Page 91
“Your Work is Done” By Darius McStay You might more fully appreciate my despair at not being able to financially support Phoenix in his hour of need knowing the back story. However, I am not sharing this with you as a sob story. More to demonstrate "How Great is God". I have for a few years received in my latihan to "Be Still and Know that I am God". After many battles I had become exhausted, weary even. Yet still I battled on, driving hundreds of miles a week around schools in the country, motivating students to succeed at their GCSEs. Until I became ill and lost my job, forced into bankruptcy a second time. Yet still, after only a brief pause I began setting up the business I mentioned that I then lost immediately it succeeded, thanks to Lockdown. And then I learn how ill my dear child has become and how in need he is and I feel powerless, not able to help. Which is when I reached out - I have to give credit to Phoenix for the gofundme being his idea, and his mum for suggesting the Almoners - and watch Subud members around the world, the Almoners, and many many friends rally round to miraculously provide the EXACT amount required to provide Phoenix with what he needs. At this point, I'd like to share my personal journey with the Latihan to demonstrate more how miraculous this is (to me at least). Last year at Loudwater Farm, I received that "my work was done". I told no-one about this, for it seemed a little delusional, and not sure if I could trust myself, I didn't know exactly what it meant. I received it over and over, and sang "Oh come let us be grateful!" regularly in that my latihan. (wrong words according to the hymn, surely, I thought?! Shouldn't I be adoring him?!) Then, when an opportunity to move into a flat of my own at Christmas came I tested with a Subud member. After testing, which was very positive, he turned to me and said "I've just received that your work is done, and that you can move forward knowing this and enjoy it". I was stunned. Looking forward to launching into a promising voice career I moved to London and immediately I moved I got long covid. Whaaaa?!! Come ON, God, I thought. This year, in my latihan, I have again received that my work is done, but that I am exhausted and my soul is weary; That I have long covid because God knows I need a break to rest (be careful what you pray for!) and that until now there has been nothing I could have down to succeed in this world - my whole 28 years in Subud has been a clearing of karma, accrued over many past lives and my inherited ancestral line. And here's my point, one that has demonstrated to me, just how incredible this Subud journey is, and how fundamentally we must surrender, willing even to die to this world. In my latihan, which I am diligent with, around my capacity with long covid, I have still been singing "Oh come let us be grateful". But for what?! I have never managed to live above the poverty line my whole working career, my material poverty has cost me dearly, and I am ill, exhausted and my child is suffering! And what work have I done? And for WHAT? So I asked, for what should I be grateful, Lord, I who have repeatedly failed to provide materially for myself, my child and the mother of my child? I, who feel as if I have lost everything I ever wanted in this world? This is what I received, and the receiving was one of the clearest I have ever had, deep and profound: I was shown my soul, and through accessing that "self" I remembered all my past lives, the errors and debts I have collected, the harm and karmic debts I have accrued over many, many lifetimes. And how I have been stuck in the Satanic (material) realm till now. And then I heard, as if it were the voice of God them-self: "I have saved your soul. Your work is done". Dear God, my merciful Father. Thank You. For my poverty, my suffering, and for all the willing souls in this world through whom you have carried me. I am grateful, to You, and all my brothers and sisters. Amen. - - - - - Past Life Son By Anonymous Once, when I attended Congress as I did every year, I chanced upon a past life son. In this life, I was a Westerner, he was Javanese and much older than I. How did I know that he was my past life son? Bapak told him, then he told me. Here's how it happened: An elderly Indonesian helper limped past with crippled legs and I reached out to him spontaneously and asked what was the matter with his legs. I wouldn't ordinarily do this, you understand, it just 'happened'. He had a little English and I had even less Indonesian, but we managed to communicate. He told me that somebody jealous of him in his career, had put snake poison in his drinking water years before and it was slowly and painfully affecting him. Next morning after breakfast, he said he had something important to tell me. Apparently, in the night Bapak had come to him and told him that I was his past life mother and that he should ask my forgiveness. This he did, though neither of us knew why. It didn't matter. We spent lots of time together after that, just sitting quietly and it was a loving, gentle and moving experience for us both. Afterwards he wrote to me in English now and then for about seven years and I replied. It meant a lot to him to have found me and he liked to call me Mama. As a result of this experience about forgiveness that he'd had with Bapak, he started visiting his mother who lived quite far from him in Central Java and he became a better son to her. Eventually I asked if he could receive any details of our life together in the past and he