Mountain Girl

Per  miei lettori che parlano italiano, visto che il libro e' solo in lingua italiana.

Labels: India, Mountain, Osho, walking

I have moved all the Miracle of love blog post to a dedicated site.
You can find this article on the new blog here: 

My life with miracle of love  (8)

You can still read the comments made on this blog here.

Labels: death, Miracle of Love, Osho

A few days ago I found out that Tim Guest died last Summer, on the first of August 2009. He died at the young age of 34 of a heart attack. And I felt extremely sad when I read this news.

Right after the bomb explosion in Poona in the German Bakery, I had an impulse to google for Tim Guest' s name. His book was in my hands again in the last days and I wanted to know how his journalist career was unfolding.
I never met Tim Guest aka Yogesh. I was never in Medina, I only knew his stepfather Martin -previously Sujan- because he was one of my teacher in the Rebalancing Advance Training in Amsterdam '86 and I worked for a while in his studio in London in '91.

Tims autobiographical book is the story of a remarkable childhood as the son of a sannyasin woman, who was one of the commune leader in Medina. "My life in Orange" - 2004 is considered one of the best autobiographical account of the decade in his obituary in The Guardian and in my humble opinion I agree completely.
I read the book in 2005, when I was immersed in my process to undo the harm of my participation both in Miracle of Love and in the world of Osho sannyasins. I already wrote my thoughts on other books written by ex-sannyasins (Hugh Mine, Kate Strelley). Now I finally put down a few words about Tim Guest' s book.

First thing I thought was, if one day I will write a book about my own involvement in spiritual groups I would love it to have the wit, humor and plain truth of Tim Guest's book. He writes from the eyes of the child he was and describes brilliantly how it was to grow up with so many people who were pursuing the dream of enlightenment and experiencing a community lifestyle of love light and laughter.

I praise him for the literary achievement and for the honest recollection of his own experience. Beyond the dream, beyond the illusion of perfection and freedom.
Let the kids speak what they felt in the commune time. This is how it felt, if you are humble enough to hear that not everything was a horn of plenty in the world of Osho. Not at all!!

Osho sannyasins are ever so often ready to put the blame on the individual, whenever someone is asserting his opinion, voicing his doubts, questioning Osho's teaching or simply saying how different is his/her experience from the main stream devotee.
But if there is some good to gain then it is all because of the Commune lifestyle, because of the outrageous and visionary teaching of the Master Bhagwan/Osho.
This is a kind of a black and white way of looking that characterizes a group as very selective with a "supremacy syndrome" - we/us better then they/them. How arrogant! Certainly Osho sannaysins suffer from the "being special and better" syndrom.
And I indulged into that too, to wake up years later and recognize my shortcomings.

I read an obituary on Tim Guest online from a sannyas website that made me shrink for the lack of depth and foremost lack of respect for who Tim Guest was and how he dared to speak. Not to say about the cheap comments that follow the article.

Personally, I found the book amazingly well written. I can see this little kid running around the commune, looking for his mother, straining his ankle and back to try to grow taller in order to meet someone' eyes and receive full attention to his needs. He didn't have one mother, he had all the women of the commune as his mother, and consequently no one had the time to really take care for the children so they ended up roaming around like in a fairy land of "everything is allowed".
Some time ago, a sannaysin friend who lived in Medina and with whom I shared my thoughts about 'My life in orange', turned to me and said: "I remember that boy running around always so lost. He looked to me so out of place and very sad". She was still defending the commune life and condemning the child. If he was "lost" it was his fault.
I am still disturbed in seeing so many of my sannaysin friends being so 'brain washed', acting aloof and judgmental, while simultaneously professing to be such a caring and understanding person. My friend didn't read the book. Anything that points out defects, contradictions or even is just questioning whether the world of Osho was at all 'sane', is often discarded as untrue or not worth reading. How sad and how one-sided way of life.

My life with Ohso

Your book, Tim, is a must-read for those who have the eyes and a heart to recognize that it was not only a blissful land to live with Osho, whether in his presence or in a commune with his gigantic picture hanging in every room, to remind everyone who was the boss.

Certainly there were moments, at least for me, in my years in Poona (from 86 to 96) when you could feel that everything was possible, that all the limitations are inside your mind, and that if you have a complete trust everything will work out fine. Those were words, ever so often spoken by the average disciple, and at times you could even realized them for real.
Since I left the Ashram in Poona and changed my sannyas name back into my old dear name, I had those experiences maybe even more often then when I was in the Commune, as I had them also before Osho in my solitary walk in the mountain.
Freedom is not limited to following a master or anyone for that matter, the real freedom is in knowing yourself and where you stand.
And Tim in his book is slowly unfolding his journey to find who he really is, searching in his past, lucidly expressing even the most agonizing pain for a child: missing the love of his mother.

