It was powerful! And then I sat for a while and made notes and then only after maybe 15 minutes it came back. I was wondering if it was the same bird. It flew between the tree trunks just 15 metres in front of me. So, I could feel the heavy sound and, yes, a big bird, yeah, it was overwhelming, awesome! And then I got this strong feeling that, well, I trusted my intuition in choosing that place, and it felt like it chose me rather than that I chose it, or perhaps that we chose each other mutually. (Interview with Tina, 10 Nov. 2019)

Finding a good sit spot—and indeed forest bathing in general—seems to require a certain openness to suggestions, a readiness to follow whatever comes up in the moment. Moreover, for some practitioners, the communication with the landscape is not just a matter of receiving and interpreting information; sometimes sensory experience itself is described as inherently communicative. Eleonora expresses something very much in line with Merleau-Ponty’s understanding of sensory experience as a two-­ way process: When I touch something, it’s a communication. […] In the deeper levels of forest bathing, it’s also to feel touched by a blueberry leaf or a taste or a tree. (Interview with Eleonora, 20 Aug. 2020)

Having been engaged in forest bathing for many years, she describes her current condition as a state of almost constant communication with all kinds of natural beings, even in urban environments. Trees, insects, birds—all kinds of natural elements can be part of this communication even within the city. The key seems to be to simply be attentive, which is perhaps easier in nature areas but apparently possible also in urban environments. Nature as Egalitarian Community Being of the same substance as, and being in a state of reciprocal communication with, the surrounding nature also implies a community with

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

267

other beings. Unlike human society, however, this community is experienced as egalitarian and free from social demands, and in this way conducive to healing and recuperation. This idea was expressed by Annika, who is trained in both forest bathing and other forms of nature-based therapy: To get to be in nature on the same terms as the trees or the moose or the ant, simply being there, it takes me to a space that I rarely get to in my everyday life, a space inside which, as I’m thinking now, has to do with a lack of demands, a pause from achievement and from trying to meet any kind of expectations. (Interview with Annika, 13th Feb. 2018)

Another practitioner, Eva, expresses something along the same lines: [The forest] is where you can be regardless of who you are and what you do or if you’re unemployed or whatever. (Interview with Eva, 9th May 2018)

The American forest therapy trainer and lecturer Ben Page said in a webinar with the international forum International Forest Therapy Days (IFTD) that instead of being preoccupied with who we are, in terms of abstractions such as jobs, relationships, and belief systems, we should focus on what we are. “Nature,” he explains, “is everything that is happening right here, right now. Abstractions and generalisations are not nature” (IFTD Webinar, 26 Sept. 2020). My Swedish interlocutors seem to express something like this in the quotes above. An immersion in bodily presence temporarily dissolves the demanding abstractions of their everyday social lives, their roles in human society. Instead, it makes for a direct, unconditional, and egalitarian interaction and communication with the world around them.

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries I find the concept of cultural borrowing somewhat problematic, as it seems to imply that cultures are discrete entities constituted by smaller and likewise discrete entities which are the exclusive property of that culture and which stay the same regardless of context. I am not suggesting that the terms Japanese culture or Swedish culture are completely empty signifiers nor that the historical genealogies of certain ideas and practices cannot be properly ascribed to them; only that cultural boundaries are

268 

H. OHLSSON

permeable and that elements that pass between them are coloured and subjected to new influences in the new context.4 For instance, mindfulness practices are now widespread and integrated into mainstream culture in many parts of the world. “Mindfulness” is often considered as a translation of the Buddhist concept of sati, but its origins have been subject to some debate, where the balance has shifted mainly between Zen and Theravada Buddhism, while others see it as a Western phenomenon with little connection to Buddhist practice and teachings at all (Husgafvel 2016). Ville Husgafvel has suggested the idea of lineage, as opposed to essentialising different Buddhist traditions (Husgafvel 2016). In this way, he traces influences in the thinking of Jon Kabat-Zinn, sometimes considered to be the father of Western mindfulness, to various teachers and literary sources within all the major Buddhist traditions (Husgafvel 2016, 101–104, 2018). In a Western context, practices such as yoga and mindfulness often appear in more or less decontextualised forms, that is, as practices intended for bodily exercise, relaxation, and enhanced concentration, while their roots in Hindu and Buddhist traditions are downplayed (Hyland 2017; Husgafvel 2018; Purser 2019). However, these practices also acquire a new context with new influences and inspirations. Even if they have lost much of their original context, they do not exist in a vacuum. To complicate things further, the Western idea of mindfulness seems to have been “reimported” to Japan under the English loanword maindufurunesu (Hasper 2019). Adjustment and Resistance Like many forms of contemporary holistic spirituality and wellbeing practice, forest bathing in Sweden is shaped by, but also expresses a resistance to, current social and cultural conditions (see also Ohlsson 2022b). Connecting more deeply with nature on a personal level is understood as an act of defiance against the modern Western paradigm of separation from, and domination over, nature. Nature is here associated with embodiment, direct sensory experience, and presence in the here and now. By practitioners, this attitude is often ascribed to the philosophies and spiritual practices of the East or of indigenous peoples all over the world, in contrast to Cartesian mind-body dualism and the anthropocentrism of the Abrahamitic religions.

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

269

Many new therapies and wellbeing practices exist in a borderland between alternative spirituality and conventional health care. Practitioners may strive towards the latter end of the spectrum in order to gain wider acceptance for the practice, to increase opportunities to make a living out of it, and also, of course, because they genuinely see it as a potential improvement to the healthcare system. In some cases, practitioners still emphasise the radical and revolutionary potential of their practice, even in this integrated form. This is the case with mindfulness, whose most profiled practitioners often think of it as a radical break with our contemporary lifestyle and society (e.g. Nhât Hạnh 2013a, b; Booth [Kabat-Zinn] 2017), while critics consider it a neoliberal form of spirituality laying all responsibility for wellbeing on the individual and primarily concerned with helping people to maintain efficiency in the workplace (Hyland 2017; Purser 2019). Scholars have observed a general process of adjustment and integration of contemporary spiritual practices into society: from their emergence as part of a radical counter-culture in the 1960s to the proliferation of self-­ help methods for consumers in a late capitalist culture of self-improvement and entrepreneurship in the 1990s—“from New Age to Next Age,” as Massimo Introvigne (2001) puts it. New Age methods for self-­ development, as well as, for instance, mindfulness in a decontextualised form, have even become integrated into corporate culture in some companies. This may be seen as a way to harness the spirituality and wellbeing of employees as a company asset (Karjalainen 2022). Even in these integrated forms, however, such practices may challenge some hegemonic ideas, such as the barrier between professional and personal in the workplace (Aupers and Houtman 2006). Arlie Russell-Hochschild has observed how the high level of emotional control required in modern public life—and especially in corporate life—has prompted a cultural counter-reaction in the form of a high appreciation for natural, unmanaged emotion (Russell-­ Hochschild 2012, 22–23, 190–198). Many contemporary wellbeing practices, while to a large extent reflecting consumerist and entrepreneurial ideals, may also be seen as part of this counter-reaction. Many leading forest bathing practitioners make active efforts to integrate their methods into the conventional healthcare system, emphasising the scientific support for the health benefits of nature connection. Some participate actively in clinical psychological studies, or even design and conduct such studies (e.g. Wetterholm 2020). Thus, there is a movement towards integration in the Swedish forest bathing community. At the same

270 

H. OHLSSON

time, however, the rhetoric found on websites and other publications associated with this community, as well as in interviews and private conversations, also contains a fundamental critique of Western modernity, particularly its anthropocentrism and its basic dichotomies (nature/culture, body/mind, etc.). Political Implications of Embodiment and Sensory Presence As we have seen, direct bodily/sensory connection with non-human beings leads my interlocutors to experiences of reciprocity, communication, and community. On an intellectual level, this identification with the rest of nature through an awareness of being of the same substance is not just an intellectual recognition of a fact, but also an expression of sensory experience. These experiences are often verbalised in clear contrast to an idea of Western modernity, which is seen to separate humanity from nature and, analogously, spirit from matter. Some of the inspiration for this attitude of non-separation between spirit and matter, which we could call a vitalist materialist monism, can be traced to the phenomenological current in Western philosophy, and especially Merleau-Ponty. Among the books that are recommended on forest bathing websites is David Abram’s The Spell of the Sensuous (1997), which advocates a form of animism, a revival of the world of the senses, built in large part on the works of Merleau-Ponty and his understanding of perception as a two-way process (the seer who is also seen, the toucher who is also touched, the living matter, the flesh, which is “coiling over itself” [Merleau-Ponty 1968, 146]). The Attraction of the East Much of the inspiration comes from—or is at least attributed by practitioners to—non-Western sources. Apart from the Japanese influences, many practitioners take an interest in animist ideas and lifestyles attributed to indigenous. This attraction to non-Western sources of inspiration (and perhaps especially to sources identified as “Eastern”) is also seen today in many other kinds of holistic wellbeing and spiritual practices. This appears natural, seeing as many of them are actively seeking ways out of the modern Western paradigm. I have often heard practitioners—including a Japanese academic with longstanding involvement in forest bathing— express a view of Japanese culture (or Asian cultures in general) as less

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

271

anthropocentric than Western culture. This characterisation of Japanese culture has also been made in recent publications by Japanese scholars (Li 2018, 16–23; Miyazaki 2018, 44–46). If this is the case, it might explain why the countercultural element is less pronounced in the Japanese-­ authored books: the ecocentric perspective of humanity as part of nature is simply taken for granted. Compared with Western literature on the subject, these Japanese authors place a stronger emphasis on the scientific support for the health benefits of the practice (see also Ohlsson 2022a, 93–102). Although ecocentric values do in fact appear to be widespread in Swedish culture as well (Uddenberg 1995, 169–180; Thurfjell 2020, 242–268), they are often construed as an undercurrent that challenges certain central tenets of the hegemonic cultural paradigm. The observation that embodiment resists central aspects of the current social and cultural paradigm does not mean that it necessarily poses a serious challenge to this paradigm. Indulging in such resistance on a personal level may be no more than a way of coping with the pressures of the current condition, of finding temporary relief from being caught up in all the abstractions that govern modern life. My point here is simply to place the practice of forest bathing in a wider undercurrent, discernible throughout modernity, that resists and seeks to escape the condition of alienation from nature (which can be translated to matter, including our own bodies).

Notes 1. Some caution is required here, however, seeing as the two cited volumes were both published in 2018, when shinrin-yoku/forest bathing was already a global movement in which the Japanese practice may also have found new influences. 2. This is certainly not absent from the Japanese context either (see for example Miyazaki 2018, 78–82). 3. There are also practices which are not labelled as forest bathing or shinrin-­ yoku, but which bear a strong resemblance, in which this social and political dimension is more pronounced (Ohlsson 2022a, 87–92, 2022b). 4. Of course, elements of culture are not static in “their own” cultural context either.