wrote what he'd received in Indonesian. A friend kindly translated for me: "Dear Ibu, 700 years ago. You were the daughter of a spiritual family of Rabbis and I was your baby. When I grew up, I travelled preaching the Word from the Book of God." It meant a lot to him to have found his mother, but after seven years he was too ill to write any more and his last message said that this suffering was his Dharma. After eight years of being out of touch, I felt him strongly pulling me to visit Indonesia so I went. That's how I found out that he had died forty days before. - - - - - Saying Goodbye to Bapak By Anonymous It was perhaps 1970, in London. Bapak had just given his last talk at Alexandra Palace and we all stood as he walked out. Then someone from the National Committee came to the microphone and announced “Bapak and his party will be leaving from Heathrow tomorrow morning. There is no point in going to farewell him as he will be going straight through to the Brabazon Suite and will board his flight from there. We all felt disappointed as we were looking forward to going to Heathrow to thank Bapak and to say goodbye. At that time we had a small, two bedroom terraced house in Raynes Park and we were packed out with our own two toddlers plus a sister who had come down from up north to stay with us for the visit and she had her own four daughters. We got up in the morning and organized breakfast but still felt this disappointment at not going to the airport to farewell Bapak. With no discussion, we found ourselves deciding to go anyway. We were joined by my wife’s sister – not in Subud - wit her two young children and off we went. Three women in long flowing dresses and long flowing hair, myself and eight children of various ages, three in push chairs. No-one had a car so we took two buses and eventually arrived at Terminal three, walked in and stood there wondering what to do next. Suddenly I strode forward and went up to the Information booth and asked for the location of the Brabazon Suite. “Are you with the Indonesian party?” I was asked. “Yes,” I replied confidently. “okay” she said “you see that big doorway over there – go through there, then through the office to the door opposite then down the stairs and you’ll see the Suite”. The “big doorway” she pointed us to was a customs security area with yellow and black stripes and NO ENTRY signs prominently displayed. So off we went. A long line of women and children led by a long haired young man. We went through the security entrance, stared at by bemused and uniformed men, and found ourselves in a large open plan office. I could see a door across the other side of the room and I asked “Is that the way through to the Brabazon Suite?” . “Yes, go through there, then down the stairs”. So we all threaded our way through the office, round the desks, excited children chattering away and push chairs banging into desks. We opened the door and went down the stairs on the other side and came to another door. We went through and found ourselves on the tarmac, among the planes and refueling trucks. We could see a set of big wire mesh gates, firmly closed, with several security guards manning them. On the other side, was a large crowd of our Subud brothers and sisters who we waved to. Turning round we saw a sign saying “Brabazon Suite”. We went up to it, opened the door and streamed in. We found about twenty or so high ranking Subud members in there in a sort of tiered room. At the bottom sat Bapak and Ibu with, I think, Usman as translator. Bapak looked up at us all standing there, while heads turned in consternation at this invasion. One of the men at the front got up and started to come up the stairs. Bapak smiled and beckoned me down. I went and sat in the now vacant front seat, followed by a swarm of children. In front of Bapak was a low table covered in goodies. The children fell upon these like locusts, laughing and chattering. Bapak seemed very pleased to see us all and sang us a song. So Bapak had invited us to come and visit to say goodbye and thank him and we were all very happy. Thank you, Bapak. PS – My wife’s sister also came in and witnessed the whole thing, even though she was not opened. She was opened shortly thereafter. - - - - - What a Difference a Day Makes! By Valentine Narvey At the end of my first year in Subud, I was a young college student in Montreal, I remember standing in my apartment one day, and an inner voice spoke to me and said, "Up until yesterday, you could have walked away from Subud. But as of today, you are in it for the rest of your life." And in a half-joking way, I thought, "Why didn't you tell me that yesterday?" - - - - - The Older I Get By Sebastian Paemen The older I get, the more I am becoming aware of the truth of the message which all the religions, prophets, saints and sages, incl. Bapak, have always spread about this world, that this is a place where we are being tested. A lot of it is fake and illusion and meant to tempt us. Everything is about something else. We are constantly bombarded by things which distract us from being close to our Creator and being good to our fellow human beings. These things disguise themselves as attractive and worthy while in fact they bite back at us and bring us down if we fall for them. |