From "My life in orange"
-We all want a way out of pain and the fear of death. The way out Bhagwan offered was Enlightenment, but even Bhagwan died. Sannyasin believe he "left his body". But those are just words. Bhagwan snuffed it. He kicked the bucket, jumped the perch, shuffled off his mortal coil. He is an ex-guru. He pulled a stiff one, popped his clogs, booked a One Way Sleeper-Ticket on the Night train to the Big Adios. as the French say: He will have toothache no more'-

I chose this bit, just because I like to wake up from dreams. And in memory of Tim Guest I thank him to have done his part in seeing through the lies.

It was very sad to me to find out about his untimely death, that it took me few days to recover and write about him.
My heart reaches out to his wife, and all of those who survived him.
May you all find comfort.



From Driek on the same book: Reflections on "My life in orange"

Labels: books, death, Friends, Miracle of Love, Osho

Labels: Amsterdam, death, Osho, poetry

How to describe the experience with such a humble Buddhist monk who, at the same time, is the source of inspirational and spiritual guide for all the Tibetan people, a Peace Nobel winner? I can only try to explain how I felt inside while other 10 000 people were going through their unique experience of sitting with His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

It was what he said that touched my heart, and it was how he said it, and it was the silence of his presence and the few minutes meditation at the end of his lecture that filled my essence and brought peace to my mind.
He is a man who walks his talk. And there are no many men that do that. Amongst my inspiration I can list few from Gandhi to San Francis, from Mother Theresa to Thich Nhat Hanh. People who lived their life for the greater good, and truly intensely practicing compassion in every step of the way. Saints or Buddhist monk who walk this earth with a message of love and an example of wisdom in action. Bodhisattva to its fullness.

So much has been written about the Dalai Lama and his message of optimism, never giving up the hope to return to his country as a free being together with all the Tibetan in exile.

I simply love the man. He evokes in me a sense of hope and deepens the message of the Middle Way.
He speaks clearly and simply of the Buddha message and especially bringing down, in the here and now a sense of responsibility in each of us to develop compassion. When fully applied and lived thoroughly these principles could end any war, any anger, any negative emotions. If only men would take the time to investigate their own mind, their motivation, their purpose and their way they carry out actions, there will be less struggle on this planet.
The Dalai Lama was emphasizing that no matter which one is your spiritual choice and religious beliefs, every practice needs enthusiasm, every practice needs actions and determination to deepen a better understanding of the mind - the soul - the Ultimate truth. Call it how you want it.

The Public talk was on "The power of compassion in turbulent times" . You can order any talk given in Amsterdam and in other places at this link.

He commented on Shantideva 's teaching about "The perfection of patience".
10.
Why be unhappy about something
if it can be remedied?
And what is the use of being unhappy about something
if it cannot be remedied?

Is it not wonderful? To let the truth of this statement to be fully realized inside ourselves will bring great peace of mind, lessen the fights, and reduce the worries to ashes. Why not? I believe it is possible to turn the destructive emotions in harmless states of the mind. We only need to learn not be disturbed by it. And if we can learn how to deal with those emotions then we won't suffer from them, we won't be enslaved by the emotional turmoils that clouds our vision and performs wrong doing.

The Dalai Lama words from my notes:

"We all have the ability to turn all of the difficulties, mental problems into something good.
Mental problems come when one hates to face the problem.
When there is more challenge there is also the possibility to have more understanding."

To that I couldn't avoid having a tears tickling down my cheek. After all I am always in rapture when the divine touches my soul/no soul (atma- anatma) in me. Much the same as when I read Hafiz words when the Lover whirls in ecstasy around the Beloved/ God.

How many challenges have I been facing in my life and still am. And how much I learned from it and still am.
At the doorstep of another important change in my life I am humbled by the gifts bestowed upon me and through the pains and aches of my heart and body my happiness is real.
The happiness of the Buddha.

The Dalai Lama and Osho. My life with Osho

I used to sit for so many years in the Buddha hall listening Osho talking about every possible subject. Although I really liked some of his discourses especially on Zen I really didn't appreciate some of his political view he had. In the name of being a rebel, not identified with anything or anybody, Osho spilled often heavy judgments on remarkable and wonderful people. He criticized Gandhi, laugh about the good deeds of Mother Theresa and had the arrogance to even give suggestion to His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

I remember that discourse in Buddhahall in 89, from the series: "No Mind: The Flowers of Eternity", Chapter #8. He talked about the Dalai Lama.
I had a bitter taste in my mouth the day after I sat with His Holiness, thinking about Osho lectures. But I had the sweetest taste in hearing and being with this remarkable man in the Amsterdam Rai the 4 of June 2009.