272 

H. OHLSSON

References Abram, David. 1997. The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-­ Than-­Human World. New York: Vintage Books Editions. Ahmadi, Fereshteh. 2006. Culture, Religion and Spirituality in Coping: The Example of Cancer Patients in Sweden. Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. Aupers, Stef, and Dick Houtman. 2006. Beyond the Spiritual Supermarket: The Social and Public Significance of New Age Spirituality. Journal of Contemporary Religion 2: 201–222. Booth, Robert. 2017. Master of Mindfulness, Jon Kabat-Zinn: ‘People are losing their minds. That is what we need to wake up to’. The Guardian. https:// www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2017/oct/22/mindfulness-­jon-­kabat-­ zinn-­depression-­trump-­grenfell. Accessed 30 Mar 2023. Bromander, Jonas. 2008. Enköpingsstudien: En religionssociologisk analys. In Guds närmaste stad? En studie om religionernas betydelse i ett svenskt samhälle i början av 2000-talet, ed. Kajsa Ahlstrand and Gunnar Gunner, 53–102. Stockholm: Verbum. Chervenkova, Velizara. 2017. Japanese Psychotherapies Silence and Body-Mind Interconnectedness in Morita, Naikan and Dohsa-hou. Singapore: Springer Singapore. Clifford, M.  Amos. 2018. Your Guide to Forest Bathing: Experience the Healing Power of Nature. Berkeley: Conari Press. Forest Therapy Society. 2023. https://www.fo-­society.jp/en/. Accessed 24 Jan 2023. Frisk, Liselotte. 2000. New Age-utövare i Sverige: Bakgrund, trosföreställningar, engagemang och “omvändelse”. In Gudars och gudinnors återkomst: Studier i nyreligiositet, ed. Carl-Gustav Carlsson and Liselotte Frisk, 52–90. Umeå: Umeå universitet, Institutionen för religionsvetenskap. Hasper, Silke. 2019. Semantics of Self-Optimization: Mindfulness in Contemporary Japan. Conference Paper Delivered at EASR, June 25–29, 2019 in Tartu. Hillman, James. 1995. A Psyche the Size of the Earth: A Psychological Foreword. In Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind, ed. Theodore Roszak, Mary E. Gomes, and Allen D. Kanner, xvii–1. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books. Hochschild, Arlie Russell. 2012. The Managed Heart: Commercialization of Human Feeling. Berkeley: University of California Press. Husgafvel, Ville. 2016. On the Buddhist Roots of Contemporary Non-Religious Mindfulness Practice: Moving Beyond Sectarian and Essentialist Approaches. Temenos 1: 87–126. ———. 2018. The ‘Universal Dharma Foundation’ of Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction: Non-Duality and Mahāyāna Buddhist Influences in the Work of Jon Kabat-Zinn. Contemporary Buddhism 2: 275–326.

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

273

Hyland, T. 2017. McDonaldizing Spirituality: Mindfulness, Education, and Consumerism. Journal of Transformative Education 15 (4): 334–356. Introvigne, Massimo. 2001. After the New Age: Is There a Next Age? In New Age Religion and Globalization, ed. Mikael Rothstein, 58–69. Århus: Århus University Press. Ivakhiv, Adrian. 2003. Nature and Self in New Age Pilgrimage. Culture and Religion 1: 93–118. Karjalainen, Mira. 2022. When Spirituality Becomes Spiritual Labour: Workplace Mindfulness as a Practice of Well-Being and Productivity. In New Spiritualities and the Cultures of Well-Being, ed. Géraldine Mossière, 99–116. Cham: Springer Nature. Klöfver, Helena. 2008. Miljö och livsstil. In Friluftshistoria: från “härdande friluftslif” till ekoturism och miljöpedagogik: teman i det svenska friluftslivets historia, ed. Klas Sandell and Sverker Sörlin, 156–166. Stockholm: Carlsson. Länsstyrelsen Stockholm. 2021. https://www.lansstyrelsen.se/stockholm/om-­ oss/pressrum/nyheter/nyheter%2D%2D-­s tockholm/2021-­0 2-­1 7-­f ler-­ besokare-­i-­naturen-­under-­pandemin%2D%2D-­nu-­satsas-­det-­pa-­friluftslivet. html. Accessed 12 June 2021. Li, Qing. 2018. Forest Bathing: How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness. New York: Viking. Macy, Joanna. 2013. The Greening of the Self. In Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth, ed. Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, 151–164. Point Reyes: Golden Sufi Centre. Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. 1968. The Visible and the Invisible: Followed by Working Notes. Evanston: Northwestern University Press. Miyazaki, Miyazaki. 2018. Shinrin Yoku: The Japanese Art of Forest Bathing. New York: Timber Press. Moshtat, Yusra. 2007. Med andra ögon: Naturmöten med invandrare. Naturvårdsverkets rapport 5808. http://naturvardsverket.diva-­portal.org/ smash/record.jsf?pid=diva2%3A1623212&dswid=-­2451. Accessed 11 Apr 2023. Naess, Arne. 1973. The Shallow and the Deep, Long-Range Ecology Movement. A Summary. Inquiry 16: 95–100. Naturvårdsverket. 2020. https://www.naturvardsverket.se/Miljoarbete­i -­s amhallet/Miljoarbete-­i -­S verige/Uppdelat-­e fter-­o mrade/Naturvard/ Anslag-­och-­resultat-­av-­vardefull-­natur-­/2019/Nationalparker/. Accessed 12 June 2021. Nhât Hạnh, Thich. 2013a. A Love Letter to the Earth. Berkeley: Parallax Press. ———. 2013b. The Bells of Mindfulness. In Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth, ed. Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, 31–36. Point Reyes: Golden Sufi Centre. Ohlsson, Henrik. 2022a. Facing Nature: Cultivating Experience in the Nature Connection Movement. Huddinge: Södertörns högskola.

274 

H. OHLSSON

———. 2022b. Nature Connection as Spirituality, Wellbeing Practice, and Subjective Activism. In New Spiritualities and the Cultures of Well-Being, ed. Géraldine Mossière, 153–168. Cham: Springer Nature. Partridge, Christopher H. 2005. The Re-Enchantment of the West: Volume II, Alternative Spiritualities, Sacralization, Popular Culture and Occulture. London: T & T Clark International. Pedersen, Inger, and Aila Peterson. 2006. Naturen som mötesplats. In Mångnatur: Friluftsliv och natursyn i det mångkulturella samhället, ed. Ella Johansson, 60–66. Tumba: Naturvårdsverket and Mångkulturellt centrum. Purser, Ronald E. 2019. McMindfulness: How Mindfulness Became the New Capitalist Spirituality. London: Repeater Books. Puttick, Elizabeth. 2000. Personal Development: The Spiritualisation and Secularisation of the Human Potential Movement. In Beyond New Age: Exploring Alternative Spirituality, ed. Steven Sutcliffe and Marion Bowman, 201–219. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Roszak, Theodore. 1994. Definition of Ecopsychology. The Ecopsychology Newsletter 1: 8. Sandell, Klas, and Sverker Sörlin. 2008. Förändring och kontinuitet. In Friluftshistoria: från “härdande friluftslif” till ekoturism och miljöpedagogik: teman i det svenska friluftslivets historia, ed. Klas Sandell and Sverker Sörlin, 206–207. Stockholm: Carlsson. Sewall, Laura. 1995. The Skill of Ecological Perception. In Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind, ed. Theodore Roszak, Mary E. Gomes, and Allen D. Kanner, 201–215. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books. Skriver Hansen, Andreas, Javier Falla Arce, and Ida Lindberg. 2021. Friluftslivet under coronapandemin: Kartläggning av friluftsvanor och vistelse i naturen under coronapandemin i Västra Götaland, MISTRA Sport & Outdoors Rapport 2021:1. Taylor, Bron Raymond. 2010. Dark Green Religion: Nature Spirituality and the Planetary Future. Berkeley: University of California Press. Thurfjell, David. 2020. Granskogsfolk: Hur naturen blev svenskarnas religion. Stockholm: Norstedts. Thurfjell, David, Cecilie Rubow, Atko Remmel, and Henrik Ohlsson. 2019. The Relocation of Transcendence: Using Schutz to Conceptualize the Nature Experiences of Secular People. Nature and Culture 2: 190–214. Tsunetsugu, Yuko, Bum-Jin Park, and Yoshifumi Miyazaki. 2009. Trends in Research Related to “Shinrin-yoku” (Taking in the Forest Atmosphere or Forest Bathing) in Japan. Environmental Health and Preventive Medicine 15: 27–37. Uddenberg, Nils. 1995. Det stora sammanhanget: Moderna svenskars syn på människans plats i naturen. Nora: Nya Doxa.

  SHINRIN-YOKU IN SWEDEN: THE POLITICAL SIGNIFICANCE… 

275

Wetterholm, Petra Ellora Cau. 2020. From Forest Bathing as a Preventive Wellness Practice to a Forest Therapy Treatment Intervention in Public Mental Health Care: A Forest Therapy Group Intervention for Exhaustion Disorder, Anxiety and Depression. In Forests for Public Health, ed. Christos Gallis and Won Sop Shin, 98–115. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Woodhead, Linda. 2007. Why so Many Women in Holistic Spirituality? A Puzzle Revisited. In A Sociology of Spirituality, ed. Kieran Flanagan and Peter C. Jupp, 115–126. Aldershot: Ashgate.

Starving the Animal Within: Vegetarianism as Spiritual Development and Eastern Wisdom in Early Swedish Theosophy Johan Nilsson

Introduction Questions of food and diet are among the classical objects of study for anthropologists of religion and other scholars invested in the lived experience of religious life. In recent years, several scholars have drawn attention to the importance of foodways, defined by Graham Harvey as “everything related to the production and consumption of food” to the study of religion (Harvey 2015; Zeller 2015). Harvey has gone so far as to argue that “[f]oodways are so frequently central to religious acts (even if they are insufficiently recognized as such) that they may define ‘religion’ as much as they differentiate between religions” (Harvey 2015, 32). This chapter will focus on printed sources in Swedish from the Theosophical movement’s early period (1889–1914) to provide insight into how Theosophists

J. Nilsson (*) Centre for Theology and Religious Studies, Lund University, Lund, Sweden e-mail: [email protected] © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8_13

277

278 

J. NILSSON

in Sweden imagined, argued for, and, to a lesser extent, practiced vegetarianism.1 I will focus primarily on how Theosophists presented vegetarianism as a spiritual practice and placed it in a historical narrative that tended to relate this practice to Indian precursors. Since the goal is to comprehend how Theosophical vegetarianism was understood and constructed in Sweden at the time, I have included all writings on vegetarianism that were presented as authoritative by Swedish Theosophical periodicals.2 Some of these works were originally translated from other languages. However, by being translated, they were nonetheless a part of how representatives of the Swedish Theosophical movement chose to present vegetarianism to their fellow Theosophists and the public. Although I will not explore the possible social or organizational interactions between Theosophical vegetarianism and the broader Swedish vegetarian movement here, I will draw attention to the broader context of Swedish vegetarianism in which Theosophical vegetarianism was obviously a component. Finally, I will use Theosophical vegetarianism to draw some broader conclusions about the movement’s understanding of the body, its needs and desires, and how its possible transformation was seen to reflect a transformation of society. I believe these ideas are central to understanding Theosophy’s lived dimensions and the recognition of the movement’s proper place in the Swedish cultural and societal context and likely in other local contexts.

