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The Kindest Man (2)
By Jamil Hugenholtz The man described by Michelle Gill in the last edition of Reminders of Reality is called Khidr. He is an angel. His task is to come to our aid when we are desperate, and his help is always extremely practical. Khidr is also called ‘the Green Man’, green being the colour of our heart chakra. I met him twice. The first time was when I had recently been initiated as a Sufi. As a novice, I tried to put everything I was taught into practice. One of those things was to do Dhikr. It is what you can see Muslims do when they walk around with a string of beads in their hand, moving their fingers along the line of beads. This is to keep count of the number of times you want to repeat one of the Names of ‘Allah silently. I was always losing count, as I did not possess such a string of prayer beads and I was told that in our tradition I would receive one whenever I was ready. One day, I found myself in a throng of people trying to enter a supermarket, while the entrance was apparently blocked. Again, I had lost count and now I was hemmed in between others, when a tall man in front of me turned around, looked me in the eye very urgently and showed his hands while counting on his fingers! I immediately understood that this was the answer to my question. So simple! I wanted to thank the man in front of me, but we had started to move again and were entering the supermarket. As much as I looked, he was nowhere to be seen. The second time was many years later, when I was trying to find a spot to park the car in the centre of Amsterdam. Always a daunting task! However, after driving around the block a few times I found a perfect spot, and I wanted to pay at the nearest parking meter. To my astonishment, the meters had changed. No slot to insert coins and no touch screen to hold your debit or credit card against. I simply had no idea how we were supposed to pay. So, I walked to the end of the street, where I could see another meter, but that one was just the same. My wife’s parents stood patiently waiting on the pavement, but I was slowly going mad. Then I suddenly saw a gentleman walking our way, his eyes fixed on me. When he had reached us, he explained that the only way to pay was by using an App on your mobile phone. I have never been very good at anything technical, happily leaving all of that to my wife, who at this time was not with us. Now this gentleman suggested I should download a Parking App and he told me how to do it. This was simple, but it took a few steps to connect this App to our bank account and to have the Parking App recognise at which parking meter we were standing and to start the payment. All in all, this kind gentleman remained instructing me for at least ten minutes, showing concern about my doing everything on my phone correctly. And rightly so, as I did not have much confidence in my ability. However, with his help everything worked smoothly. I thanked him from the bottom of my heart, and he smiled and turned the corner, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared. I was elated, as I had recognised him as Khidr, and I almost called him by that name, while he step by step filled my heart with gratitude and joy. - - - - - Glowing in the Dark By Anonymous During one memorable Ramadhan, I went to a large department store and as I approached a cosmetic counter, two assistants were standing together talking, with their backs toward me. As I arrived at the counter, one assistant said to the other, “Everything’s gone silent!” I was made aware that the Latihan was enveloping me in a cone which moved with me, so that it was now enveloping them. Three years after we were opened, the latihan was causing me to vibrate so much that my first husband insisted on twin beds because, he said, “You vibrate the bed like a lawn mower when you’re asleep.” Years later, my second husband told me that I glow in the dark after which that phenomenon was switched off and he could no longer see it. He received that actually nobody was meant to see it, but he just happened to have extra sensory awareness. - - - - - A Deep Peace By Anonymous I was on the late shift, starting at 1pm, and I walked to work on a lovely sunny afternoon. A deep peace arose. The world went away. Cars past me as shadows, almost imperceptible. I floated into the workroom and was suddenly overcome with bliss. Then I laughed, uproariously. Bapak was to arrive from Scotland at a main London railway station. The noise was calamitous, with doors slamming, people shouting goodbye, and all the rest. I lurked behind a pillar and as Bapak and two others passed me I hopped on to back of his party, within a yard or so. Within the sphere of Bapak the noise went away. I was astonished. He was walking along in perfect peace. Because I am stupid, I stopped to let him carry on without me. (Just to check.) Then the hubbub of noise crashed back in. I cherish this experience because I COULDN'T EXPLAIN IT. It leant new conviction to my Subud life. - - - - - A Song Received By Anonymous Sometime in the last few days during the last Ramadan, I received a song. The song is very simple, and the words are in English, with a nice happy tune. The words are about praise, or thanks, or love. It is a song from God, and some of the words reflect that, that it is a song from my Father. But the song can