I've found that discourse and these are the words that Osho spoke:

"I have loved Buddha, and I have loved those who have loved Buddha. I have deep love and respect for Dalai Lama. My suggestion to him is: don't leave this country; just drop the desire to be the sovereign head, the political head of Tibet. In fact, it is not right for a religious man to have such aspirations for being a political head. Just drop that idea. Be an ordinary meditator, a lover of Buddha -- then China will not ask for you. You are being asked for because of your continuous desire to be the head of Tibet again. Too much water has gone down the Ganges; it cannot happen, at least in your lifetime.

But my insistence is that fundamentally your desire is wrong. Tibet is gone, out of your hands. You should have renounced it. Your desire for power is a political desire -- it is shameful in a man who is thought to be a meditator. Just remain in the Himalayas, and nobody is going to trouble you. The trouble is arising within you because of the desire that you want Tibet to be again under your rule.

Forget all about it. It is ugly, absolutely condemnable, to have such a desire. That was the singular message of Gautama the Buddha: don't have any desire in this world; when the other world, the mysterious world, is ready to open its doors you are asking for some illusory power. This shows that Dalai Lama himself is not a meditator.
I would like him not to go anywhere. You have a beautiful place in Dharamsala -- go inwards. It is time that you prove that there is an inner world far more precious than anything the outer world can give to you. And if you cannot prove this, who do you think is going to prove it?

Once he drops the desire and the claim, and he becomes an ordinary, simple human being, China has no interest in him. He can live in the Himalayas -- he is accustomed to living in the Himalayas. "And I say again: nobody is going to behave in a friendly way with you. What can you offer? China offers a tremendous power. You will not get shelter anywhere in the world."

Now I must say, despite the upheaval that my statement will bring up in some of my sannyasin friends, that I am ashamed I sat in Buddha hall and listened to these words. I should have stood up and left. I was young, young and naive. And I was trained to sit and listen in total silence and even if reaction where coming up inside I was supposed to watch them, borrowing the Buddhist way, and not react even when it was going against my better judgment. If I could re-live that moment with the awareness and a bit more understanding of now, I would stand up and leave the hall.

Osho certainly had some insights, however he was a man that really had an attachment in provoking people. He enjoyed to create contradiction tremendously, instigated arguments and generally went against any opinion and ideas but I am not sure if he knew anything about politics. He had a great vision of the new "spiritual man" but he also did not walk his talk!



But yes Osho is after all gone and the Dalai Lama is still here walking his talk. I am in awe and in deep appreciation for who he is and how after so many years he can still stand tall, clear in his mind, not polluted in his heart and still with a vision of optimism that, despite the ugliness forced on his People and his Land, Tibet, he insists in bringing this message of true compassion to this world.

The Dalai Lama still stirs up, after 20 years from Osho's discourse, huge uproar in any country he visits. He brings around the world the issue of human rights, religious freedom, political inter-dependency and a message of love and compassion. He didn't give up and he is still here and not because he is on a "power trip" as Osho accused him but simply because he is a man of words, a man of Good Heart.

Long life to His holiness the Dalai Lama. His favorite quote.

"For as long as space endures
and for as long as living beings remain,
Until then may I too abide
To dispel the misery of the world"

Shantideva

"It is in the salt inside your tears where the divine hides his Love,
it is in the wrinkles of your smile
that peace irradiates joy to your heart "
Milena (June 09)

Labels: Amsterdam, Osho, poetry, Tibet

Dear T.
Thank you for being in my life. May you always be blessed with the gifts of Love.

Also I would like to thank my dearest friend Ma Prem Valeria who rescued the above picture from an old Osho Times newspaper and was so kind to give it to me when in April 09 I visited her.

"May your wings fly in the space of freedom that always reside in us.
And may you always know the sweet friendship that runs between our souls."

In gratitude for your presence in my heart.

Labels: Friends, Osho

Labels: Amsterdam, Friends, Osho, song

At the beginning of January I found an email from her asking if I could pass by at their house.
My heart jumped in joy. And so it started, ...the beginning of the end. Or maybe a new beginning.

Labels: death, Friends, Osho, poetry

My life with Osho

The first time I flew to see Bhagwan/Osho in Bombay I took a KLM flight from Amsterdam, where at the end of '86 I was living.
Amsterdam has therefore a direct link with my life in India. Yesterday at the opening day of the Indian festival in the city, this realization suddenly hit me.