Predators and Eaters of Grass: The Vegetarian Movement in Sweden at the Turn of the Twentieth Century Although vegetarianism was developing as a movement in Britain and continental Europe as early as the mid-1800s, it reached Scandinavia some decades later. In Sweden, vegetarianism slowly established a presence during the last 20 years of the nineteenth century (Sundin 1986, 77–101; Jonsson 2022). Even though the primary vegetarian organization, Svenska Vegetariska Föreningen (SVF, the Swedish Vegetarian Association), was not founded until 1903, several smaller organizations were active on a local level before that time. In addition, some influential figures were also publicly arguing for vegetarianism during the last decades of the nineteenth century. Among the most prominent of these figures were the engineer and writer J.O. Pettersson-Rydelius (1854–1898), who used the

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

279

pseudonym Justus, and the journalist and publicist Johan L.  Saxon (1859–1935), a reformer and magazine editor who would go on to be the founder of the SVF (Liander 1928, 7–11; Sundin 1986, 77–101; Jansson 2005, 212–258). In the early twentieth century, the SVF was a dynamic and active organization even though its membership numbers were moderate, reaching around a thousand before the First World War (Liander 1928, 18). The organization published a number of books and pamphlets as well as the journal Vegetarianen: De Nordiska vegetariska föreningarnas tidskrift (The Vegetarian: Journal of the Nordic Vegetarian Societies, active 1903–1967). Although a large part of the SVF’s activities consisted of spreading information and arguing their cause, the association also organized vegetarian cooking courses and lobbied for specific political goals, like lower tariffs on imported fruits. The SVF even sold products like “Saxon-crackers,” named after its chairman and founder. Swedish vegetarianism during the period was often seen as part of a “natural” lifestyle in a broader sense, including temperance, alternative medicine, and the avoidance of coffee, tea, and tobacco. Saxon argued that vegetarianism was a tool for creating a better humanity (Jansson 2005, 219). The belief that a vegetarian diet, mainly consisting of cereal, fruits, berries, and nuts, was the natural and original diet of humanity was repeatedly argued within the Swedish vegetarian movements (Sundin 1986, 90).3 Proponents of the movement, like Saxon and Halfdan Liander, Saxon’s successor as chairman of the SVF, used biological and sometimes even biblical arguments to support this position (Liander 1928, 5–6). The movement also highlighted ethical and health-­ related reasons for avoiding meat. Historian Marie Jonsson (2022) has argued that the Swedish vegetarian movement, like many similar reform movements during the period, evolved as a reaction to the perceived unnaturalness and unhealthiness of modern life. Jonsson suggests, however, that vegetarianism was simultaneously a product of trends that characterized modernity and shared many goals and forms of organization with other reform movements of the period. Throughout its history, Swedish vegetarianism was engaged in exchanging ideas with international proponents of vegetarianism, especially Anglo-­ Saxon and German writers. Vegetarianen regularly wrote about the ideas of John Harvey Kellogg (1852–1943) and, somewhat later, the German doctor and advocate for dietary reform Maximilian Bircher-Benner (1867–1939). During the First World War, SVF’s activities may have slowed somewhat (Ek 2021, 1–4). However, the organization remained

280 

J. NILSSON

the primary expression of a broad Swedish vegetarian movement in relation to which Theosophical vegetarianism was an undercurrent.

The Emergence of Theosophy in Sweden and the Nordic Countries The Theosophical Society was established in Sweden in 1889 (Sanner 1995; Lejon 1997; Petander 2016; Faxneld 2020). The movement expanded rapidly. Several local lodges were founded during the organization’s first decades, and Theosophy drew the attention of culturally and politically influential circles. Even though the major centers of the movement were, as one would suspect, located in the large cities of Stockholm and Gothenburg, there was an active Theosophical environment in the south of Sweden as well. Here Lund and Helsingborg were among the Swedish Theosophical Society’s largest lodges. Furthermore, as stated above, during the early years of Swedish Theosophy, the movement spread into minor towns and cities from Härnösand in the north to Landskrona in the south. Theosophy in the other Nordic countries developed with a strong influence from Sweden. Although the history of Nordic Theosophy and its organizational development is too complex to fully account for here, it can be briefly summarized as the story of how a movement heavily influenced by Swedish Theosophy gradually developed a stronger regional and national presence and autonomy (Dybdal 2016, 554–562; Granholm 2016, 563–569; Kraft 2016, 570–577). During most of its first two decades, Nordic Theosophy was organized mainly from Sweden under the Scandinavian Section of the Theosophical Society.4 Membership figures from 1895 show that the movement in Sweden had more members than Norway, Finland, and Denmark combined (Anonymous 1895, 60). Contact between the Nordic lodges seems to have been quite developed. Teosofisk Tidskrift printed accounts of activities in the Nordic countries and Finland and also published non-Swedish language articles. Even after the creation of separate national sections in the other Nordic countries, like Finland (1907), Norway (1913), and Denmark (1920), a certain amount of exchange of influence remained between the Nordic societies, at least for the first decades of the twentieth century (Granholm 2016, 566; Kraft 2016, 572; Dybdal 2016, 555).

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

281

Schisms within the international Theosophical movement influenced Swedish Theosophy, and in the late 1890s, the movement split into two separate organizations (Petander 2016; Sievers 2013, 68–73). One of these followed the society led by Annie Besant (1847–1933), with its headquarters in Adyar, India. The other belonged to the movement (eventually) led by Katherine Tingley (1847–1929), with its headquarters in Point Loma, USA. For simplicity’s sake, I will refer to them hereafter as the TS (Adyar) and the TS (Point Loma). Both movements are relevant in this context, even though the Adyar branch seems to have been more engaged with vegetarianism, or, at least, gave the subject more attention in print.

Abolishing the Diet of Predators: Vegetarianism Within the Swedish Theosophical Movement At a meeting of the Stockholm lodge of the Theosophical Society held on the 28th of May 1893, the writer and translator Victor Pfeiff addressed the assembled members (Pfeiff 1893, 193–203).5 The subject of his address was “the application of Theosophy to daily life,” and Pfeiff began by reminding his audience that some people criticized Theosophists for being unconcerned with practical life and their duties to society and humanity in general. These accusations were, unsurprisingly, denied by Pfeiff. In fact, he argued that Theosophists are, and should be, engaged with cultural and political questions relevant to their communities. Pfeiff went on to mention some of the contemporary political and cultural issues in which he felt that Theosophy had a role to play. Some of these are well-known in present-­day research on Theosophy. Pfeiff talked of universal suffrage and educational reform. He did, however, also passionately argue for the importance of vegetarianism. In the lecture, he laments that the question of vegetarianism is met with less enthusiasm in Sweden than it is elsewhere. Even so, it is “the undisputable duty of every Theosophist” to put vegetarianism on the agenda “by personal example,” as well as by “encouragement in speech and writing” and to work for the “abolishing of the eating of meat, [and] of the diet of predators” (afskaffandet af köttätandet, af rofdjursdiäten) (Pfeiff 1893, 199). He is aware, he claims, that he is expressing himself harshly, but there are many compelling reasons for avoiding meat. Although it was not the only subject dealt with in the lecture, Pfeiff provides a reasonably representative overview of how

282 

J. NILSSON

vegetarianism was treated in Theosophical sources. Some of his arguments for a vegetarian diet would not have been unfamiliar to the non-­ Theosophical vegetarian movement; Pfeiff mentions health reasons and animal cruelty inherent in the commercial meat industry. He does, however, also bring up some of the uniquely Theosophical reasons for vegetarianism, among them the supposedly spiritually destructive effects of meat. Referencing H.P. Blavatsky and her, at the time of Pfeiff’s lecture, recently translated work Nyckeln till teosofien (org The Key to Theosophy)6 he argues that the flesh of animals transmits some of the characteristics of animals into the personality of the meat-eater, creating a “brutalizing” (brutaliserande) and “animalizing” (animaliserande) effect. (This notion requires unpacking and careful contextualization, and I will return to the idea of animalization below.) Pfeiff’s appeal to The Key to Theosophy makes sense. The work would have been intimately familiar to his audience since it was the subject of regular lectures and discussions in Swedish Theosophical lodges during the 1890s. Blavatsky’s warnings about the dangers of meat were no deviation from the Theosophical position. During the decades before and after the turn of the century, the encouragement of vegetarianism as an ideal, if not a requirement, can be found in the works of many of the most prominent Theosophical writers (Kraft 2002). There is a general agreement that a vegetarian diet, or perhaps more precisely, the avoidance of meat, was an important part of spiritual development as the early Theosophical movement imagined it. The subject appears in passing in the works of Helena Blavatsky, Annie Besant, and Charles W.  Leadbeater, among others. Several writers also authored specific works, often short pamphlets, which dealt exclusively with the topic of vegetarianism, for example, Besant’s Vegetarianism in the Light of Theosophy (1894) and Leadbeater’s Vegetarianism and Occultism (1913). Furthermore, periodicals connected with the Theosophical society regularly wrote about dietary questions and published reviews of vegetarian books.7 During the same period, Swedish-­ speaking literature on the subject emerged. Some of the literature was translations of non-Swedish language works, most importantly Annie Besant’s Vegetarianism in the Light of Theosophy, translated as Vegetarismen i teosofiens ljus (1895), and Anna Kingsford’s The Perfect Way in Diet, translated as Den rätta dieten (1891). Although it is impossible to ascertain how common a vegetarian diet actually was among Swedish Theosophists during the period in question, we should be careful not to exaggerate the likely impact of Theosophical

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

283

ideological literature on the actual dietary habits of its members. Although not unheard of, following a vegetarian diet at the turn of the twentieth century was still considerably more complicated than today. Regardless of how widespread the practice actually was, we can at least be relatively certain that the idea of vegetarianism was widely accepted as an ideal. It is difficult to find examples of Theosophists arguing against the importance of avoiding meat. However, some instances of a pro-meat stance can be found in the broader international esoteric milieu. The positive portrayal of vegetarianism was not limited to specific works on the subject. When Vegetarismen i teosofiens ljus was published the enthusiastic reviewer in Teosofisk tidskrift exclaimed that no Theosophist should “neglect” to study its content (JFR, 155). Teosofisk tidskrift also regularly advertised vegetarian literature to its readers. Sadly, there is a distinct lack of Theosophical Swedish-language sources related to the practical selection and preparation of vegetarian foods. In order to get some sense of what kind of recipes could be used, we will have to glance at international sources. A good example is Practical Vegetarian Cookery (1897), edited by Constance Wachtmeister and Kate Buffington Davis. The book includes hundreds of recipes, from relishes to beverages. Here, we can find instructions for making white turnip, boiled cabbage, almond peach pie, and several desserts. The book is not vegan and relies quite heavily on eggs and cheese nor does it emphasize the austere and ascetical side of Theosophical vegetarianism that is sometimes present in the rhetoric. Perhaps surprisingly, the Asian flavor is minimal. Although “curry powder” is mentioned a handful of times and a recipe for “Chinese rice” is included, there is no real attempt to present exotic vegetarian recipes (Wachtmeister and Davis 1897). A wide array of arguments for the avoidance of meat are presented in Theosophical literature. Ethical and health-related considerations were given much attention, and the cruelty of the commercial meat industry, hunting, and vivisection were often harshly criticized (Åkerberg 1891, iv; Kingsford 1891, 71). Even if Theosophical publications expressed many of the same arguments against meat consumption that one would find in publications connected to the broader vegetarian movement, like the periodical Vegetarianen, they also emphasized arguments for vegetarianism that were explicitly connected to an esoteric or specifically Theosophical worldview and anthropology. One such argument proceeded from the Theosophical belief in the astral plane. According to several influential representatives of Theosophy,

