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	<title>SamadhiMuse &#187; Rajneesh (Osho)</title>
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	<description>Personal poetry</description>
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		<title>1982-05-25</title>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 25 May 1982 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1982]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Vancouver]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[               Bhagwan says &#8230; feeling and longing                  are more than reason and reasons.            [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>               Bhagwan says &#8230; feeling and longing<BR/>                  are more than reason and reasons.<BR/><P/>               And I begin to remember something<BR/>                  like a man on the edge of sleep.<BR/><P/>                                 gallagher<BR/>                                 25 may 82<BR/>                                 vancouver<BR/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1982-07-03</title>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 03 Jul 1982 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1982]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneeshpuram]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;      3 July 82    a Rajneeshpuram diary &#8211; 1st festival      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;      The first day here draws to a close and I want to capture some      of [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/>      3 July 82    a Rajneeshpuram diary &#8211; 1st festival<BR/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      The first day here draws to a close and I want to capture some<BR/>      of it. But the images and feelings parade by until my mind<BR/>      numbs.  The bus ride from Portland 3 hrs down the Columbia<BR/>      River and then south into the body of Oregon.<BR/><P/>      The ride was mostly Silvia the Chilean girl (woman &#8230; older<BR/>      than I) I sat next to.  I got the 2nd seat back on the driver<BR/>      side which is about the best place.  A German Jew translated<BR/>      into Santiago and raised with South American morals &#8230; then<BR/>      Rajneesh.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      I tried to come so as to open myself to this to the maximum.<BR/>      Not to force anything but to always be aware of my current, my<BR/>      best and my goal with the patience and intent to improve and<BR/>      the forgivness to fail.  I&#8217;m not as good with prose as I&#8217;d like<BR/>      to be.  Perhaps I&#8217;m no better at poetry but I&#8217;ve just been<BR/>      writing it so long I&#8217;m blind to that.  I digress.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      Because I followed Silvia into the European registration area I<BR/>      got a tent close to her and occuppied by German girls.  The<BR/>      local area, Buddhafield 2, seems to be Germans and Chileans.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      I arrived at 1 a.m. after a crazy ride with Silvia and a German<BR/>      girl and a ranch resident from Chile in a pickup truck.  My<BR/>      tent mates were asleep so I met them in the morning.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      The Buddha hall covers 2 acres.  Probably better than 8,000 of<BR/>      us gathered there this morning to see Bhagwan.  We had a<BR/>      vegetarian breaskfast of granola, apples, bannanas, unimproved<BR/>      yogurt and orange juice.  I wonder how I will survive 5 days<BR/>      vegetarian.  The meals are serve yourself affairs but the<BR/>      quality of everything seems excellent.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      Perhaps my perceptual entrapment with the maya of women is<BR/>      loosening a bit.  I seem to have a fundamental intention for<BR/>      coming here which is clear of feminine fantasies.  In fact as<BR/>      thoughts pass thru my mind I WANT to not play that game.  No<BR/>      double entendre, no motive within motive, no watching for signs<BR/>      of invitation.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      When Bhagwan was coming in today my eyes watered.  tears were<BR/>      not far away.  I cherish some hope that he may, could, provide<BR/>      some alternative to working it all out alone.  Something sounds<BR/>      wrong with that as I write it.  Perhaps it&#8217;s just that he&#8217;s a<BR/>      real example of where there is to go.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      It just occurred to me that Germans and Japanese comprise<BR/>      almost everyone in Buddhafield 1 &#038; 2.  The event organizers<BR/>      must have put the Americans in another area ( with the<BR/>      Australians ).  I&#8217;ll have to go see tomorrow.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      So much to do.  I attended Satsang (saw Bhagwan), ran around 2<BR/>      of the 3 loops that comprise the ranch, had 2 very strange<BR/>      showers, listened to Bhagwan on a recording, bought this<BR/>      stationary, took a nap, met my tent mate (Astrid, I think) and<BR/>      went to wild dancing at Buddhahall.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      Things I want to do are: go swiming at the lake, see the ranch<BR/>      exibit, run the full 3 loops, listen to Bhagwan recordings each<BR/>      day, get a sun tan.  Find peace amid isolation amid 10,000 and<BR/>      have the grace to give love to those I encounter.  I don&#8217;t seem<BR/>      to have much to say that I want to say.  What&#8217;s happening here<BR/>      is not carried well by words, but I can smile.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      Is Bhagwan a living master?  I realize now I was naive to think<BR/>      sparks or auras would manifest or something similar.  