I'm late to the party, but I wanted to share my experience with Phoenix Arises seminars in St. Louis.
I had been in a terrible on-again/off-again relationship. We're talking emotional abuse. A friend actually got me to sign up for Basic, using a "scholarship" she had for $100 off. I signed up; after all, it said "100% money-back guarantee".
About a month before the course was to start, I decided I didn't want to go after all, so I tried to cancel and ask for a refund. The second-in-command lady called me and said that the only way to get your money back was to actually attend the course and then if you didn't like it, they'd give you your money back. (I learned much later that they NEVER gave money back.)
I was desperate to break the obsession I had with this guy I was dating, so I thought "what the hell, I’ll go.” The key word was “obsession.” I had been obsessed with this guy for so long, I had no friends, no hobbies, no life. I was ripe for the picking. My new obsession was Phoenix.
In retrospect it is frightening how easily I bought in to the mind games they played, including shame, humiliation, hypnotism, etc. The leader, Jaimes, was scary. I remember one lady was late to a session because she had a car accident. He made her stand up in front of everyone while he screamed at her that it was all her fault. She was in tears. He called one other gal the “c” word. He told me that I was jealous of my mother and really wanted my father for myself. It went on and on and on. He had us running scared. We were often given a 30 minute break in which we had to eat, visit the bathroom, run out for props for whatever exercise was coming up. I remember vividly RUNNING through Target in a cold sweat, I was so afraid I’d be late getting back.
The real outrage was when we played the “Money Game.” In this game, we were given an assignment late one night to raise $1,000 cash by the next morning, something like eight hours later. The purpose was for us to realize how valuable we were and how meaningless money was. We were not allowed to tell anyone what we were doing, we were just supposed to cold-call our friends and family and offer to do things for them, like clean their garages, sit for their kids, etc. We also were not allowed to put forth our own money. I ended up putting in $400 of my own money because I was scared not to. I arrived the next day and was instructed to put all of the money in a huge pile. We were then instructed to roll in it while Pink Floyd’s “Money” played at top volume. It was a lot of fun, until I realized that they gathered up all the money and we never saw it again. Instead, we were given $100 scholarships to hand out to our friends and family (which had to be used within two months—they wouldn’t even give one day grace period.)
In another exercise, we had to strip down to our underwear and stand in front of people while they laughed and pointed at us. This was to teach us to handle our poor self-image.
After I finished all three courses, I actually came back and volunteered to be on “team” for a Basic. That’s when my eyes were opened wide. We were treated very poorly. We got no breaks, we had to fetch food and drinks for Jaimes. He was nasty and ill-tempered; he actually made fun of the participants when they weren’t around. For all the talk of confidentiality, there was very free talk among the staff about how weird the people were and how stupid their little problems were. I was five minutes late for one session (two hours before the seminar started) and I was lectured that I had broken my agreement. That was when the true picture emerged for me and I quit.
I will say that the obsession with Phoenix broke me of ALL obsessions. And I met several wonderful participants that are still friends to this day. We were like hostages banding together. Jaimes was a jerk; Jo is actually a very nice person who was fully under his spell. I was sorry that she bought the business from him and is continuing the sham.
I had been in a terrible on-again/off-again relationship. We're talking emotional abuse. A friend actually got me to sign up for Basic, using a "scholarship" she had for $100 off. I signed up; after all, it said "100% money-back guarantee".
About a month before the course was to start, I decided I didn't want to go after all, so I tried to cancel and ask for a refund. The second-in-command lady called me and said that the only way to get your money back was to actually attend the course and then if you didn't like it, they'd give you your money back. (I learned much later that they NEVER gave money back.)
I was desperate to break the obsession I had with this guy I was dating, so I thought "what the hell, I’ll go.” The key word was “obsession.” I had been obsessed with this guy for so long, I had no friends, no hobbies, no life. I was ripe for the picking. My new obsession was Phoenix.
In retrospect it is frightening how easily I bought in to the mind games they played, including shame, humiliation, hypnotism, etc. The leader, Jaimes, was scary. I remember one lady was late to a session because she had a car accident. He made her stand up in front of everyone while he screamed at her that it was all her fault. She was in tears. He called one other gal the “c” word. He told me that I was jealous of my mother and really wanted my father for myself. It went on and on and on. He had us running scared. We were often given a 30 minute break in which we had to eat, visit the bathroom, run out for props for whatever exercise was coming up. I remember vividly RUNNING through Target in a cold sweat, I was so afraid I’d be late getting back.
The real outrage was when we played the “Money Game.” In this game, we were given an assignment late one night to raise $1,000 cash by the next morning, something like eight hours later. The purpose was for us to realize how valuable we were and how meaningless money was. We were not allowed to tell anyone what we were doing, we were just supposed to cold-call our friends and family and offer to do things for them, like clean their garages, sit for their kids, etc. We also were not allowed to put forth our own money. I ended up putting in $400 of my own money because I was scared not to. I arrived the next day and was instructed to put all of the money in a huge pile. We were then instructed to roll in it while Pink Floyd’s “Money” played at top volume. It was a lot of fun, until I realized that they gathered up all the money and we never saw it again. Instead, we were given $100 scholarships to hand out to our friends and family (which had to be used within two months—they wouldn’t even give one day grace period.)
In another exercise, we had to strip down to our underwear and stand in front of people while they laughed and pointed at us. This was to teach us to handle our poor self-image.
After I finished all three courses, I actually came back and volunteered to be on “team” for a Basic. That’s when my eyes were opened wide. We were treated very poorly. We got no breaks, we had to fetch food and drinks for Jaimes. He was nasty and ill-tempered; he actually made fun of the participants when they weren’t around. For all the talk of confidentiality, there was very free talk among the staff about how weird the people were and how stupid their little problems were. I was five minutes late for one session (two hours before the seminar started) and I was lectured that I had broken my agreement. That was when the true picture emerged for me and I quit.
I will say that the obsession with Phoenix broke me of ALL obsessions. And I met several wonderful participants that are still friends to this day. We were like hostages banding together. Jaimes was a jerk; Jo is actually a very nice person who was fully under his spell. I was sorry that she bought the business from him and is continuing the sham.