284 

J. NILSSON

the astral plane consists of “subtle matter” which interpenetrates everything in the material world. Astral matter is susceptible to the mental activities of living things, and strong thoughts and emotions create astral currents, which especially “sensitive” individuals, or individuals who have undergone spiritual cultivation, are able to pick up (Besant 1895, 13–15). This means that, according to Theosophical teachings, there are no private emotions or experiences. Instead, feelings are always transmitted in one sense or another, and their influence reaches beyond the consciousness and sensations of separate individuals. In certain cases, dangerous affective contagions can be created in this way. A.F. Åkerberg (1891, v) argues, for example, that everything in nature receives the impressions of things that happen in their proximity. This makes the slaughter of animals and the eating of meat polluting activities. “Certainly,” he writes, “every fiber of a beefsteak retains some impression of that murder scene which is its reason for existing, and of the anxiety of the animal at the moment of death, an impression transferred to the unconscious spirit of the eater” (Åkerberg 1891, v).8 In Vegetarismen i teosofiens ljus, this argument is carried even further. “Anxiety, fear and dread” are spread through the astral plane by the large-scale slaughter of animals. Sensitive individuals can feel this on a conscious level when they approach areas where slaughterhouses are located. However, these negative emotions affect even those who are unaware of their influence. In fact, these astral influences can make people “crude” and “cruel”. “It is not only the body which is polluted by the blood of animals” (Besant 1895, 18).9 Some of the aspects of Theosophical vegetarianism merit a deeper discussion. Hence, we will now turn our attention to the relationship between vegetarianism, Asia, and theosophical views of the body, especially its esoteric anthropology.

Not a Hunter but a Gardener: Theosophical Vegetarianism as Eastern Wisdom and Spiritual Cultivation It is now widely accepted that The Theosophical movement, which emerged in the late nineteenth century, served as an important context through which beliefs, practices, and social networks associated with Asian religion were disseminated in Europe during the early twentieth century (Chajes and Huss 2016; Rudbøg and Sand 2020; Krämer and Strube 2020). In this case, however, we are not dealing with the cultural transfer

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

285

of specific doctrines or practices. Although some indirect influence may be likely, no specific beliefs held by Swedish Theosophists in relation to vegetarianism are uniquely traceable to an Asian context. There are no identifiable cooking practices or recipes, nor any way of thinking or talking about vegetarianism, that is clearly traceable to any identifiable Buddhist or Hindu source. Nor is vegetarianism explicitly identified as a part of a tradition of ancient wisdom claimed to have been inherited from pre-­ historic times through specific lines of succession preserved by adepts throughout history. Such historical constructions, called ancient wisdom narratives by the historian of ideas Garry W. Trompf, were otherwise common in relation to other expressions of Theosophical lore (Trompf 1998; Nilsson 2020). We are, however, still dealing with a type of historical construction. In the case of Swedish Theosophical vegetarianism, it takes the form of the retrospective identification of what Olav Hammer has called positive significant others, that is to say, authoritative role models to which a certain teaching or practice is (correctly or incorrectly) ascribed (Hammer 2004, 98). In this way, these significant others serve to support specific interpretations of these teachings or practices as well as giving them a certain amount of authority drawn from the figures in question, often important historical characters. In the Theosophical vegetarian literature, India and Indian religious figures appear prominently. An important example of a positive significant other in this context is Buddha. Den rätta dieten begins with a several pages long quote from Edwin Arnold’s The Light of Asia (translated into Swedish by none other than Victor Pfeiff).10 The quote tells a story of how Buddha convinces king Bimbisara of the Magadha kingdom to ban the killing of animals by appealing to the ideal of friendship between all living things. “And from that time peace has reigned upon these banks of the Ganges…” (Kingsford 1891, 6). Buddha turns up again in Vegetarismen såsom lifsåskådning a short book consisting of short biographies of influential vegetarians, where his teaching of compassion with all living things and his “condemnation of meat-eating” are emphasized (Williams and Pfeiff 1900, 34–41). While Buddha is the South Asian religious figure most prominently lauded in these texts, several religions and religious groups are highlighted as well, among them Buddhists in general, Hindus and yogis. The ancient nature of Hindu vegetarianism is used to argue for the eating of meat as a consequence of cultural “decay” (Kingsford 1891, 26). The “yogis,” on the other hand, are given as an example of the harmonious relationship between humans and animals that would be within our reach if it were not

286 

J. NILSSON

for the distrust created by hunting and meat-eating. They radiate so much love and compassion, argues Besant, that even tigers come to lay at their feet like cats (Besant 1895, 13–15). The phenomenon of vegetarianism is not only an illustrative example of Theosophy’s relationship to Asian religions, however. Among the specifically Theosophical arguments for vegetarianism, the notion of what I will call animalization is especially noteworthy since it offers insight into Theosophical conceptions of personhood, spiritual cultivation, and social transformation. According to the fundamentally hierarchical Theosophical concept of esoteric anthropology, each individual has a lower and a higher nature, from which lower and higher impulses emanate. It is important to realize how integrated the question of human nature and esoteric anthropology was to the worldview, practices and political and cultural preoccupations of Theosophy. Knowledge of esoteric anthropology was one of the key elements of the universal ancient wisdom that the movement sought behind the exoteric, surface meaning of the sacred scriptures of the world. It was deeply intertwined with the subject of evolution, which simultaneously explained how and why the present configuration of esoteric anthropology had once developed (Kraft 1999, 81–107). Spiritual cultivation, furthermore, was viewed through the lens of esoteric anthropology, which, in some ways, even legitimated the cultural and political preoccupations of the movement, often understood as collective expressions of spiritual cultivation. In Theosophical works, human nature is often described as seven-fold. In the sources most relevant here, however, a simplified dual model of esoteric anthropology is often used, consisting primarily of a lower and a higher nature (or self) (e.g. Blavatsky 1889, 90–93). This concept was regularly referred to in Swedish Theosophical publications and lectures meant for both public and internal audiences. In October 1902, for example, a public discussion of Theosophy was held at the lodge in the city of Karlshamn where a representative of the lodge claimed that “teachings concerning the lower and higher self are a part of the Wisdom religion which has existed throughout the ages” (G…n 1902, 191). A couple of years earlier, representative of the local lodge in Helsingborg had answered a question about the nature of nirvana by stating that nirvana entailed the destruction of the lower nature of an individual (Anonymous 1900, 184). In an article about self-control and esoteric “discipleship” (lärjungeskap) published in Teosofisk tidskrift, the author, one Frida von Betzen, argues that a serious student of esoteric teachings must “subdue the lower self”

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

287

(von Betzen 1894, 234). This idea was not only expressed en passant. Teosofisk tidskrift also published articles with titles like Det lägre jagets dödande (Killing the lower self), where the nature of the destruction or control of the lower self was discussed in detail. Although these ideas were likely interpreted very differently by individual members of the Theosophical Society, it should be noted that according to the key works of Theosophy, these concepts are not to be understood metaphorically. Humanity’s lower nature has a concrete, if partly subtle and spiritual, existence, and its influence has very real consequences for the individual lives, social organization, biological evolution, and spiritual future of humanity. In Swedish Theosophical literature, the lower self was primarily associated with a number of characteristics, traits, and impulses thought to impair spiritual development. Selfishness was one such characteristic, but the lower self was also believed to manifest through aggression, greed, and sexual desire (e.g., see Ljungström 1895, 129–134; “En raja yoga-gosse” 1905, 70–71). The lower nature was problematic for several reasons. It was (obviously) thought to negatively impact interpersonal relationships and human social organization. Aggression, greed, and sexual desires were, at least in some Theosophical writings, connected to some of the most severe problems believed to be plaguing humanity, like war, poverty, and prostitution. Given enough influence on a cultural level, it could potentially disturb the flow of evolution and retard or even subvert the biospiritual forces of progress. Blavatsky’s writings contain several cautionary tales of biological degeneration, often connected to collective failures of sexual restraint.11 On the individual level, however, the lower nature needed to be restrained because it obscured the influences from the higher self. If the spiritual nature in each person was to be able to serve as the true teacher that it was believed to be, its voice could not be drowned out by the disturbing chatter of the lower nature. But how was this to be accomplished? The Theosophical movement came up with some quite elaborate answers to this question. One of these was the “raja yoga” system of education, much promoted by the Point Loma branch of Swedish Theosophy. Raja yoga education was regularly described as promoting “freedom from the lower self” (A.T.S 1900, 147) and victory over desire (G.K. 1904, 206; Lärjunge 1904, 46). Victor Pfeiff’s comments on the brutalizing and animalizing effects of eating meat must be understood in the context of the lower nature and its functions according to Theosophical anthropology (Pfeiff 1893).12 According to Vegetarismen i teosofiens ljus, eating meat hinders the

288 

J. NILSSON

development of the higher self and makes it harder to subdue the “passions of the body” (kroppens passioner) (Besant 1895, 26). Meat stimulates “passions and instincts belonging to the lower animals” which emanates from the lower nature of each individual to which the soul is chained. In fact, several of the specific impulses connected to the lower self are being stimulated by meat. This is the case with aggression, sexual desire, and even the desire for alcohol. Meat causes aggression, which is a contributing reason for the violence of predatory animals and, conversely, the relative mildness of grass-eaters (Kingsford 1891, 60). Furthermore, “the irritation of nerve-centers caused by the persistent consumption of a highly nitrogenous, stimulating diet […] necessarily exhorts a powerful influence on the genital functions and induces a state of excessive desire” (Kingsford 1891, 65).13 A reduction in the consumption of meat would, according to Anna Kingsford, be an efficient tool for reducing prostitution (Kingsford 1891, 66). Meat consumption was also commonly understood as leading to complicity in what was seen by many early Theosophists as another of societies’ great evils, the use of alcohol (Pfeiff 1893, 199; Besant 1895, 28). There were several parallel explanations for this, perhaps not altogether obvious, assertion. Since meat was seen as a stimulant, its effects were seen as mirroring the effects of alcohol and thus were thought to create a need for similar experiences in the meat-eater. To use a slightly later expression, meat was seen as a gateway drug to alcohol (see Kingsford 1891, 62). So, what are we to make of all this? Kraft may be right to point out that Theosophical vegetarianism can be understood as an attempt to (re-) establish boundaries between humanity and the animal kingdom that had been seriously undermined by Darwinism and its cultural consequences (Kraft 2002). Expanding on this observation, it is interesting to note the apparent contradiction between the Theosophical effort to protect animals from human cruelty and the undeniable fact that the concept of the animal has seriously negative associations in Theosophical writings, where it suggests all the undesirable characteristics associated with the lower (or animal) nature, referred to above. Instead of idealizing animals as pure and innocent, early Theosophical writers tended to regard the idea of the animal with a certain amount of suspicion. A consequence of Theosophical notions of evolution was that animals also represented lower states of evolutionary development into which humanity could fall back if, somehow, civilization was mismanaged. Animals are, then, not only our younger siblings whom we should respect since they will one day be like us but a