He&#8217;s a<BR/>      man.  it&#8217;s his subjective aspect that&#8217;s different.  I&#8217;m not<BR/>      sure what my question is now &#8230; I think I&#8217;ll let the week<BR/>      write what ever answer there is on my heart.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/>      4 July 82    a Rajneeshpuram diary &#8211; 1st festival<BR/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      Each time I dance and sing it comes easier.  The self<BR/>      consciouness leaves sooner, the freedom to move in and out of<BR/>      dance flowing smoother.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      It&#8217;s funny, yesterday I was thinking that the caliber of the<BR/>      people here was excellent.  Everywhere I look I see people that<BR/>      interest me.  I&#8217;m not the only one apparently.  Some newspaper<BR/>      articles seem to express the same recognition.  They say the<BR/>      cream of the crop has come to Bhagwan.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      Bhagwan will pass away.  Within three years i think.  He has<BR/>      said that this movement will calcify (like Jesus left the Roman<BR/>      Catholic Church behind) when he&#8217;s gone.  There is something<BR/>      living and unique here beyond the search for higher<BR/>      consciouness and that is the cooperative community.  A true<BR/>      commune.  How will it fare Post-Bhagwan given the history of<BR/>      commune utopias the last 100 years.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      That which I have liked I have become good at.  Computers, sex,<BR/>      knowledge.  Love and God have been lower priorities emotionally<BR/>      though I claim them higher intellectually.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      Bhagwan says don&#8217;t save anything.  Only when you have spent<BR/>      everything can you become nothing.  Live, live, burn<BR/>      incandescent that you may expend yourself.  Amen, to my savings<BR/>      account.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      Let love expand in the roundbodied awareness that is at once<BR/>      nothing and all it percieves.  That mind should be there is OK<BR/>      &#8230; but it is just a tool.  Sheath it when not in use.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      Today, at Satsang, it occurred to me why Bhagwan aways wears a<BR/>      cap and never speaks. (mind come unsheathed!).  Radiation<BR/>      treatments with a locus of the throat or perhaps the chest.  It<BR/>      may be imagination or clear vision.  I&#8217;ll keep it to myself.  I<BR/>      felt both sad and proud at his strength when I thought these<BR/>      things.  I got up to dance and invited Him to experience my<BR/>      movement, to recall his own &#8230; a gift.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/>      5 July 82    a Rajneeshpuram diary &#8211; 1st festival<BR/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      Bhagwan says we are born with everything we need to celebrate.<BR/>      We are born with life.  What more could we need.  He says the<BR/>      birds need nothing to celebrate &#8230; why should we?<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      Last night my fourth tent mate came home.  He had stayed away<BR/>      the first two nights.  He and G&#8212; slept together and &#8230; it<BR/>      didn&#8217;t seem strange.  Everything stands on its own merit. &#8230; I<BR/>      have learned something here.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      I got up early today to be able to sit closer to Bhagwan at<BR/>      Satsang.  I seem to move through my activities with a strange<BR/>      tolerance and patience.  Mindless to some degree though I still<BR/>      lack that quality in any strong sense.  The wait in line was<BR/>      easy.  Is it the people I wait with &#8230; or how I wait.  Maybe<BR/>      both.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      Can I capture Satsang?  I spent so much of it mindless &#8230; just<BR/>      aware.  It was strange to watch Bhagwan and not have my mind<BR/>      fill with word and poses and imaginings.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      When He stood to go the rythmic clapping began and I was swept<BR/>      even stronger than before.  There&#8217;s something incredible at the<BR/>      conjunction of mindlessness, giving yourself completely, and<BR/>      the feeling Bhagwan can stir in his Sanyasins.  Even now my<BR/>      eyes verge on tears.  I think I cryed then when he raised his<BR/>      hands for us to get up &#8230; it was as if every person felt the<BR/>      gesture directly in a caress of pure love.  Could we respond<BR/>      with less.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      I saw a handsome man today.  Cut out of noble gypsy like Khan<BR/>      in Startrek.  He was emptying trash cans and smiling.  A woman<BR/>      came up and hugged him.  He hugged her and smiled, careful not<BR/>      to soil her dress with his gloves, and then went back on with<BR/>      his work &#8230; smiling.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      Another perspective on women.  I think my recent aversion to<BR/>      looking at women as sexual objects is due to an understanding<BR/>      that sex as an act of love is a higher state than sex as an act<BR/>      of gratification or of using.  I&#8217;m not sure I&#8217;m across this<BR/>      distinction but I&#8217;m aware of it.  In this environment it seems<BR/>      the more natural way to feel in spite of such an incredible<BR/>      concentration of beautiful women.  Women with uninhibited<BR/>      freedom and directness in their eyes.  Women it would be easy<BR/>      to love.  And simple.