In the years I lived in Poona, in the Ashram (Osho Commune International) I was blessed by so many beautiful events. Somehow I didn't have to go much around, the best Indian musician would come and play for the sannyasin in the beauty of the Buddha Hall. Amongst many celebrities I had the pleasure to enjoy and being entertained by our beloved HariPrasad Chaurasia. He was my favorite. He would come and play with Zakir Hussain whose tabla's rhythm is unique and indisputable to me, the best.
Normally those events would happen in the night, after Osho's discourse when he was still alive or after his video after he left the body. I remember hurrying to grasp something to eat at Mariam canteen or by the Zorba restaurant and then go and find myself a place in Buddha hall. The floor in Buddha hall was made of marble and it the night it could get very cold. Knowing the long preparation before the actual concert I was always keen to have a place where I could stretch my legs and if needed lying down to rest my back. The long tuning was to me a concert in itself. By the time they started the concert the auditorium was sank in profound silence. You could only hear the wind through the bamboo outside the amazingly huge mosquito net. We didn't have walls to protect us from the outside, but I never felt so safe like sitting on that cold marble floor with a tend over us as a roof and the net all around. Amazing place. It is a pity that nowadays who goes to Poona have to meditate in a steel building shaped like a pyramid but still a concrete building. So I am told.
Hariprasad and Zakir Hussain loved to play for us. He used to tell us how grateful he was to be a friend of Osho and therefore to be invited to play for us.
I for sure have sweet memory of those moments.

Hariprasad Charausia

Anyway I was delighted when yesterday evening at the official opening of the Indian festival I saw Hariprasad and Zakir playing together again.
We went to the Concertgebouw to see the Kathakali dance and as a surprise we got the appetizer with my favorite Indian sound. We all became a little older, but his music remains profoundly touching an inner chord that brings who can listen to silent where time can actually stop.
I could enjoy their playfulness, it is one of the most remarkable aspect of these two masters of Indian music, they are not only playing but they communicate with each other with a cheerful nodding and acting together with the sounds of their instruments.
I still have few old tapes of both of them that I bought in M.G Road in Poona.
Now they are on my iTunes so I can hear them whenever I want.

In his long career Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia received many awards. But it was only last night that I ever witnessed such a moment when he was honored by being made officer in the Order of Orange-Nassau.



Kathakali in Amsterdam

What to say about the Kathakali. I think is an experience to enjoy their amazing dances and singing. I wish I could have stayed and watch them all night long, like the performance in Kerala.
This last March when we visited India we missed it, but now I know I want to see more of this spectacular colorful and powerful depiction of the Mahabharata epic one of longest and most revered epic in world literature.
What it makes it so superb is the exquisite variety of facial expression to describe the inner drama of the oldest sacred story on earth. The actors who by the way started to do their
make-up hours before the performance, are not talking, Their costumes weight few kilos however that doesn't prevent their body and faces to dance and move in the most expressive way. The musician and the singers are mostly on the background and they narrate the different scenes in the native language.

As I said it is an experiences to watch them and drink deep within the sweet and spiritual taste
of one of the most loved tradition in India.
I thank the International Center for Kathakali New Dehli who performed last night in Amsterdam for taking me for a short moment in the land I love so much: India.

Labels: Amsterdam, India, Osho

What an amazing book!

To me, that I love India so much, this book has everything I am so much fond of.

It plays in an apartment block in Bombay ( Mumbay) in the span of 48 hours.
During this time Vishnu, the "every job" walla, is going through his process of dying, meeting in the delirium of the last moments of his life the people who really counted: his mother, the girlfriend hooker Padmini, Kavita, a girl from the flat above his landing, and of course all of the Hindu deity, from Laxmi to Krishna. In the time that Vishnu is confronting his end, the drama and romance of the inhabiter of the building are played out to its fullest.

The author Manil Suri is describing an Indian universe in the personal story of each family members that lives in those flats.
You find in there a Bollywood style marriage proposal and of course the drama of elopement.
Two housewives' constant quarrel and bickering over the only one kitchen they need to share.
The widower on the top floor who after having lost his young wife turns to a solitary life with glimpses of spirituality to overcome the immense grief while endlessly playing his dead wife's favorite album.
To top it off Mr Jalal, the Muslim father, dreaming a path to liberation proclaims to everybody that Vishnu is not an ordinary job man but a god that has appointed him to spread the good news to the world.
Therefore to complete the picture of life in India we have, regretfully, the perfect mob between the Hindu and Muslim families, who are trying to understand each other but the weight of century of conditioning are difficult to bare.
Oh poor beloved Gandhi!

Vishnu ultimately is left alone to die on the staircase of the building, while some family are fighting who should pay the ambulance or the doctors. But no one is in fact assisting or taking care of him while he is dying.