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

289

reminder of what we ourselves could become if we do not exercise the proper form of benevolent discipline. As Benjamin Zeller has pointed out, foodways are about boundary-making and identity (Zeller 2015). This observation, of course, works on another level as well. There is no doubt that vegetarianism helped in the construction of a Theosophical identity associated with things like self-control, progressive values and, perhaps, a little flavoring of Asian exotic that could be contrasted with the great majority of meat-eating Swedes. Forging a religious identity, “has much to do with what people eat or avoid eating,” to quote Harvey (2015, 32). The Theosophical focus on Buddhism and non-conventional forms of Christianity may have limited their influence in a society that was still completely dominated by the Swedish state church. Nonetheless, the Theosophical understanding of personhood and the nature of emotion also offered some specific and potentially powerful arguments for vegetarianism. It seems likely that the descriptions of the anxiety of dying animals as objective and destructive energies recurring in Theosophical writings may have been emotionally effective arguments even for people who did not accept the esoteric belief in the astral plane. The Theosophical ambition to control or starve the inner animal may in itself be a clue as to the appeal of Theosophical self-control in the cultural context of the period. In fact, the ascetic leanings of Theosophy were hardly unique, even though the specific style of discipline promoted by the movement may have been so. Significant parallels can be observed in many different contexts, from the argument of non-Theosophical vegetarianism at the time to nudism and the interest in physical culture that had emerged in Europe during the nineteenth century and spread globally (Ross 2005; Singleton 2010, 81–94). It was not uncommon for reform movements to take an interest in bodily discipline as a point of departure for more far-­ reaching and collective political projects. The message that mastery of the body through a disciplined vegetarian diet was the first step to broader social reform was a message shared by perhaps the most famous Swedish proponent of vegetarianism Johan L.  Saxon (see, for example, Sundin 1986, 77). In the Theosophical movement, these ideas were woven into a complex story of human and cosmic evolution and were (to some extent) provided with a romantic “Eastern” pedigree.

290 

J. NILSSON

Theory Is Practice: Reflections on Lived Theosophy As we have seen, Victor Pfeiff exhorted members of the Stockholm lodge of the Theosophical Society (and later on, readers of Teosofisk tidskrift) to let their Theosophy impact their daily life. He reminded them that Theosophy has “a practical side” (en praktisk sida) and emphasized social engagement (in family, state, and church) and political activism (in causes related to suffrage, education, and vegetarianism). A Theosophist, according to Pfeiff, should encourage others to do the right thing “in speech and writing” and by “personal example” (Pfeiff 1893, 193–203). Pfeiff was not alone in this belief; similar ideas are common in Teosofisk tidskrift and other Theosophical publications. Another example is a lecture by one fru Scholander (likely Carin Scholander) entitled Teosofi i det dagliga lifvet (Theosophy in daily life), based on an article by F.A. Brodie-Innes. Here, Scholander argues that Theosophy should be applied to “all the little details of daily life” (det dagliga lifvets alla små enskildheter), by self-­ sacrifice in social relations through the care of “oneself” and  of “loved ones.” This is the true arena of ascetism, a victory over “evil thoughts” and “selfish desires” expressed in intimate social relations (Brodie-Innes 1891, 259–265). It is easy to see how vegetarianism could fit with these ideals of Theosophical practice in daily life. It could be seen as a victory over selfish desires; it could be practiced within the family; it served as a personal example and an ideal that others could be encouraged to share and participate in, and, if Theosophical notions of meat-eating were accepted, it carried the potential to transform society. Indeed, it expresses Theosophical ideals very well. Furthermore, if we, like Graham Harvey, were to turn the implicit values in that statement around, it was a component of Theosophy around which beliefs and teachings were easily constructed (Harvey 2015). However, there seems to be a danger in replacing a one-sided emphasis on belief and teachings with a rigid distinction between theory and practice. Indeed, the activities of theosophical lodges imply that from the perspective of lived Theosophy, theory is practice. Debating, lecturing, listening, reading, and sometimes writing were everyday (for some people, perhaps even daily) practices of Theosophy, not just for an elite but for most members. Thus debating, constructing arguments for, and encouraging others to participate in vegetarianism were lived practices just as much as buying, cooking, and eating cabbages and turnips.

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

291

Implications for the Study of Eastern Practices in the Nordic Countries The Theosophical Society was established in Sweden in 1889, founding several lodges throughout the country during its first decades of activity. The movement generally focused on the doctrinal and philosophical dimensions of spirituality, and much of the society’s activities consisted of the production and consumption of texts, with publishing and lecturing, reading and writing. This, however, did not preclude other forms of everyday practices. One area where this was clearly revealed is in the Theosophical preoccupation with vegetarianism. Theosophical publications expressed many of the same arguments against meat consumption that one would find in publications connected to the broader vegetarian movement, such as health issues and ethical considerations. However, Theosophists also emphasized arguments for vegetarianism that were explicitly connected to an esoteric or specifically Theosophical worldview and anthropology. Prominent among such arguments was the linking of vegetarianism to certain authoritative precursors connected to South Asian religions like Buddhism and Hinduism. Furthermore, the importance of vegetarianism was explained with references to Theosophical notions of esoteric anthropology, specifically the concept of the lower nature. The lower nature was primarily associated with a number of characteristics, traits, and impulses thought to impair spiritual development. Impulses proceeding from the lower nature, like aggression and sexual desire, were thought to be strengthened by meat consumption. Uncontrolled, these impulses were connected to social problems like war, crime, and prostitution. Avoiding meat would, therefore, not only aid the spiritual development of individual Theosophists but could assist in the transformation of society. Research on the international Theosophical movement (Chajes and Huss 2016; Rudbøg and Sand 2020; Krämer and Strube 2020) shows that during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, it constituted one of the most significant contexts through which beliefs, practices, and social networks with historical roots in Asia were established in Europe. There are no compelling reasons to believe that this was not the case in the Nordic countries as well. Still, with some minor exceptions, the subject has remained underexplored. More research needs to be carried out on the influence of the Theosophical Society and similar movements on the construction of notions of Eastern Wisdom as well as the spread of

292 

J. NILSSON

ideas and practices with historical roots in Asia during this period. As this chapter suggests, the study of esoteric movements like Theosophy can gain much from an extended focus on the intersections where religion, spirituality, politics, and everyday practices, like diet, overlap. Here the lessons of lived religion will likely be helpful for future scholarship.

Notes 1. Siv-Ellen Kraft has carried out some earlier research on Theosophical vegetarianism. However, her focus has been restricted to English language Theosophical sources and focused on Theosophical feminist writers like Margaret Cousins (Kraft 2002). 2. This means they were positively reviewed or advertised under the heading “Theosophical literature” in Teosofisk tidskrift. Almost all of these works were written by Theosophists. 3. Vegetarianism is defined in the original statutes of the SVF as the avoidance of all sustenance that derives from dead animals (Liander 1928, 17). 4. The Scandinavian section included Swedish-speaking members in Finland (Granholm 2016, 564). For a more detailed overview of the changes in organizational structure, see Petander (2016). 5. The lecture was later printed in the October number of Teosofisk tidskrift. 6. Originally published in 1889. 7. Some examples include Dorothy Martinez (1914) “The Chemical Argument for Vegetarianism” in The American Theosophist; Anonymous (1894) “Vegetarianism: Need for vegetarian restaurant in Toronto” in The Lamp; Ernest Horrwitz (1897) “The Metaphysics of Vegetarianism” in Lucifer. 8. “Säkerligen behåller ock hvarje fiber af en biffstek något intryck af den mordscen, som är dess förutsättning, och af det slaktade djurets dödsångest, ett intryck som öfverföres på det omedvetna själslifvet hos den ätande” (Åkerberg 1891, v). 9. “Det är icke blott kroppen som besudlas af djurens blod”. 10. The book was titled Asien ljus and published by Bonniers in 1888. 11. One example is the notion of “the fall” in relationship to the third root race, see the discussion in Kraft (1999, 83–86). 12. The fact that many Theosophists saw a connection between meat-eating and what they viewed as other expressions of the lower self, like sexual desire, has been pointed out by Siv-Ellen Kraft (2002). 13. “…den retning af nervcentra, som uppkommer genom det beständiga bruket af en starkt kväfvehaltig, stimulerande föda, tillika måste utöfva ett mäktigt inflytande på de genitala funktionerna och framkalla ett tillstånd af omåttlig trängtan” (Kingsford 1891, 65).

  STARVING THE ANIMAL WITHIN: VEGETARIANISM AS SPIRITUAL… 

293

References Åkerberg, A.F. 1891. Förord. In Den rätta dieten: en afhandling om människans naturenliga föda, ed. Anna Kingsford. Stockholm: V. Härnkvists förlag. Anonymous. 1894. Vegetarianism: Need for Vegetarian Restaurant in Toronto. The Lamp 1: 12. ———. 1895. Den teosofiska rörelsen. Teosofisk tidskrift 2: 61–64. Anonymous. 1900. Från de svenska logerna. Theosophia 4: 183–184. A.T.S. 1900. Point Loma. Theosophia 9: 146–151. Besant, Annie. 1895. Vegetarismen i teosofiens ljus. Stockholm: Central-tryckeriet. Blavatsky, Helena P. 1889. The Key to Theosophy. London: The Theosophical Publishing Company. Brodie-Innes. 1891. Teosofi i det dagliga lifvet. Teosofisk tidskrift 1: 259–265. Chajes, Julie, and Boaz Huss. 2016. Theosophical Appropriations. Beer Sheva: Ben-­ Gurion University of the Negev Press. Dybdal, René. 2016. Theosophy in Denmark. In Western Esotericism in Scandinavia, ed. Henrik Bogdan and Olav Hammer, 554–562. Leiden: Brill. Ek, Theresia. 2021. SVF:s historia. Svenska Vegetariska Föreningen. www.vegetarianen.se. Accessed 10 Dec 2021. En raja yoga-gosse. 1905. Själfbehärskning. Theosophia 3: 70–71. Faxneld, Per. 2020. Det ockulta sekelskiftet. Stockholm: Volante. G…n. 1902. Från de svenska logerna. Theosophia 12: 191–196. G.K. 1904. Hvad är Raja Yoga-skolans syfte och ändamål. Theosophia 9: 205–206. Granholm, Kennet. 2016. Theosophy in Finland. In Western Esotericism in Scandinavia, ed. Henrik Bogdan and Olav Hammer, 563–569. Leiden: Brill. Hammer, Olav. 2004. Claiming Knowledge: Strategies of Epistemology from Theosophy to the New Age. Leiden: Brill. Harvey, Graham. 2015. Respectfully eating or not eating. Scripta Instituti Donneriani Aboensis 26: 32–46. Horrwitz, Ernest. 1897. The Metaphysics of Vegetarianism. Lucifer 4: 143. J.F.R. 1895. Litteraturanmälan  – Vegetarismen i teosofiens ljus. Teosofisk tidskrift 5: 155. Jansson, Sven-Bertil. 2005. Den uppkäftige såningsmannen. Stockholm: Hjalmarson and Högberg. Jonsson, Marie. 2022. Vad vilja vegetarianerna?: En undersökning av den svenska vegetarismen 1900–1935. Huddinge: Södertörns högskola. Kingsford, Anna. 1891. Den rätta dieten: en afhandling om människans naturenliga föda. Stockholm: V. Härnkvists förlag. Kraft, Siv Ellen. 1999. The Sex Problem: Political Aspects of Gender Discourse in the Theosophical Society, 1875–1930. Bergen: Department of the History of Religions. ———. 2002. Kjøtt og kjønn. Vegetarianisme i den tidlige teosofien. Chaos. Dansk-Norsk Tidsskrift for religionshistoriske studier 38: 41–55.