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      And yet &#8230; and yet I&#8217;ve seen here an Arabic woman with hair as<BR/>      black as night and the soul of a gypsy, I think.  And for her<BR/>      there is something east of using and west of love.  Passion.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      No, I think passion is what it&#8217;s called when both people use<BR/>      each other &#8230; still south of love.  Mutual animal recognition<BR/>      of something other than the other&#8217;s soul.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/>      6 July 82    a Rajneeshpuram diary &#8211; 1st festival<BR/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      Today I made up my mind about whether Bhagwan is a living<BR/>      master and if I will take Sanyas.  He is and I will.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      I can&#8217;t go as far as trying to live here in the commune.  I<BR/>      love my family too much to take that leap.  So I will take<BR/>      Sanyas and investigate commune living.  I have found an<BR/>      idealogy/philosophy/religion.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      I cryed more freely tonight.  I had &#8216;prayed&#8217; to find how to<BR/>      weave Bhagwan and my family.  And then I understood &#8230; knew<BR/>      both Bhagwan as a true master and my decision on Sanyas.  I&#8217;m<BR/>      not sure there&#8217;s anyway to separate these two.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      When Bhagwan entered, the quick summer storm&#8217;s thunder rolled<BR/>      &#8230; celebration/confirmation.  When it rained and blew we<BR/>      cheered it on joyously.  And when the lights and sound failed<BR/>      for a moment .. our song of love and praise, our conscious<BR/>      link, never faltered.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      Bhagwan is there in the silence.  It takes an act of faith to<BR/>      feel him but once made he&#8217;s there.  You know it.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      Sanyasins are never there when you look for them and then show<BR/>      up when you&#8217;re not looking.  They come and go like the wind in<BR/>      ones and twos.  they have the freedom.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;<BR/><P/>      When Bhagwan drove off the one security guard that always looks<BR/>      so stern (the beefy blond on with the curley hair and arms<BR/>      folded) finally made a sign.  Many people were aware of his<BR/>      near absolute consciouness to duty and when, as Bhagwan&#8217;s car<BR/>      passed, he folded his hands, as in prayer, to Bhagwan, the<BR/>      Sanyasins responded with an outburst of applause and joy at his<BR/>      sign.  He smiled sideways in his acknowledgment that he knew<BR/>      they applauded for him and then the applause erupted and first<BR/>      one and then many Sanyasins burst on him and smothered him in<BR/>      hugs.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-<BR/><P/>      The judge that allowed Rajneesh a city and his wife watched<BR/>      tonight as well as some outside police.  I stopped singing<BR/>      several times and wondered how it all must look.  My eyes<BR/>      always watered at the power and the beauty.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/>      8 July 82    a Rajneeshpuram diary &#8211; 1st festival<BR/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      It was hard telling Rose.  So little of the experience can pass<BR/>      &#8230; only the tangible details; I&#8217;ll start wearing Sanyas<BR/>      colors, I believe Bhagwan is a true master.  But overall she<BR/>      was fair.  Scathing inditments followed by a good natured<BR/>      &#8216;you&#8217;re such a fool&#8217;.  She syas she&#8217;s more worried for Danny&#8217;s<BR/>      reaction.  I guess I am too, now.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      Sanyasins &#8230; they&#8217;re people I can be proud of.  They carry the<BR/>      best of the world&#8217;s wisdom out with themselves dressed for<BR/>      attention with a mandate to love and understand.  To transcend<BR/>      reactions.  Strong faces, open hearts.  When I walk by them and<BR/>      they smile their smile I&#8217;m glad of my choice.<BR/><P/>      &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<BR/><P/>      I just realized that when I feel unable to openly experience a<BR/>      sanyasin .. that I&#8217;m afraid of falling into so much beauty all<BR/>      at one without some social support.<BR/><P/>                              &#8211; 1st festival diary.<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1982-11-17 Bhagwan knocking</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1982/11/17/1982-11-17-bhagwan-knocking/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Nov 1982 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1982]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Vancouver]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[                     Bhagwan knocking      I read Bhagwan just before I went to sleep      and awoke to find my self drawn to paper by my thoughts.  [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>                     Bhagwan knocking<BR/><P/>      I read Bhagwan just before I went to sleep<BR/>      and awoke to find my self drawn to paper by my thoughts.<BR/>      Itching me, burning me, his words brought me awake<BR/>      with thoughts that seemed to cut through<BR/>         the dreams I normally live.<BR/><P/>      I&#8217;ve drifted and doubted under the incredible pressure of friends<BR/>      until Oregon and the experience I had there<BR/>      has drifted into the library of my memories<BR/>      and I&#8217;m once more unconscious and a-churn<BR/>         with the pressures of what to do with my life.