To those questioning ISA/Institute of Self Actualisation/Waking Up Weekend (or indeed any so called self improvement organisation) I suggest you look to the founder and be sure that their motivations are pure and they are someone you respect. To me, Ole Larson, he is far from this person.
The broken look to ISA as a family and to Ole as a father figure. Misguidedly, having taken part in several ISA weekends, I ended up dating one of these devotees. He had lofty ambitions, deployed in a very ISA like singleminded fashion, to navigate his way up to be one of the founder’s right hand men and hence spent an inordinate amount of time trying to gain his approval - refurbishing his vast West London house in preparation for a visit which might or might not happen, getting me to cook meals for this same imaginary event which would then inevitably be deemed as not good enough … Then finally came the day when, if the relationship was to continue, I needed to be presented to the man himself and to do so we were to fly out to his large farm in the France. On reflection, although I was meant to regard this as a generous gesture, it would in fact have been a calculated move to ensure Ole retained control and we were kept dependent. As my boyfriend was clearly being put through some ongoing test of commitment we weren’t to receive the honour of staying with Ole himself and instead checked into a small hotel nearby. Our first audience is one I will always readily recall. We entered the farmhouse kitchen where his entourage of women were busily preparing food. Ole then appeared, greeted my boyfriend and, upon being introduced to me - done so by my boyfriend in a rather detached way that made it clear no commitment had been, or be made to our relationship without Ole’s blessing - he, in an intentionally intimidating manner, held my gaze and said ‘why do you smile in that way - the way you should smile is with your eyes’. Right from the off he was already playing power games, making sure I knew who was in control here and that I needed to do a lot more. Another thing I remember from that night is Ole acknowledging a birthday gift my boyfriend had given him by telling him that he felt he could have extended himself further. I was shocked by this lack of gratitude, but my boyfriend told me that he was right and that he should have spent more. We stayed another day and night of which I remember little other than being kept in the background whilst my boyfriend strived, rather pathetically, to achieve approval (at one point disturbingly being required to wring a chicken’s neck!) and then on our last day we were invited to join the man and his devotees for Sunday (God’s day of rest!) lunch in a nearby restaurant. On being seated at the long ‘Last Supper’ like table, I was separated and isolated from my boyfriend and positioned close to Ole. I was so pleased that our time there was coming to an end and that soon we’d be in our way home and out of the grip of this self serving person. Then, not long into the meal, Ole suddenly cut through the animated chatter by loudly enquiring of my boyfriend seated across the table ‘so is this relationship to continue?’ The question bought silence to the room. It was shocking but its response was more so as right there and then, in front of an audience, I was to learn that apparently it wasn’t! Satisfied, Ole returned to his food and I will never forget how disempowered I felt in that moment. There I was, having been publicly humiliated, stuck in the middle of nowhere with no means of escape and left with no choice but to sit through the rest of the meal with a load of pitying strangers. The only other thing I recall, rather bizarrely, is Ole chastising me for declining an entree telling me that it was it was paid for and that I could have offered it to someone else. The journey home had a very surreal quality - sitting side by side on the plane suddenly no longer in a relationship and it was clear it was not open to further discussion - the decision had been made - just not by us! (Apparently the reason was that I wasn't an ISA assistant so not sufficiently committed which no doubt meant that I was not sufficiently mailable!) On reflection it was never going to work and I had had a lucky escape. Ole was idolised, revered by his followers as someone to impress but all I saw was a bitter, heartless, cruel and rather sad old man who was on a mission to elevate himself by exploiting the vulnerable.
That was over 20 years ago. In that time I have become a qualified psychotherapist running my own private practice, enjoyed (and continue to enjoy!) a happy marriage and have raised an exceptional son who never fails to amaze me! It’s hard to believe I put myself through all that but then again it’s all part of life’s rich tapestry and definitely all learning!