The author writing is captivating, alive, witty and full of the Indian flavor I love so much. His characters are so deeply and wonderfully human and the acuteness in describing the many social differences and conditioning of real India is to admire.

My life in Poona

I remember one time on the way to MG road by bicycle I saw a beggar completely immobile on the street. I stopped and look around if someone was going to help. I myself didn't now what to do. The stench that arose from her lying position was so overwhelming that it paralyzed any good intention on my side to bend over and try to help her. Also in the Ashram we were told to keep away from beggars. In fact you could have gotten into trouble to touch a dying person. Police may harass you. You don't mix with the karma of a person, so they say.

This happens 20 years ago, but I believe it is till happening right now in the 21century in certain areas of India.
More and more the volunteer work founded by Mother Theresa and other association has been devoting to take care and "collect" the dying persons from the street and bring them in a more human environment to die in warm and loving hands.

My heart reaches out to all those who are actively working and caring for the dying.

Labels: books, death, Osho

This won't be a travel blog entry. You find many of those on the web. I visited a lot of wonderful places, swam in the warm Arabian sea, walked through tea plantation in Nilgiri hills, cruising with a private boat the luxurious Backwaters and admired the famous fishing net in Kochi, but I want to talk about the India I met in these three weeks. The India I love so much. By the way it felt more like 3 months.








Yes indeed because India is intense. What happens in an hour condenses the energy of 2 hours, even when you stroll under palm trees the very act of balancing your weight on your feet becomes an exercise in awareness. Because if you don't, you may stumble in a cow shit, or occasionally an huge elephant dump, you may hit a rock with your toes or simply you turn around to decide if that beggar is worth of your bhikṣā, Hindi translation for alms.
Or you have to skillfully avoid the next hawker or shopkeeper trying to convince you to buy his merchandize and buy pretty much everything, otherwise they won't really notice you.

I love India, even when at times it becomes unbearable and I scream out of my eyes please enough!
Enough of the noise that for nights in the row disturbed my sleep in Upper Coonoor. We thought it was a peaceful place and indeed it was. It was the end of the Hindu festival that was taking place in the market place down in Coonoor. All night puja, drumming on tablas and anything else you could bit on, chanting and praying the Lord. When finally at 4 am they would stop, the near by mosque started its prayer, its loudspeakers screaming out Allah’s name...
When that was over, the familiar sounds of the church bells were cradling me into morning, with just few hours of sleep. The bells were the only ones that lasted only couple of minutes.

Don't you love that? Where else in the world you can see a church, a mosque and a Hindu temple in the same square.




(though honestly, these three photos were not taken in the same place - not that we didn't see them in one spot, but Driek said they were impossible to get into one photograph)

Labels: Friends, Osho, poetry

I just came back from ten beautiful days in my gorgeous mountains in Italy, though this time I spent most of my hours, arranging my wedding. Ooopsss, I didn't know I could be such a wonderful wedding planner. But boys.........only for me and only once in my life!!!!

My darling one left for couple of days and I closed myself in our apartment painting my house, once again, with the color of the sun.
Music always accompanying me and having to digest some news I heard on my trip back to Amsterdam, I chose one of my favourite singer and composer of my spiritual part of life Peter Makena. He has a voice that touches your heart, to say the least. And he is a kind of poet I like to sing with and listen.
Particularly yesterday and today I put on repeat the song You are a flower, which I sang so many times in Poona. I shared very precious moment with the singer and poet italian Dipamo aka Manu. He used to play on his guitar this song again and again, for me. We were in love and together we were singing our love, joy and devotion to Love, maybe personified in Osho, but ultimately it was just love. The same love that you hear whispering through a hollow bamboo.
Osho was a man of freedom and you could truly be yourself in his presence and around.
He was indeed a Flower of a friend.




This song always brought tears to my eyes and it did yesterday too. The incredible experience of living in the Ashram and singing together made me once more aware of how blessed I was, to have lived a part of my life with Osho.
I used to sing in Buddha hall just for the joy of singing, feeling my heart, my connection with the divine spirit, the Buddha within, with Jesus, with the ancient Masters who walked on this earth, my dear St. Francis, with God's presence pulsating in each note.





(The same I cannot say for the years spent in Munich and San Diego with the people of the Miracle of love group/cult. But today I don't want to talk about that.)

Today I want to thank Peter Makena and his incredible and evocative music, to had me dive into a part of my past that has truly shaped my inner being and gave great joy to the adventure of being alive. It is like walking up the mountain and feel closer to God the Almighty the Supreme, the Love of all, the Purity of Silence.
Once you experience that you will never forget!
Music has the power to take you inside where only you know the secret entrance to the exquisite garden of your heart.

