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That description is as wimpy and trite as they come. Milquetoast, even.
When I think of singing arti and having felt longing for my dear mother, father, sister, brother, friend, and lord, that description makes me want to howl in gut-wrenching guffaws (I'm too dignified to roll on the floor to laugh at Prem Rawat).
Rawat has morphed into his beige and gold furnishings and decor. If he had any fucking nuts he'd come on out as the messiah again. But, then they'd have to sanitize his milquetoast period. I've always said these 18 years that he did the best financially when he was the LOTU.
Just some light thinking... 
Modified by Cynthia at Mon, May 29, 2017, 14:46:48
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