294 

J. NILSSON

———. 2016. Theosophy in Norway. In Western Esotericism in Scandinavia, ed. Henrik Bogdan and Olav Hammer, 570–577. Leiden: Brill. Krämer, Hans Martin, and Julian Strube. 2020. Theosophy Across Boundaries. Albany: SUNY Press. Lärjunge. 1904. Katherine Tingley och hennes verksamhet. Theosophia 2: 40–43. Leadbeater, Charles Webster. 1927 [1913]. Vegetarianism and Occultism. Chicago: Theosophical Press. Lejon, Håkan. 1997. Historien om den antroposofiska humanismen. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International. Liander, Halfdan G. 1928. Vegetarismen i Sverige. Stockholm: Svenska Vegetariska Föreningen. Ljungström, Georg. 1895. Det lägre jagets dödande. Teosofisk tidskrift 5: 129–134. Martinez, Dorothy. 1914. The Chemical Argument for Vegetarianism. The American Theosophist 1: 65. Nilsson, Johan. 2020. As a Fire Beneath the Ashes: The Quest for Chinese Wisdom Within Occultism, 1850–1949. PhD Dissertation, Lund University. Petander, Einar. 2016. Theosophy in Sweden. In Western Esotericism in Scandinavia, ed. Henrik Bogdan and Olav Hammer, 578–586. Leiden: Brill. Pfeiff, Victor. 1893. Teosofiens tillämpning på det dagliga lifvet. Teosofisk tidskrift 7: 193–203. Ross, Chad. 2005. Naked Germany: Health, Race and the Nation. Oxford: Berg. Rudbøg, Tim, and Erik Sand. 2020. Imagining the East. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sanner, Inga. 1995. Att älska sin nästa såsom sig själv. Stockholm: Carlsson. Sievers, Martin. 2013. Purpurkvinnan: historien om Katherine Tingley och teosoferna på Visingsö. Huskvarna: Martin Sievers. Singleton, Mark. 2010. Yoga Body: The Origins of Modern Posture Practice. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sundin, Bosse. 1986. Vägen till idealtillvaron: Saxon och vegetarismen. In I framtidens tjänst: Ur folkhemmets idéhistoria, ed. Ronny Ambjörnsson, 77–101. Malmö: Gidlunds. Trompf, Garry W. 1998. Macrohistory in Blavatsky, Steiner and Guénon. In Western Esotericism and the Science of Religion, ed. Antoine Faivre and Wouter J. Hanegraaff, 269–296. Leuven: Peeters. von Betzen, Frida. 1894. Om vägen till lärjungeskap eller själfstudium och själfbehärskning. Teosofisk tidskrift 11: 233–242. Wachtmeister, Constance, and Kate Buffington Davis. 1897. Practical Vegetarian Cookery. London: Theosophical Publishing Co. Williams, Howard, and Victor Pfeiff. 1900. Vegetarismen såsom livsåskådning hos några dess förnämsta förkämpar. Stockholm: G. Walfrid Wilhelmsson. Zeller, Benjamin. 2015. Totem and Taboo in the Grocery Store. Quasi-Religious Foodways in North America. Scripta Instituti Donneriani Aboensis 26: 11–31.

Index1

A Aagaard, Johannes, 225 Aarhus, 21n1, 73, 76–84, 86, 87, 88n7, 214 Aaslid, Rune, 234, 240, 252n4 Abram, David, 270 Academic Meditation Society (AMS), 119, 236, 241, 252n1, 253n5 Acem, 12, 18, 119, 120, 132, 231–252 Acupoints, 146 Acupuncture, 1, 3, 153 Advaita modern Advaita (see Modern Advaita) Modern Universalist Advaita, 56 Neo-Advaita, 52, 54 Non-Traditional Modern Advaita (see Neo-Advaita) radical monism, 52 Traditional Modern Advaita, 54

Adyar, 281 Aesthetic attention, 260 Aestheticization, 46 Affective dramaturgy, 30, 39, 43, 46 Afterlife, see Rebirth Aikido Shodokan, 171, 178 Tendoryu Akido, 177 Yoshinkan, 171, 178 Aikido clubs Aiki Shuren Club, 175 Budokwai Club, 175 Copenhagen Aikikai, 177 Göteborgs aikidoklubb, 175 Hombu Dojo, 171, 172, 176, 178 Iyasaka Aikido Club, 175 Sunyata Aikido Dojo, 174 Tromsø Aikidoklubb, 178 Turku Aikikai, 175

 Note: Page numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes.

1

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2023 D. Enstedt, K. Plank (eds.), Eastern Practices and Nordic Bodies, Palgrave Studies in New Religions and Alternative Spiritualities, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-38118-8

295

296 

INDEX

Aikikai Aikido World Headquarters, 171 Aikikai Foundation, 171 International Aikido Federation (I.A.F), 171, 178 Aikikan Norway, 178 Åkerberg, Axel Frithiof, 283, 284, 292n8 Alcohol, 128, 154, 288 Aldenklint, Urban, 174, 175, 177, 180, 181, 183, 184 Alternative medicine, 2, 279 Ancient wisdom narratives, 285 Andresen, Ina, 234 Angelsen, Bjørn, 234 Anglican Church, 218 Ängsbacka, see Centers Animalization, 282, 286 Animism, 270 Anthropocene, 195 Anthropocentrism, 268, 270 Areopagos, 225 Arnold, Edwin, 285 Art of Living (AoL), 15, 117–135 Ā sana/s, 76, 86, 121 Ashtanga yoga, see Yoga Association of Nature and Forest Therapy Guides and Programs (ANFT), 259, 263 Åstrand, Sven, 219 Autopathographies, 153 Awareness, 51, 57, 59–62, 80, 102, 121, 123, 132, 175, 197, 245, 261, 270 Ayurveda, 1, 3, 120, 201 B Bangalore, 120 Baravara, see Centers Bauer, Herdis, 234

Beatles, the, 119, 239 Bengtsson, Pelle, 218 Bergsten, Göte, 218 Besant, Annie, 281, 282, 284, 286, 288 Bexell, Monica, 218 Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, see Osho Bhakti, 93, 96 Bible studies Alpha groups, 217, 220 Lectio Divina, 217, 220 Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy, 33 Bircher-Benner, Maximilian, 279 Blavatsky, Helena Petrovna, 282, 286, 287 Bodily discipline, 207n1, 289 Body/bodies healthy body, 79, 122 male, 102 physical body, 145, 249 trans-gender, 102 watery bodies, 195, 202–206 Body pedagogics, 192, 196–197, 204 Bowing, 179–181, 186 Brahmananda Saraswati, Swami, 124 Branding, 224 Breathing techniques, see Sudarshan kriya (SKY breath) Buddha, 31, 36, 285 Buddhafield, 33, 36, 147 Buddhism, 3, 160n7, 195, 289, 291 esoteric, 170, 185 Budo, 167 Bukh, Niels, 75, 76, 87 Burnout, 262 C Cacao ceremonies, 99 Castaneda, Carlos, 167

 INDEX 

Catholicism Cistercian order, 246 Celebrity legitimation, 129 Centers, 13, 29–37, 45, 55, 67n4, 72, 73, 76, 77, 80, 82–84, 87, 144, 148, 178, 186, 198, 199, 218, 219, 231, 239, 280 Centers in Nordic Countries Ängsbacka, 33 Baravara, 33 Copenhagen Aikido Club, 175 Dharma Mountain, 45 Grünerløkka flerbrukshus, 120 Liberiet, 218 Meditationsgården, 218 Mevlana Garden, 35, 36 Oshofors, 33 Osho Risk, 33 Rättvik, 219 St. Davidsgården, 218 Sigtuna Foundation’s Refugium, 219 Chakras, 76 Chandra Mohan Jain, see Osho Charisma, 46, 118, 124, 149 China, 12, 142, 143, 149, 157, 159n3, 225 Church membership Denmark, 5, 215 Finland, 6, 194, 215 Norway, 5, 215 Sweden, 5, 215 Church of Denmark Danish church, 72, 215 Danish Folkekirke, 76, 77, 84, 86, 88n6 Church of Sweden, 6, 13, 18, 211–225 Church service, 39, 216, 217, 225 Clausen, Mia, 82, 83, 89n15 Clifford, M. Amos, 263

297

Communication groups, 236–239, 242, 244, 247, 251 Communitas, 149, 150 Confucianism, 144 Consciousness, 61, 100, 118, 119, 121, 126, 135n2, 145, 212, 238, 240, 284 Corporate culture, 269 Counter-cultural movements, 194 Covid-19, 97, 98, 128, 174, 185, 261 Crossover practice, 3, 4 Cultural appropriation, 14, 71–87, 97, 107 Cultural hybridization, 168 D Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu, 168, 170 Dalai Lama, 246, 247 Dalarna, 21n1, 33, 214 Dance Dreiva, 238, 239 sacred dances, 213, 219, 220 Danish Aikido Federation, 177 Danish church, see Church of Denmark Danish Gymnastics and Sports Association (DGI), 81, 82 Daoism, 3, 144, 160n7, 166 De-Christianization, 6 Deep ecology, 263–264 Denmark, 5, 7, 12, 14, 16, 21n1, 30, 33, 34, 55, 71, 73–75, 78, 81, 82, 88n6, 131, 169, 174–178, 185, 199, 214, 215, 224, 225, 280 Devotion, 44, 62–65, 95, 99, 110 Dharma Mountain, see Centers Diocese of Stockholm, 18, 213, 215

298 

INDEX

Disease, 2, 76, 122, 150–154, 156, 193 Dojo, 16, 171–173, 176, 178–184, 186 Dong-Yue Su, 142, 146, 149–151, 153–155, 157–159 Draeger, Donn F., 167, 168 Dualism, 3, 144, 268 E Easternisation, 3 Eastward journeys, 4 Eclecticism, 4, 16, 95, 157, 168 Ecopsychology, 263, 264 See also Deep ecology Eco-spiritual communes, 97 Ecstasy, 102, 103 Ecumenism, 218 Embodiment, 3, 17, 19, 20, 82, 87, 96, 192, 193, 195, 197, 201–204, 207, 257–271 Emotional regime, 41, 149 Emotions, 15, 20, 30, 31, 38–41, 43, 46, 59, 60, 65, 66, 93–111, 121, 122, 124, 126, 130, 131, 147, 244, 269, 284, 289 Emoto, Masaru, 205 Endo, Seishiro, 175 Energy, 16, 36, 76, 80, 83, 100–105, 108, 130, 169, 171, 289 Enköping, 21n1, 214 Enlightenment, 31, 34, 35, 42, 127, 194 Enneagram, 12, 219 Entrepreneurship, 173, 269 Esalen Institute, 31 Esoteric anthropology, 284, 286, 291

Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland, 6, 194 Exercise, 40, 58, 76, 79, 80, 82, 83, 86, 99, 100, 109, 130, 142, 146–148, 151, 153, 155, 159n4, 166, 173, 179, 202–204, 217, 224, 244, 248, 249, 260, 265, 268, 289 Experiential legitimation, 118, 129–131 F Fagerhaug, Ruth, 234 Feminist theology, 219 Feng shui, 3 Fenichel, Otto, 243 Findhorn, 219 Finland, 5, 7, 12, 14–17, 21n1, 33, 93, 94, 96–98, 111, 147, 169, 174–178, 180, 181, 183, 185, 191–195, 197–200, 206, 214, 215, 225, 280, 292n4 Finland Aikikai, 177, 178 Finnish Olympic Committee, 178 Fitness, 72, 77, 79, 81, 84, 86, 169, 170 Fitness DK, 81, 83, 86, 87 Fitness World Aarhus, 80 Floating signifier, 72 Folk church/es, 215, 216, 224 Food/food habits, 3, 20, 149, 154, 220, 221, 277, 283 Foodways, 277, 289 Forest bathing, 12, 18, 19, 37, 45, 257–271, 271n1, 271n3 See also Shinrin-yoku Forest therapy (shinrin-ryoho), 259, 263, 267 Freud, Sigmund, 241

 INDEX 

G Gangaji, 34, 35 Gauḍiya Vaiṣṇava, 96 Gjems-Onstad, Ole, 234, 247 God, 8, 11, 20, 43, 44, 85, 93, 94, 96, 100, 110, 171, 212, 216, 223, 224, 240 Gong fu (ability), 142, 145, 149, 153, 158, 159 Gothenburg, 176, 177, 280 Gozo Shioda, 171 Gran Canaria, 242 Green ideologies, 19, 258 Grøndahl, Carl Henrik, 234, 236, 242, 248, 251 Grundtvig, N. F. S., 76, 87, 88n6 Gurdjieff movements, 31 Guru-shishya, 124 Gyms, 11, 20, 179, 225 H Habitus, 10, 14, 51–67, 196 Hado training, 205 Halén, Mouliko, 174, 175, 180–182, 184 Hammar, KG, 212 Happiness course (Meditation and Breath Workshop), 121 Härnösand, 280 Hasselknippe, Kirsten, 234 Hatha yoga, 75, 80 Healing, 2, 4, 8, 10, 15, 17, 21, 99, 100, 109, 141–159, 191–207, 218, 223, 267 Healing narratives, 153, 156 Health, 2, 4, 11, 15, 16, 19, 20, 72, 75, 78, 80, 82, 86, 99, 117, 118, 122, 124–126, 128–132, 142, 143, 146, 150, 152, 153,

299

155–157, 180, 197, 199, 214, 215, 219, 221, 222, 225, 226n4, 257, 259, 261, 264, 279, 282, 283, 291 Health benefits, 76, 133, 258, 269, 271 Healthcare, 1, 5, 20, 152, 154, 199, 201, 225, 260, 269 Healthification, 94 Helsingborg, 280, 286 Hersoug, Tor, 234, 240, 244 Higher self, 11, 286–288 Hiljanen tilä (Quite Space), 225 Hin, Ooi Kean, 143, 144 Hiroaki Kobayashi, 175 Hof, Hans, 218, 226n3, 247 Holen, Are, 119, 231–233, 236, 237, 239–241, 243, 245, 247, 252, 252n1 Holistic health practices, 262 Holistic spirituality, see Spirituality, holistic spirituality Home styling, 3 Hørlyck, Nicolaj Stubbe, 85 Huaxia Zhineng Qigong Clinic & Training Centre, 144 Humanistic psychology, 31, 218 Human Potential Movement (HPM), 31, 33, 34 Hunyan qi, 144 materialistic monism, 144 Hybrid cultural formation, 185 Hypnosis, 241 I Iceland, 5, 13, 33, 174 Ichimura, Toshikazu, 174–178, 182, 185 Icon painting, 217, 219, 220

300 

INDEX

Igarashi, Kazuo, 175, 177, 178 Ignatian exercises, 217, 218 India, 7, 12, 15, 29–31, 53–56, 60, 63, 75, 84, 93, 96, 117, 118, 120, 125, 127, 135n2, 201, 236, 239, 246, 247, 281, 285 Indian philosophy, 53, 246 Individualism, 11, 95, 134, 168 Inner peace, 79, 80, 101 Inner self, 95, 97, 100, 110, 124, 129 Interconnectedness, 64–66, 95 International Forest Therapy Days (IFTD), 267 Iyengar, 71, 84 J Japa, 57, 58, 62 Japan, 12, 18, 165, 167, 172, 175, 178, 180, 181, 184, 186, 205, 257, 258, 268 Jaxon-Bear, Eli, 34 Jesus, 72, 85, 212 Jiu jitsu, 166 Judo, 3, 165, 166, 171, 178 K Kabat-Zinn, Jon, 10, 268, 269 Kabbalah, 173 Kalevala, 99 Kampsportforbund, Norges, 178 Kanetsuka, Minoru, 178 Karate, 3, 165, 166 Karlshamn, 286 Kellogg, John Harvey, 279 Kendal, 213 KFUM, see YMCA Khemiri, Gudrun, 218 Ki-Aikido, 171, 177, 178

Kingsford, Anna, 282, 283, 285, 288, 292n13 Kirtan, 12, 14, 15, 43, 93–111 Kobayashi, Yasuo, 171, 175, 177, 178 KonMari, 3 Korea, 167, 258 Krishnamurti, Jiddu, 247 Kronberg, Gun, 219 Kung Fu, 166 Kuvalayananda, 76, 88n4 L Landskrona, 280 Lanzarote, 242 Leadbeater, Charles W., 282 Liander, Halfdan, 279, 292n3 Liberation, 42, 52, 122 Ling, Pehr Henrik, 75 Lithuania, 131 Liturgical order, 150 Lived religion, see Religion Living practice, 231–252 Lund, 218, 280 Lunden monastery, 247 Lutheran Church Denmark, 5, 215 Finland, 5, 215 Norway, 5, 215 Sweden, 5, 215 Lutheranism, 88n6, 97, 193, 195 M Macy, Joanna, 264 Maharajji, Hans Raj, 54, 56 Maharshi, Ramana, 34, 53, 54, 56, 68n10 Maharishi Institutt for Kreativ Intelligens (MIKI), 119

 INDEX 

Maharishis Globale Administrasjon Gjennom Naturens Lov I Norge (MGANL Norge), 119 Maharishistiftelsen, 119 See also Maharishi Institutt for Kreativ Intelligens; Maharishis Globale Administrasjon Gjennom Naturens Lov I Norge; Spiritual Regeneration Movement Mahesh Yogi, Maharishi, 119, 124, 125, 135n2, 232, 238–243, 245, 246, 248, 252n2 Maindufurunesu, see Mindfulness Mantra, 43, 57, 61, 62, 86, 93, 96–102, 104, 105, 107, 108, 110, 121, 223, 233, 236 See also Japa Mao Zedong, 143 Martial arts, 16, 144, 145, 165–170, 172, 173, 176, 179, 180, 184–186 Massage, 33, 155, 197, 198, 202, 203, 221 Materialistic monism, see Hunyan qi MBSR, see Mindfulness-based stress reduction Meat, 279, 281–285, 287, 288, 291 Medical systems, see Acupuncture; Ayurveda; Western medicine Meditation Acem (see Acem) Angel meditation, 223 Art of Living (AoL) (see Art of Living) attention, 249 breathing exercises (see Prāṇāyāma/ pranayama) chanting, 58, 121 Christian Deep Meditation (kristen djupmeditation), 218, 220, 223 default mode network, 244 Dynamic Meditation, 31, 39, 45

301

Hollow and Empty, 121 Holotropic Breathwork, 39 inward and outward attention, 263 japa, 57, 58, 62 long meditations, 18, 232–233, 241, 245, 246, 248–252 mantra (see Mantra) metathoughts, 243 mindfulness (see Mindfulness) mind wandering, 244 prāṇāyāma, 58, 76, 121, 133 psychology of meditation, 231–252 Qi gong (see Qi gong/qigong) Sahaj Samadhi Meditation, 121 sati, 268 Silence Program, 121 silent meditation, 57, 99, 101, 223 sitting meditation, 40, 45, 212 sound (metodelyd), 233, 236, 242, 243, 249, 253n5 Tibetan singing bowl (see Tibetan singing bowl) Transcendental Meditation (TM) (see Transcendental Meditation) vipassana, 3, 212, 263 walk-and-talk, 249 Zen, 3, 18, 218, 223, 247, 263 Meditation meeting spots Relational Spaces, 33 Urban Om, 33 Mental practices, see Meditation Merleau-Ponty, Maurice, 266, 270 Me-societies, 10, 52, 53, 66, 157, 159 Military, 166–168, 175 Mind, 3, 29, 31, 51, 59–62, 64, 72, 75, 76, 80, 81, 84, 86, 98, 101, 121, 122, 126–128, 131, 145, 170, 180, 186, 192, 212, 213, 217, 221, 223, 238, 245, 250, 263, 270 healthy mind, 76, 79, 88n6

302 

INDEX

Mindfulness, 1, 3, 4, 10, 12, 19, 60, 78, 89n9, 121, 155, 201, 223, 244, 262–264, 268, 269 maindufurunesu, 266 Mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR), 3 Ming, Pang/Heming Pang/Ming He, 142–146, 149, 157, 159n3, 159n4 Miracle stories, 153, 156 Modern Advaita, 13, 14, 34, 35, 42, 51–67 Mooji, 34, 35, 56 Mudras, 121 Music, 43, 52, 62, 64, 93–111, 125, 175, 198, 217, 220, 221, 238 Mystical tourism, 97 N Nader, Tony, 123 Nadis, 76 Naess, Arne, 263, 264 Nature, 34, 36, 37, 52, 60, 62, 65, 74, 109, 110, 124, 125, 127, 128, 144, 166, 171, 205, 206, 223, 245, 257–271, 284–289, 291 Nature connection movement, 263 Nature deficiency, 257 Naturphilosophie, 127, 128 Neo-Advaita, 34, 52, 54, 56 Neo-sannyas movement, 13, 29, 31–36, 38, 44, 47n1 Neo-shamanic circles, 97 Neo-shintoism, 170, 173, 182 Neo-Vedānta, 53 Neuroscience, 231 New Age, 2, 10, 11, 16, 18, 21n1, 96, 97, 107, 129, 131–134, 157, 195, 200, 207n4, 213–215, 218, 219, 225, 269

New Atheist movement, 2 Nhat Hanh, Thich, 264, 269 Nirvana, 286 Nissen, Stina Ravnborg, 85 Non-human beings, 260, 265, 270 Non-judgmental attitude, 41, 64, 65 Non-violence, 186 non-violent philosophy, 173 Nordic model, 5 Nordic welfare system, 5 Norway, 5, 7, 12, 15, 16, 21n1, 29–47, 55, 118–120, 131, 133, 134, 147, 169, 172, 174, 175, 177, 178, 183, 185, 199, 214, 215, 225, 231, 234, 240, 241, 243, 247, 280 Norwegian Aikido Federation, 178 Norwegian Olympic and Paralympic Committee and Confederation of Sports, 178 NTNUI Aikido, 172 Nukunu, 34, 55 O Ollerup sports college, 76 Om Baba, 56, 63 Ō moto-kyō, 170, 182 Opheim, Tor, see Vasant Swaha Organized religion, 182 Orthodox church, 217 Orthodoxy, 53, 54, 151, 157 Orthopraxy, 157 Osho, 29, 31, 32 Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, 13, 29, 31, 32 Chandra Mohan Jain, 30–31 OSHO International Foundation(OIF), 31–33 Oshofors, see Centers