My future husband Driek, the angel of my life is organizing a concert on the 20th of July.
I am looking forward to sing with you Peter and Aneeta in Amsterdam .

May peace be with you, always.

Labels: Friends, Miracle of Love, Osho

I have moved all the Miracle of love blog post to a dedicated site.
You can find this article on the new blog here:  My life with miracle of love  (2)

You can still read the comments made on this blog here..

Labels: Miracle of Love, Osho

"Holy Cow" is the title of a book from Australian writer Sarah Macdonald.
And "India my love" would be the title of my book if I would write one about my experiences in India.

I enjoy very much reading about my dear country where I spent so many years hardly outside the gate of Osho Commune International, although I didn't like her style of writing, the cynicism about herself, about the land that hosted her and about the Indian people.
I was never really backpacking through India, however, I visited quite few beautiful places especially Himachal Pradesh and Utter Pradesh, Gangotri, Rishikesh, Dharamsala, McLeod Gunj, and of course Goa, being just one night bus ride away from mad Poona. Goa was for us sannaysin the holiday resort from our "spiritual life" in the Ashram. Moreover I can say that my focus of search was definitely more "the inside". That is why I feel so good in the mountains, whether they are the Himalayan stunning height or the sensuous beauty of the Maddalene mountain in my valley in Italy. You are left alone when you go inside yourself, and you are alone when you climb the mountain top.

Sarah has all along a bitter taste and incredible alienating sense of doubts and utter dryness. She makes one step forward in the discovery of her inner world and two backwards, exchanging faith and trust with anger and resentment and back to doubt. But yet again, how to define success or failure in the journey to oneself?
By the way, is this the Australian way? Then I am glad I don't live there.
They may have incredible space in the vastness of their country, as she often describes it in her book but I guess even there you can lose your way, inside and outside.

However she has a sense of humor or in fact sarcasm that brings some lightness to the "all too serious spiritual seeker" if only they would read her book. Amongst the many adventures to find some peace of heart, she describes with utter nudity the intense agony of a mind that doesn't want to give up control in every sense and its constant judgements.
But after all who am I to criticise her experience, I fought already enough, against all of the New Age bullshit, and the self declared "only path to God", like the Miracle of Love cult, that I am left with a good belly laughter and a deep sense of being rooted in myself and my own belief. I can take another way of rebellion too!!

There is another book on the subject that touched truly my heart. The author Tiziano Terzani (Tuscany 1938-2004) an Italian journalist and writer tells in his book "Un Altro Giro Di Giostra" his experience around the world and especially in India, in search for a cure of the tumor that effects him.
Instead he finds himself.
He ends up in Himalayan writing it all down in one of the most compelling book about life, death, spiritual journey and acceptance of ones mortality, with no drama and no misery. About him I would like to write more another time. The way he describes his adventure in India would be close to my way. Maybe because he was Italian, maybe because I love Tuscany too, but his depths mixed in with an healthy and familiar sense of humor brought a smile and tears to my heart. Also I believe too, to quote him: Peace need to be found inside.

India my love

Below you can see a picture of me and my darling aja, my cleaning lady, Mary in the garden of my house in Poona. She spent many hours the 31 of December 1988 braiding my hair for the N.Y.party, drinking chai together and chatting about womens matter. How much I loved her to be just the way she was, so very Indian and a catholic one too.

Labels: books, Miracle of Love, Mountain, Osho

It happened many years ago, still the memory of this day is hitting hard in my body, mind and soul.
I just came back from Italy where I spent 3 weeks in my valley, surrounded by the "Maddalene" mountains with my family and my dear friend Lorena.
On the 8th of January 2007 I had an exchange of emails with her. Below is what we wrote to each other.

Dear Lorena, today is exactly 23 years from the day I was hit by a car, driving madly into my body at 90km.p.h.
I am feeling a melancholy and a deep sadness that doesn't want to leave me.

I went out to walk along the Amsterdam canals, just because today the sun is shining after a few days of horrible weather. Not even the walk, away from people in the most "picturesque" area of the city, helped me.

This too, 8 of January, will pass, just as I've overcome many others but overall I got over "sister Death", who that evening made a mistake and left me here, on planet earth, to sooth the wounds and to continue this adventure at times bitter, sometimes sweet, of living.

Hereafter all, I am happy even when the tears knock in my eyes and my smile disappears behind a thoughtful silence.
Sending you a hug, Milena

Few hours later I got her reply.

My friend, I was feeling you today, I open the email to write a thought and .....here you are.I am next to you, I feel you in this moment and I remember with how much pain you faced your 20th anniversary. It seems that we must die to be reborn again, isn't it?

You are wonderful, beautiful when you smile, and also when you are pissed off and say what you think.
To me you are perfect the way you are, I always have so much to learn. We are so different and is beautiful that we love each other.