be sung for anything. So just as we might pray for our relatives or friends or ancestors, I can do this but in the form of this song. It is a way of sending love to someone and also bringing them before God. It can also be sung about animals, such as pets, or even about my clothes, my house, or my plates and cups when I am washing up. I think if I am singing it for material things such as cups or plates, it is a way of waking them up, but the way I use the song when I am doing chores is that if I am singing it then I am happy about what I am doing and it puts me into the Latihan. Although I received the song during Ramadan, it is something that I have carried on singing when I have the chance but I also have to be in the right state or else it doesn’t feel quite right. I have had one expereince that I believe has been helped through the song. Through my work, I had a disagreement with a man, and afterwards he was quite unhappy with me and if he saw me he didn’t really want to talk to me. I was unhappy about the situaiton and I knew that it was about misunderstanding each other and it would be better if we could work it out and be on good terms again. Although the issue had been resolved, it was like he was colder towards me. So I started including him in my song, sending him love and bringing him before God. The next time I saw him, he stood still and had a big smile on his face. When I walked up to him he gave me a big hug and was very friendly towards me. Things are now fine and peaceful between us and I’m very happy. I also mentioned singing about material things. Something else that happened was that I had a favourite tea cup. So if I sang when I was washing up then it was included in the song. One day, suddenly my tea tasted very bad. I poured out one cup thinking it was the milk. But the next cup tasted bad also. The milk was fine, and tea bags were fine, and tasted ok in a different cup. For two days, I couldn’t drink out of the cup because it made the tea taste bad. On the third day, it broke. I don’t have any explanation. But it is something that happened, and it makes me think that there are a lot of things that we still don’t understand. - - - - - 15.4.2020 The Way of the Ranger By Lucas Horton Humanity sits on the horizon of life, to order what is below and to be a channel for what is above. It is the way of the Ranger to go out into the material universe and to encounter all that there is. I currently live in Ireland, a green and pleasant land on the western fringe of Europe. My wife has ancestry from Greece, an ancient and fertile land on the other southeast edge of Europe. These countries and nations each have a unique culture that has developed as civilisation has ebbed and flowed across Europe. There are King and Queen spirits of these places that do not die, but order, live and influence the fate and direction of life in these places. They could be viewed as minor gods, djinns, and influencers. They are attached to ‘place’, grow out of ‘place’ and live off the energy of all life, but particularly the humans that inhabit their ‘place’. They like to think of themselves as gods, ordering and controlling the life that goes on in their ‘place’. In reality they are low creatures but powerful nonetheless in their own way. And they like war. I have encountered them many times in my life. This is a story about a recent encounter with two of them and it illustrates the role of humanity and the Way of the Ranger. |
My soul or spirit has been around for a long time, going right back before the beginning of this material universe. I have played this role before, incarnating in places and guises ‘walking up and down in the world.’ I am nothing special. I do what I was made to do. I can do nothing else. In the life of the universe, this is the time of Humanity. The universe has been waiting for us to develop and to put on this mantle that we were made to wear and to carry. To go out and to interact with all that there is, and to bring life to the lifeless place. This story relates to the events of a holiday we recently took in Greece. Outwardly it was enjoyable and uneventful, visiting my wife’s family and friends, meeting with new friends, meeting with old friends, swimming every day enjoying the culture, climate and cuisine of Greece in a relaxed atmosphere. Inwardly it was momentous and significant. But that is the mystery of humanity. We do one thing and deliver something else. Flying has been an important part of my life, it is a part of my earliest memories and in my 30s I learned to fly when I was previously living in Ireland. The times of danger in flying are at take off and landing. It is a habit of mine that when I am in a place of danger, I let go, and say ‘so be it, if this is my last day’. This is a ritual I do silently at take off and landing. Maybe it is because I am truly surrendered at these times, the higher forces become aware of me and in that process I sometimes see what is going on from a higher perspective. As the pilots of the aircraft that we were leaving on, pressed the levers to full power and the aircraft started racing down the runway, I closed my eyes and let go. I became aware of this djinn of Ireland and he was asking me what I was doing, leaving the island without his permission. They are quite capable and willing to crash a plane killing everyone on board, rather than lose something of their