By Adam Langer
The only aspects separating this press conference from the run-of-the-mill Democratic or Republican affair are the stunningly low turnout (about 15), the chintzy spread (shortbread cookies, Celestial Seasonings tea, and two pitchers of water), and the three barefoot, giggling young men in T-shirts and loose-fitting trousers, sitting cross-legged with eyes closed on eight mattresses with white sheets placed side by side.
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Once the speeches are through the young men begin to breathe deeply. Then with a sharp exhalation, they begin hopping from one mattress to the other, laughing all the way as they bounce bounce bounce like happy cartoon frogs leaping from lily pad to lily pad. Boing boing boing. Stopping and starting. Slowing down for a moment and then bursting forth with newfound energy. Boing boing boing. Their faces exude an inner contentment, a carefree happiness, and their bodies seem out of their mind’s control. Boing boing boing. And so it goes for more than five minutes with the young men never tiring, never seeming out of breath, only smiling and frolicking until Senate candidate Davis says, “OK, that’s enough now. That’s enough.”
And if you think that all of this discussion of hopping, inner bliss, pure silence, and leaping about like beatifically gifted Jesse White tumblers seems to have precious little to do with politics, think again. It’s the keystone to the Natural Law Party platform. Through the practice of meditation and “yogic flying,” the party seeks to end crime, balance the budget, and cure the country’s ills by showing it the way to enlightenment–the same enlightenment that entranced the Beatles, Mia Farrow, and Doug Henning way back when, when Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was a TV talk-show staple and transcendental meditation was all the rage.
Winter, who spent most of his adult life as a Republican, was drawn to the Natural Law Party after being exposed to the “cliquishness” and “favoritism” exhibited in Republican Party committee meetings in Leyden Township.
But for now, despite their realistic appraisals of their chances, Davis and Winter are seated atop the mattresses in the Blackstone, wistfully discussing their courses of action should the world turn upside down and find them elected to Congress in 1997.
“There’s no religious aspect to this,” says Winter. “You can’t even call it belief. It is spiritual, and we talk a lot about inward growth and that’s a spiritual aspect, but it’s not a religious affiliation. As far as I know [transcendental meditation] is taught in every country in the world and in every religion. There are Catholic priests who do this. There are rabbis and Muslims and Buddhists and Hindus. It doesn’t have the effect of replacing people’s beliefs; it enhances them.”