I thank God, for that day He spared your life, allowing you to live and decide for yourself new roads, taking you to a wandering destiny, rich of experience and inner knowledge.
It was an important part of your life, mamma mia! Very painful, incisive and definitive.
Celebrate this day my darling one, I am with you. I will light a candle tonight on my way back home in the beautiful church of Cavareno. I will think of you and a prayer will fly for you, for me.
with love Lorena

On the same day I received a scan of an old picture which traveled around the world in the sannyas circle. I was searching for this image for a long time. A dutch friend of mine, Virendra, sent it to me, just when I was crying and releasing the profound sadness of this day. It brought back a smile!
This picture was made during the Mystic rose meditation in '89 in Poona by a very sensitive photographer, Paul Kalkbrenner.
I am lost in an inner laughter. The laughter of the miracle of being alive!



At the end you will see the same "me" in the crying part of the Mystic rose.
How much I cried, how much I laughed and moreover how much I enjoyed the silent part, when every feeling and emotion melt in a pond of crystal clear awareness.
Only the rhythm of my breath....to remind me of my life.



Both are symbolic on a day like this and speak by themselves!

Labels: 8 January 84, Osho

For lovers of conspiracy theories this is a great book to read.
For lovers of truth that is also a great book to read.
For someone who wants to know what went on behind the curtain Brecher is providing a great work in unveiling many of the dark secret in the US government and also the Vatican church, although he was refused an interview with, at that time in '89, Cardinal Ratzinger unless Brecher would submit all of his questions in writings, months in advance.
Max Brecher is interviewing sixty persons for his facts-finding research. Including most of the official involved in the case and some others who were supposed to execute the "dirty job" of either killing Osho or even worst to bring down the city in the desert. Towards the end of '85 a bloody invasion of the ranch was practically inevitable, says the writer.

Having joined the sannyas movement at the end of'85 I only heard stories from friends who were at the ranch, from Osho himself speaking in Poona 2 about the Ronald Reagan's America and what I read in the international newspaper. So I made up my own mind and opinion which finds some common ground with the content of this book.

The author did a great job investigating so many people directly involved with Osho's arrest and the endless prosecution that the sannyasin had to undergo in their time in Oregon. Although the author maintains a tone of neutrality it is obvious that more then once is on the side of Osho, protecting, defending, even assuming things to save his honor, to rescue his name, to paint his image with the color of innocence.
But as far as I know he was never a disciple, more of an amateur of Osho teachings. In that I lack the salt and the personal experience of someone who lived through the Rajneeshpuram time. He is disregarding both Hugh Milne and Kate Strelley book as if only what he writes is the only truth.
The approach to his book is definitely journalistic, not to take away anything to this work category, he shows very little understanding of the most delicate dynamic of a life with a Master.
But, after all, he states that clearly: "....there can be no doubt, reasonable or otherwise, that there was a conspiracy of the United States government and nearly every breathing official on every level in the States of Oregon against Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh and the city-commune of Rajneeshpuram". And he succeeded in demonstrating the facts.
The book ends with detailed reconstruction of Osho's last appearance life in Buddha-hall on January 17 and the burning of his body on January 19.
"Life in the ashram went on with a tangible sense that Rajneesh hadn't gone anywhere, that death was exactly what he said it was: The greatest fiction."

I was there all through the night holding my belly after a surgery I had just the day before, feeling empty in my body, heart and spirit. Yes, indeed, life went on even without Osho, maybe for me for too long.....,till I left Poona in '96.

Labels: books, Osho

I read this book also recently and after ‘The Ultimate game’.
Written by the former bodyguard of Bhagwan, known as Shiva, this testimonial deserves not to be forgotten.
Needless to say the uproar this book provoked was not quite objective to the reality.
When the book came out, a year before the one by Kate Strelley, Hugh Milne was already an outcast, a dissenter, an ‘unreliable witness’: ex members are seen as evil.
It was easy to lay tons of judgment on him and dismiss his book as a pathological expression of his anger and grudge against Bhagwan and his organization.
I am writing here my perception and my view and how much I disagree with those critics of Hugh Milne’s book. Maybe some of his statements are not completely true, but I am no one to say that.

First of all, Hugh was the first one to describe the initial stage of Bhagwan work starting from Bombay when he arrived in ‘73 where western sannyasin were only a handful. He tells the story of the famous Mount Abu camp meditation, and the experience of the commune Kailash in the pampas of majestic India. The move to Poona and the building of the Ashram structure together with the hierarchical power structure till he left together with the master and Sheela for the US. And there the story goes on, his way.