influence. As we were about to land at Athens airport as the same pilots put out the flaps, deployed the landing gear and feathered the power, I again quieted myself and said ‘ok if it is to end here so be it’, I was confronted by the djinn of Greece panicking and desperately asking what I was doing in his place and what were my intentions. In both of these situations, leaving Ireland and landing in Greece, in the act of letting go I felt the Grace from above come through me and instantaneously these creatures were diminished and put in their place, and I heard within my soul the message that was delivered to them from above. ‘In the end all must come to Grace’. So this is the message we bring to the Universe. It is ours to deliver, to face up to the demons, the devils and all the minor Gods and to be the channels for Grace. - - - - - Bapak's Words By Anonymous As a child growing up in Cilandak, Bapak would often give talks during social events like weddings, birthdays, and other celebrations. For us kids, it was always an exciting treat to be able to stay up late and play outside in the cool night air. With no television and no telephones, our main entertainment in those days was to attend social events at the hall, to play outside and enjoy the food and festivities. One evening, during a big event in the Latihan Hall, my friends and I were playing hide and seek out the front of the hall while Bapak was giving a talk. I was about 7 or 8 years old and not yet of the age where I would be listening or connecting with any of the words of Bapak’s talk. That evening, the main large front doors of the Hall were all open and my friends and I were running around outside and having great fun during the talk. When it was my turn to hide, I found a hiding place behind one of the main front doors of the hall and hid there puffing and panting and catching my breath. As I stood there in the dark behind the door, I suddenly was aware of Bapak's voice over the microphone and I heard his words “After you die, you will regret every single Latihan that you have missed or didn’t attend.” I was only a child, and I wasn’t listening to Bapak’s talk, but as I heard those words at that precise moment, I felt the words go straight into my chest. That was all I heard, and then I ran off and played with my friends again. Even fifty years later, I have never forgotten that experience, and it has had a most powerful impact on my life. Some people might say I’ve always been a bit overzealous about going to Latihan… Even when I have had a good excuse, or a very good reason not to go, and even when my lower forces really, really didn’t want me to go, I still make Latihan my priority, no matter what. Those words I unexpectedly heard as a child are the reason. I’m not saying that this is true for everyone, and I have certainly missed many latihan's for one reason or another, but I believe that I heard those words at that precise moment over fifty years ago because doing Latihan at least twice a week was what I needed most for my life. It was THE most important purpose of my whole life, and the reason I was born. - - - - - I Asked God By Anonymous I asked God to help me be a useful human being And I was taken to the depths of hell and taught to pray I asked God to help me trust God more And I was taken to the edge of a cliff and told to step off it I asked God for strength And I was shown my worst fears and they came true I asked God to guide me And I was taken to places where angels fear to tread I asked God for Courage And I was shown the suffering of the world I asked God to help me surrender more And I was given unbearable suffering until I was truly broken I asked God to fill me with Divine Love And I was given a taste of God’s unconditional love for all of humankind I asked God to have mercy on me and to forgive me And I was shown the dark history of the world, and God’s Mercy and Forgiveness for All who asked I asked God why I was being trained in a way that was not how I expected it to be... And God laughed and told me I was truly loved, and this was how I would grow and become human. So I laughed too, and I knew that all was well. - - - - - 'A Reporter in Subud' by Varindra Vitachi Prologue, Bombay, January 1960. The sitting-room of Bomon-Behram’s apartment on Nepeansea Road overlooking the ocean. Bapak, clad for the tropics in slacks and shirtsleeves, was sitting knees crossed as usual, on a long sofa reading a letter from London. “Another book on Subud,” he remarked smiling. “This letter suggests that Bapak should intercede and stop its publication on the grounds that it contains material which could be damaging to Subud. But why should Bapak interfere? Subud is not Bapak’s work. It is not Man’s work. How can any man damage it? If it can be endangered by man, then it is not from God. And if it is not from God why should Bapak worry?” “I cannot understand,” I said, “how anyone in Subud can write about Subud. I am a professional writer, but I feel I cannot even begin to write about Subud. My understanding of explanations and experience changes every year. How can I possibly pin them down on paper?” “You writer, you better write,” said Bapak, bypassing Anwar Zakir’s services as translator. “Write, Bapak?” I asked, “About Subud?” “Yes, Subud,” said Bapak. “But, Bapak, it will be nonsense!” I pleaded. “Yes,” agreed Bapak, “but better write.” - - - - - |