There is of course great opportunity for growth in this when we are strong enough and are able to see through this performance the lower forces constantly put up around us. It never ends until the day we depart from this world. In the meantime we keep on going, learning and stumbling and learning. And yes, the Merciful, Compassionate One is always ready to graciously pour His blessings over us. Particularly after we have been through difficult times. It's during these moments of blessing that life feels more real. - - - - - Bapak, A Loving Father By Anonymous On many occasions Bapak directly helped me by being like a loving father. I had been a sensitive child born into a dysfunctional family and was disturbed by my childhood. As a result I grew up with low self-esteem, behaviour issues and eventually became self-destructive and rebellious. Both my parents as well as my mother's extended family were Communist and Atheist; my mother was rebellious, liked to protest angrily and be arrested and it was her declared intention that my two siblings and I would also be Anarchists. However; Almighty God had other plans. My siblings, a Social Worker and a Psychologist, turned out to be good citizens with child welfare uppermost in their hearts. As for myself, from the age of five I wondered why I was here, had an awareness of being part of a universal consciousness, had a thirst for the Divine and so joined Subud in my twenties. The first time I saw Bapak in person was a visit he and his party made to Leicester; I'd been open a couple of years and as one of the few members living there, it fell to me to find a meeting hall and arrange things. I was enthusiastic to help and in the rented hall, I remember laying old second hand carpet with the help of two others and finding it difficult to get it right, when suddenly I felt Bapak come right into me to help with the task and then it miraculously fell smoothly into place! On the first night we'd arranged Coca Cola on the table in front of Bapak, but nothing to open it with. Oh dear. In those days it was not in screw top bottles. Bapak announced "No Coke, no talk" and I raced around the members many of whom searched their pockets and eventually something was found which would open it. In those days, Bapak always had his Coca Cola and he also smoked Kretek, a clove smelling Indonesian cigarette. Apparently on one visit, an overhead NO SMOKING sign in a rented hall suddenly dropped to the floor when Bapak lit his first cigarette. The way I was dressed reflected a rebellion against society which was eventually cleansed from me, but at that time, in contrast to all the members in suits and ties, there was I with long hair, beads, gold boots and flared trousers. I was about to take my seat, when from the podium Bapak's voice boomed out in English, "Don't dress like Tarzan." Nobody laughed though this description was quite funny. Bapak was helping me but I couldn't see that yet. In my case it took a long time for the inner to touch the outer. (Bapak's words 'Don't judge, you don't know what is in the ancestry. All men are the same in front of God' 76 CDK 06 spring to mind as I write) At the end of that visit, because Bapak and party were to depart from Manchester Airport, a friend took me there on the back of his motorbike. Although I wasn't on a committee or a helper or anything, I was straight away asked by one of Bapak's party to push Ibu's wheelchair and was in the process of doing that, when a helper came along and took over from me saying that somebody who isn't a helper shouldn't be doing it. Bapak witnessed this and soon after, in the airport, as if by sleight of hand he seemed to become invisible to everyone for just a few seconds (though I was still able to see him) and during those seconds, he beckoned me to come inside the room, conspiratorially told me (in Dutch) to sit down and we had a chat in that language. How did Bapak know I'd learned Dutch? He seemed to know everything. The years passed and Bapak visited again. In a group latihan, I was having a strong experience in which I was suffering greatly. My eyes were open and I looked at Bapak who was doing latihan with us. He glanced at me and with just that glance, released me from the experience. During that visit in a very subtle way, Bapak indicated a country I should move to and soon after that I travelled to Cilandak for the first time, arriving in the evening while a celebration was taking place. Seeing me, Bapak patted the seat beside him indicating that I should sit there, which I did. This was not usual and I believe it was for the benefit of those who needed to learn something, but of course Bapak was also being kind and fatherly. On my way to Indonesia I'd purchased a little Muslim plaque with Allahu Akbar on it and gave it to Bapak as a gift. It was rather humble and made of tin so had become a little bent on the way, so imagine my surprise and delight many years later when I returned to find that Bapak had actually kept that humble gift which I saw in his home. Finally, many years after Bapak died, I went alone to Suka Mulia where he is now buried and while I was there, Bapak asked me never to return, explaining that he did not want his grave to become a place of spiritual pilgrimage. - - - - - God’s Love By Anonymous I was opened in 1965 at age 25 so am now old and a little frail. For the past year, I've been having heart-warming and delightful proof of God's love through the kindness of people. I certainly don't see myself as somebody deserving of this, because the early part of my life was highly dysfunctional with loose morals. Could such a person expect kindness and love in later life? It seems that He can. God's love is infinite. I love Him, I always have and He loves me. Bus drivers feature strongly in this show of love from God. They