Maybe more then Kate Strelley’s book this one is describing the torturous and blissful path of becoming a disciple, of his love and devotion and his attachment to those meditative states he was finding it.
‘This meditative state was incomparably beautiful and worth anything. Those who dismiss ‘cults evils’ have no idea at all how rapturous this state can be, and how no other pleasure can begin to compare with it.’ (H. Milne, God that failed)

The thoroughly introspection and narration of his path to become one Bhagwans closest disciples, being not only his photographer but also his bodyguard, living in the Master's house, provides the reader with an opportunity to learn about ‘stories’ of the Bhagwan inner circle, that would be otherwise lost.
He witnessed and foremost had a part in some of those stories.
Why should I not believe what he writes?
I can, yet again, recognize many of the same persuasion techniques and influences in my own experience in Poona 2. I have my shares of ‘stories’ from the time I was working in the Ashram from 87 to early 96. The power trip didn’t finish with Sheela or Deeksha or even Shiva. They just became more sophisticated although not in anyway harmless.
On the contrary!

This doesn’t change my experience with Osho and what I went through with him. The ups and downs of devoting your life to such a Master were full of unpredictable surprise, some of them took you into bliss and some into hell. However, understanding one's roots, the reason of our search and the roots of whom we decided to follow in the ‘here and now’ that he preached, is a must for self realization and self love.
I can only say humbly that for me, Osho was the perfect man to be with in a time of my life where nothing else was worth living for. The multi-faceted dimension of the art of living I had the fortune to experience in the last 3 years of Osho’s life gave me the opportunity to make the impossible possible and to discover in the magic of his presence, the mystery of the unknown. But it was not only that!

There are some points in Milne’s book especially during the US adventure where he starts to feel his dependency from the commune and friends and at the same time he is realizing that something was not quite right anymore. If ever it was.
The split between the desire to leave Bhagwan and his attachment to the sannyas lifestyle and friends increased over the months, after the arrival in US. His positions and status over the time and because of the numerous arguments with Sheela, changed radically at the ranch. He was forced out of Lao Tzu, the Masters house, and had to work long hours on a bulldozer, like any other ordinary rank sannyasin, to build paradise in the desert. To me, that would be enough to make me think what the hell am I doing here!
Many years later I went through a similar psychological abuse and punishment game in another group I became involved after Osho, The Miracle of Love. So, I recognize the anguish and the mindfuck that goes on in those moments, where your dreams are slowly and painfully breaking, you perceive yourself wrong no matter what you do, your own critical thinking surfaces and tells you: “something is wrong here!". But by then, you have become such a true believer that it is hard to listen and recognize your inner voice.
Possible, but not easy.

Good for him that he left, although he needed to go back to the ranch one more time before the final adieu to Rajneeshpuram.
He writes: ‘As soon as important people left or a commune was disbanded, the truth became twisted and altered. Historical revisionism was becoming quite a sannyasin art form, perhaps to replace the now-forbidden one of gossip.’
Not only that, I would add, but you became a traitor and a ‘non existing entity’ you are wiped out of the group/cult world.

His change of perception of Bhagwan was interesting to read for me. Over time in the ranch, Hugh became disillusioned and through that state he started to see his master, in his words, "without my disciple's conditioned vision".
Suddenly the man he adored and guarded for so many years became ‘a lost soul’.
The painful experience in this change of perception and inner reality is great, and no one has the right to disregard the impact of this level of soul betrayal, regardless Bhagwan “innocence” or not.

To conclude I want to demonstrate how the same fact was interpreted in a very different way. I would say opposite. Both are valid and true experiences, not better or worst, just different.
From Milne’s book:
"As I watched Bhagwan on television in shackles and wearing handcuffs I saw a worn, lost, disillusioned look on his face”.
My own experience few hours later watching the European news:
"As I watched Bhagwan in television in shackles and wearing handcuffs a thought cross my mind and pierce through my heart: If the boat is sinking I want to be on that boat."
In that moment I decided to become a sannyasin, after having been one of Bhagwan’s admirers for more then a year.
My father commented, I told you that man was a creep. I slammed the kitchen door, and called Miasto, the sannyas commune in Tuscany.

Everyone that shared in this adventure has had his own way of recalling, lest to speak about it.
Some decided to speak up and not be afraid of the consequences that our opinion may bring. For that I thank Hugh Milne, and for his version of the story.
After all Osho preached: “Courage is the very greatest human quality there is", when he was talking about his childhood mischievous acts.
And courage, I say, is not only jumping into a river after a storm, but to stand strong and speak the truth that we know despite of what other may think.

If no one responds
to your call
Walk alone
Walk alone
(Tagore's song)

Labels: books, Miracle of Love, Osho