 INDEX 

Oshorisk, see Centers Outdoor culture, 261 P Page, Ben, 267 Paranormal ability, 144, 157 Peter Hess Institute Medi-Sound Kg (Finland), 199 Nordlys Centret (Denmark), 199 Vita Raeda (Sweden), 199 Peterson-Rydelius, Johan Oscar (pseudonym Justus), 278, 279 Pfeiff, Victor, 281, 282, 285, 287, 288, 290 Pilates, 80 Pilgrim/pilgrimage walks, 11, 55, 197, 213, 219–221, 224, 226n6 Point Loma, 281, 287 Poonja, H. W. L. (Papaji), 34, 35, 53, 54, 56 Post-institutional forms of religion, 95 Power place, 37, 147 Prāṇa, 76 Prāṇāyāma/pranayama, 58, 76, 121, 133 Prayer, 11, 21, 44, 85, 86, 96, 99, 155, 197, 221, 222 Prem Baba, 56 Protestantism, 192 Protestant Reformation, 193 Psychological framework, 18, 232 Psychologization of society, 34, 46 Psychospirituality, 66 Psychotherapy, 9, 66, 218, 244 Public schools, 1, 147 Q Qi field (zu chang), 141–143, 145–147, 149, 153, 155, 156, 159

303

Qi gong/qigong Shenxin, 146, 153 Xing Shen Zhuang, 146, 147 Zhineng, 15, 16, 141–159 Qi/Ki, 141–159, 171 R Raja yoga, 287 Rebalancing, 33 Rebirth, 122 Reiki, 3, 199, 223 Relaxation, 85, 100, 101, 131, 147, 197, 199–201, 204, 205, 221, 246, 259, 268 Religion, 8, 14, 20, 66, 94, 97, 109, 142, 213–215, 292 alternative spirituality, 6–8, 94, 96, 158, 159, 214, 215, 218, 219, 269 belonging without believing, 109 individual religion/spirituality, 2–4, 7–12, 15, 16, 20, 21, 21n1, 30, 33, 36, 53, 58, 66, 78, 79, 82, 84, 86, 87, 88n7, 93–111, 126, 129, 132–134, 157, 165–186, 195, 197–200, 213, 214, 219, 225, 235, 236, 247, 262, 268, 269, 291, 292 insider-outsider, 235 institutional religion, 95, 213, 214 invisible religion, 9 life-as, 8 lived religion, 20, 142, 213–215, 292 migrant religion; Buddhist, 2, 3, 7, 36, 159n7, 200, 212, 223, 225, 263, 264, 268, 285; Hindu, 2, 5, 7, 14, 47n1, 53, 85, 87, 93, 94, 96, 107–110, 124, 125, 127, 223, 246, 268, 285; Jews, 7; Muslims, 7, 155, 181, 223; Sikhs, 7

304 

INDEX

Religion (cont.) non-religion, 6 religious change, 2, 9, 192 religious complexity, 216 spiritual but not religious (SBNR), 8, 9, 14, 66, 94, 97, 101, 109 subjective-life, 8 vicarious religious, 6 visible religion, 9 Religious landscape, 5, 7, 12, 21n1, 46, 213, 214, 216 Retreat/s, 1, 13, 18, 29–47, 55, 56, 121, 198, 217–219, 231, 233, 239, 240, 244–246, 248–252 Rg-Veda, 96 Rishikesh, 55–57, 63, 66, 67n8, 239, 241 Roman Catholic Church, 217 S St Lukas Stiftelsen (St. Luke’s Foundation), 218 Sacralization, 9, 10, 214 Sacred dance, 213, 219, 220 Sacred sound, 96 Sadhana, spiritual practice, 55, 57, 110, 122 Sai Baba, 155 Saito, Morihiro, 175 Samurai, 166, 170 Śaṅkara, 53, 54 Sannyasins, see Neo-sannyas movement Satsang, 12, 13, 32, 34, 35, 37, 42–46, 47n2, 52, 54–57, 60, 62, 63, 66, 67n3, 67n4, 68n11, 122 Saxon, Johan L., 279, 289 Scandinavian Forest and Nature Therapy Institute, The (SNFTI), 262 Scandinavian gymnastics movement, 75 Schjelderup, Harald, 241

Scholander, Carin, 290 Science, 2–4, 10, 11, 15, 19, 118–120, 125–129, 131–134, 135n2, 143–145, 157, 235 Scientific paradigm, 81, 126 Seagal, Steven, 172 Secularization, 2, 6, 9, 67n8, 134, 215 Self-defense, 3, 175 Self-discipline, 166 Self-knowledge, 59 Self-observation, 61 Self-reflexivity, 59–62, 65 self-enquiry, 13 self-inquiry, 60–62 Self-spirituality, see Spirituality Self-transformation, 41 Self, the improving, 65 transcending, 65, 95 Sensory awareness exercises, 259 Sensualization of experience, 193 Seva, see Volunteer work Shamanism, 167, 181 Shankar, Ravi, 120, 121, 123–125 ShantiMayi, 56 Shaolin school/monks, 146, 166, 167, 247, 253n6, 264 Shinrin-yoku, 12, 18, 19, 257–271 Shintoism, 170, 186 Shinto shrine, 179–182, 186 Shodokan, 171, 178 Shoji Nishio, 178 Sigur Rós, 198 Silenius, Petteri, 174–176, 180–184 Skårup, Rikke, 71, 72 SKY breath, see Sudarshan kriya (SKY breath) Smith, Robert W., 153, 167 Social legitimation, 15, 118, 122–123, 130 Somatic inversion, 192, 196–197, 204, 206

 INDEX 

Sound healing sound bathing, 198 sound massage, 197 Spas, 11, 20, 155 Spiritual but not religious, see Religion Spiritualistic seances, 194 Spirituality, 107, 134 alternative spirituality, 6–8, 94, 96, 158, 159, 214, 215, 218, 219, 269 holistic spirituality, 14, 15, 93–111, 268 individual spirituality, 213, 214 Post-Christian, 107 self-spirituality, 54, 107, 134 Spiritual Regeneration Movement (SRG), 118, 119 Spiritual revolution, 9, 12, 21n1, 213 “Spiritual travellers,” 97 Sport culture, 166 Stevens, John, 170 Stinnisen, Wilfrid, 218 Stockholm, 18, 33, 175, 177, 211, 213, 215, 217, 218, 280, 281, 290 Stress, 2, 3, 10, 15, 40, 41, 78–81, 86, 99, 101, 108, 117, 118, 126, 129–131, 133, 155–157, 197, 198, 220–222, 241, 246, 258 Sudarshan kriya (SKY breath), 120–122, 125, 126, 128–133 Suzuki, D. T., 167 Svenska Vegetariska Föreningen (SVF) (The Swedish Vegetarian Association), 278 Swami Vivekananda, see Vivekananda Sweden, 5–7, 11, 12, 16, 18, 19, 21n1, 33, 35, 134, 142, 147, 157, 169, 174–178, 180, 183, 185, 199, 211–225, 247, 249, 257–271, 278–281, 291 Swedenborgianism, 167

305

Swedish Budo & Martial Arts Confederation, 177 Swedish Sports Confederation, 177 T Tai chi, 3, 11 Taisen Deshumaru, 167 Takeda Sokaku, 170 Takeji Tomita, 174–176, 185 Tantra Tantric traditions, 93 workshops, 33 Tea ceremony, 260 Taekwondo, 3 Teosofisk Tidskrift, 280, 283, 286, 287, 290, 292n2, 292n5 Territorial passage, 149 Tetsutaka Sugawara, 175 Theosophical movement, 19, 277, 281–284, 287, 289, 291 Theosophy, 19, 167, 277–292 Therapeutic belief, 124 Therapeutic culture, 34, 46, 52, 66, 133 Therapeutic instruments, 17, 197, 201 Therapy culture, 38, 232 This-worldly, 96, 97, 122 Tibet, 200, 201 Tibetan singing bowl, 12, 17, 191, 192, 196–201, 203, 204, 207n4 Tikva, 222, 224 Tingley, Katherine, 281 Tissier, Christian, 172, 175 Tohei, Koichi, 171, 173, 178 Tomiki, Kenji, 171, 177, 178 Tomohide Akiyama, 258 Transcendental Meditation (TM), 3, 12, 15, 18, 117–135, 232–234, 236–242, 244–246, 248, 251, 252n1, 252n2, 252n3, 253n5 Trondheim, 120, 234, 240

306 

INDEX

U Ueshiba, Kisshomaru, 170, 171 Ueshiba, Morihei, 16, 167, 170, 171, 181, 182, 185 V Vallqvist, Gunnel, 219 Vasant Swaha, 13, 30, 34–40, 42, 44–46, 55 Veda, 53, 118, 120, 125–127 Vedānta, 13, 53, 55 Vedic devata (creative intelligens), 126 Vedic science, 125–128, 132 Vedic sound, 125 Vegetarianen: De Nordiska vegetariska föreningarnas tidskrift, 279 Vegetarianism, 12, 19, 20, 277–292 Vipassana, see Meditation Vitalist materialist monism, 270 Vivekananda, 53, 54 Volunteer/voluntary work, 33, 120, 122, 172, 186, 233, 234, 246 Volunteer work, 122 von Betzen, Frida, 286 W Waterscapes, 204, 205 Weapons training, 169 Weisgaard, Ethan, 174 Well-being, 15–17, 19, 58, 93–95, 97, 101, 105, 109, 118, 124, 128–130, 133, 142, 143, 155, 157, 158, 195, 198, 199, 206, 214, 264, 268–270 Wellbeing culture, 261 Wellness, 3, 41, 105, 122, 198, 200, 221, 222, 259 “We-sociability,” 159

Western Esotericism, 167 Western medicine, 4, 144 Western popular culture, 168 Western psychology, 38, 238 Wetterholm, Petra Ellora Cau, 259, 269 Workplace, 4, 11, 20, 201, 269 Y YMCA, 75 Yoga Acroyoga, 84 ashtanga yoga, 76 Body Flow, 80 Christian yoga, 85, 194, 224 church yoga, 85, 224 Corpus Vitalis Yoga, 80 cross yoga, 85, 224 Danish yoga, 77 dynamic yoga, 84 Flow Yoga, 80 Hamsa Yoga, 80 Hatha Yoga, 75, 80 modern yoga, 14, 71–87, 88n3 postural yoga (see Hatha yoga) Samāveśa Yoga, 81 Sri Sri Yoga, 121 stress-sensitive yoga, 84 traditional Indian yoga, 75 Yogafaith, 72, 85 Yoga Church Denmark, 85 Yoga nidra, 121 Yogendra, 76 Yoshigasaki, Kenjiro, 177, 178 Yoshinkan, 171, 178 Z Zen, 31, 167, 223, 263, 268 Zen Buddhism, 166, 167