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