I happened to find Wayne Dyer on PBS today and listened in fascination as he described his view of the world from behind the rose colored glasses. Astonishing. I remember the days when I ate this stuff up. Looking at the teary eyed audience members was like looking into my past.
Before Darwin, virtually everyone believed in a creator and a meaningful creation, a human spirit, a purpose. So instead of "the beauty of nature", it was "the glory of God". After Darwin, everyone just ignores what is known because they don't like it.
The sadness I am feeling now after watching Wayne Dyer and listening to his narrowly selective, prehistoric and infantile interpretation of the human experience, is very conflicting. In one sense I was inspired by his presentation (the PBS special was called "inspiration"). But while watching I knew it was all false. All childish. All just nonsense. I am absolutely certain that Wayne Dyer is a delusional fantasist, and living through his eyes must be wonderful and beautiful. He thanked the audience members for his mansion in Maui, having been paid for by book sellings. What a lovely family, lovely daughter, wonderful life. He manifested it all through positive intention and Universal grace.
Dyer then had a Rwandan women who was a survivor of genocide. She hid in a bathroom while every member of her extended family and neighbors were slaughtered with machetes. Through this, she claims to have found God and wrote a book about it. Dyer of course, finds it to be a profound inspiration. I sat baffled.
Dyer in fact, knows that we survive death. Dyer knows that all of our lives have a purpose. Dyer endorses past life regression with Brian Weiss. Dyer believes that the greatest of human sufferings and tragedies can be rationalized.
Watching this show emphasises my sense of unbelief in a nonphysical soul. What tragic absurdity. I had the same exact sense when I watched his last segment on PBS.
At one point he held up a photo of a child in a bathtub smiling ear to ear, hand on his naked crotch. He pointed out that his daughter Skye thinks the reason the infant is so happy is because he has his hand on his peepy. The audience laughs. Dyer stood there confidently, appearing like a great big egomaniacal bald adolescent with wrinkles. With perfect seriousness he bellows, "when you picture Spirit, think of this".
And that's pretty much where we agree.