<BR/><P/>      But, when he speaks it rings with utter truth<BR/>      that while I listen and remain aware<BR/>      my life and purposes, cares and concerns<BR/>      are cast into a doubt more profound and meaningful<BR/>         by the lack of any arguments or reasons given.<BR/><P/>      If I go again I will surely take Sanyas.<BR/>      I can feel the pull from here.<BR/>      Should I light the candle I won&#8217;t let burn?<BR/>      He asks nothing if not all<BR/>      and ( though no one believes it )<BR/>      he asks nothing but for me.<BR/>      My love, my awareness, my being.<BR/>      He says do them, take them, be them.<BR/>      I point the way, I am the gate.<BR/>      Listen, experience, become &#8230; more.<BR/>      I am a living example.<BR/><P/>      And I stand awe struck and amazed<BR/>      by music no one here ever seems to hear.<BR/>      Is it me or is it them?<BR/><P/>      No one here has any real purpose<BR/>      and He says there is none<BR/>      but he&#8217;s happy with that<BR/>      and look at us here.<BR/><P/>      And the night goes on.<BR/><P/>                        gallagher<BR/>                        17 Nov 82<BR/><P/>      <BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1983-01-13</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/01/13/1983-01-13-2/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 13 Jan 1983 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1983]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Vancouver]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[         I wonder, as I listen to Bhagwan&#8217;s words         if the difference he defines         between knowledge and knowing         doesn&#8217;t have something to do [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>         I wonder, as I listen to Bhagwan&#8217;s words<BR/>         if the difference he defines<BR/>         between knowledge and knowing<BR/>         doesn&#8217;t have something to do<BR/>         with the difference between holistic<BR/>         and sequential modes of perception&#8230;<BR/>         sort of like an apparatus we control<BR/>         the F stop.<BR/>         Full open is holistic with full parallel processing<BR/>         the ego dead because nothing can exist<BR/>         separate from the process?<BR/>         letting the past, as memory or judgment<BR/>         come in is analogous to dividing the task<BR/>         forming alternatives or sequentiality into it<BR/>         closing the aperture&#8230;<BR/>            attenuating the sensitivity&#8230;<BR/>               biasing the wait&#8230;.<BR/><P/>                              01-13-83<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1983-04-03</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/04/03/1983-04-03-2/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 03 Apr 1983 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1983]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rose]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[San Juan Capistrano]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[            We talked about Bhagwan and religion today.               She thinks I&#8217;m crazy but without malice.            I tried to make [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>            We talked about Bhagwan and religion today.<BR/>               She thinks I&#8217;m crazy but without malice.<BR/>            I tried to make the point that he is to religion<BR/>               what &#8216;One World&#8217; is to nationalism<BR/>            Somehow its only the Rolls Royces everyone sees<BR/>               and I had to confess I don&#8217;t understand<BR/>                  that part myself.<BR/><P/>            I told her that if I couldn&#8217;t get time off<BR/>               I would quit my job to go this summer<BR/>            and she couldn&#8217;t fathom how something<BR/>               I&#8217;m so inactive in<BR/>                  could be so important to me.<BR/><P/>            I said that in my priorities only she<BR/>               and the kids came higher.<BR/>            I tried to ask her how she would feel<BR/>               if somehow she had come to believe<BR/>                  that Christ had returned&#8230;<BR/><P/>               would it change her life,<BR/>                  that He was existing, available,<BR/>                     in our society?<BR/><P/>            Would it change mine?<BR/>               I&#8217;m still trying to find out.<BR/><P/>            I&#8217;m going to go again in July and<BR/>               join the Buddhafield.<BR/>            Open my heart and eyes to the storm<BR/>               of history around this man.<BR/><P/>                           Gallagher<BR/><P/>                           3 April 83<BR/>                           S.J.C.<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1983-07-02</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/02/1983-07-02-3/</link>
		<comments>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/02/1983-07-02-3/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Jul 1983 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1983]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneeshpuram]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[               As empty as the wind               Rajneeshpuram blows thru me               its rain, its [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>               As empty as the wind<BR/>               Rajneeshpuram blows thru me<BR/>               its rain, its words, its brown hills<BR/>               sculpted in the late afternoon sun<BR/>               and the fragments of cold wind<BR/>               beneath the swarming clouds<BR/><P/>               Kundalini ends with the worshipers<BR/>               whispers singing &#8216;Gautama&#8217;<BR/>               towards Bhagwan&#8217;s home<BR/><P/>                           gallagher<BR/><P/>                           02 july 83 &#8211; Rajneeshpuram<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1983-07-02</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/02/1983-07-02-4/</link>