seem to be His representatives at this time and with amazing synchronicity, I have all sorts of astounding experiences with buses and their drivers, which make me feel showered with love. For example, I stand at a bus stop and within about three minutes, along comes just the right bus. Usually I don't know the timetable and can't read the small print at the bus stop, but once I did have that information and because I walk slowly, I knew that I was five minutes late. Yet along came my bus and the driver apologised for being abit late. Amazing. Then, one day, as though I needed further proof, it escalated monumentally and God started showing off! I was the last person on the bus and the driver asked where I live; then to my amazement, he didn't stop at my bus stop, but turned a corner and went weaving that long bus through narrow winding streets and deposited me at my front gate! Well! I've since been taken right to my gate not fewer than three times by different drivers. The locals must be wondering what is going on. I wonder if all this love has something to do with an inner task which fell to me after I was opened? At the time, I didn't seem to have a choice about it and I admit that for a long time I didn't like it. After all, I brooded, other men had noticeable and praiseworthy duties in this world. However; when I married and told my wife about it, she immediately assured me that I should be honoured to have this task. After that I felt better about it and am so used to my inner doing this, it's rather automatic. It just happens. I get used like nudge, nudge. I could be in a meeting or having a conversation with someone and it just takes place without anybody else knowing. An exception was the few occasions in which I was in Bapak's presence. He was aware of all this. So what was the task that was given to my younger self in the 1960s? It is this: Spirits who have recently left their host and can't find their way home--people I've never even known--come to my inner and are re-directed successfully to the Light. It's happening right now. - - - - - Discovering the Light in my Life By Halim Korzybski I see my life as one journey to find God in my everyday life. It all started in Poland under the communist regime, when one had to be obedient to dictators to survive. Born during the war, loosing my father in the underground Warsaw uprising when I was six months old, my mother was forced to send me to orphanage to make her own living. After finishing school, as a student, I was lucky to be able to leave Poland and reach NYC with only five dollars in my pocket, to experience American freedom. Luckily, I was accepted, tuition-free, by an architectural school in Manhattan, where I started the search for my true identity in arts, architecture, philosophy, religion, culture, and so on. Again, I was very lucky to find the latihan of Subud, and soon started my own enterprise in order to apply my individuality in design and construction projects. After 30 years working in my own design/build practice, I left the USA to bring my children back to our roots, with the hope that I was now strong enough to face our Polish history and our wounds, and to be able to forgive and be grateful to our ancestors for what they had achieved. I started to look for a location to build a retreat and natural wellness center and, again with luck, I found an ideal site in the south of France. The property was already under contract to be sold, but a month later the buyer withdrew his offer and I was able to step in. Luckily again, I was able to sell my house in the USA and a property in Poland, allowing me to buy and renovate this old farm in the Pyrenees, creating the La Source retreat, that has hosted many people over the last 17 years. From the perspective of time, it became clear to me that all that luck during my journey – from the oppressed, heavy situation in Poland, to the release and openness in NYC – was always in God’s arms. The timing, being in the right place, all this happened through His support and guided my evolution along the way. There were all the necessary lessons I had to go through to become stronger to face the next step; and I am very grateful that I was willing and able to follow my receiving. And now to my project in Poland. The timing was crucial to be able to undertake this big project; to have enough money to begin; to have the vision; to recognize the content and have the trust and courage to follow. Wilczyska was the seat of my family for over 200 years. After being used and ruined by the communist regime, it was returned to me after over 70 years. Now it is being converted into a holistic wellness center. It is a manor house set between two spring-fed ponds, within an ancient park surrounded by forests and meadows – an ideal location for its future use, to support people in their healing process. I hope that this place that holds so much history and the memories of many wars, invasions, love and forgiveness throughout the ages, with its natural beauty, will be a special place that could bring us closer to God in our lives, and facilitate our own healing. This project represents the culmination of my life's effort: it has helped me to see and understand my evolution and discover the light in my life. Once completed, Wilczyska will become a gift to my ancestors, an expression of my gratitude and forgiveness – during a time when we have lost our connection with God and the true content of life. Now when I wake up each the morning I know who to thank for my next day. - - - - - |