		<comments>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/02/1983-07-02-4/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Jul 1983 08:02:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1983]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneeshpuram]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[            I see faces here with intellect and character            wearing orange            and they remind me that       [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>            I see faces here with intellect and character<BR/>            wearing orange<BR/>            and they remind me that<BR/>            our mild religious persecutions<BR/>            could be their political prisons<BR/><P/>                              gallagher<BR/><P/>                              02 july 83 &#8211; Rajneeshpuram<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1983-07-02</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/02/1983-07-02/</link>
		<comments>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/02/1983-07-02/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Jul 1983 08:03:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1983]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneeshpuram]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[            This place is outrageous.            There&#8217;s a post office on the main street            of Rajneeshpuram, Oregon       [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>            This place is outrageous.<BR/>            There&#8217;s a post office on the main street<BR/>            of Rajneeshpuram, Oregon<BR/>            and lights over the road like Disneyland<BR/>            and an orange party underneath.<BR/>            It&#8217;s festival time,<BR/>            party time at Rancho Rajneesh;<BR/>            the eye of the storm.<BR/><P/>                        gallagher<BR/><P/>                        02 july 83 &#8211; Rajneeshpuram<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1983-07-03 Festival Snapshots</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/03/1983-07-03-festival-snapshots/</link>
		<comments>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/03/1983-07-03-festival-snapshots/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 1983 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1983]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneeshpuram]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[                        Festival Snapshots            Morning, serving breakfast,            still fasting, bright and [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>                        Festival Snapshots<BR/><P/>            Morning, serving breakfast,<BR/>            still fasting, bright and clear,<BR/>            the lady vectored to the heart of it.<BR/>            Laser surgery with loving eyes;<BR/>            this is not it.  The ideas are not it.<BR/>            They just indicate it, as Bhagwan says,<BR/>            like fingers pointing at the moon;<BR/>            they are not it.<BR/><P/>            This is a stage provided<BR/>            for us to work ourselves out on.<BR/>            I can&#8217;t remember all her words<BR/>            but they ran like silver through me<BR/>            and that I can&#8217;t remember them doesn&#8217;t matter.<BR/>            Truth has its own memory.<BR/><P/>            What I remember most is the feeling<BR/>            as she spoke, and her eyes &#8230;<BR/>            with openness and love,<BR/>            like the glow of whiskey going down,<BR/>            or Venus rising.<BR/><P/>                              gallagher<BR/><P/>                              03 july 83 &#8211; Rajneeshpuram<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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		<title>1983-07-03 What to do</title>
		<link>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/03/1983-07-03-what-to-do/</link>
		<comments>http://samadhimuse.com/1983/07/03/1983-07-03-what-to-do/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 1983 08:02:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dennis</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[1983]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneesh (Osho)]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rajneeshpuram]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[                        What to do?         I believe in this.         No waiting through thousands of people   [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><PRE><font face="Verdana" size="2"><P/>                        What to do?<BR/><P/>         I believe in this.<BR/>         No waiting through thousands of people<BR/>         and months of time<BR/>         for someone real to come by.<BR/>         Here, every other person<BR/>         is a wonder of openness and courage.<BR/><P/>         From all over the world<BR/>         people who believe like I do have come together.<BR/>         The languages, the faces, the beauty<BR/>         &#8211; it&#8217;s astonishing.<BR/><P/>         It&#8217;s not power they respect,<BR/>         nor possessions or title<BR/>         but rather, just that same thing<BR/>         that I went seeking so long ago<BR/>         in such a stumbling way.<BR/><P/>                        gallagher<BR/><P/>                        03 july 83 &#8211; Rajneeshpuram, Oregon<BR/><P/><BR/></FONT></PRE><P/><P/><I><B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#808080">&#8212; Copyright</font></B><font face="Courier" size="1" color="#C0C0C0"> 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher &#8212;</font></I></p>
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