New Editor, Marcus Bolt.

As I took over as ‘front line’ Editor from Harris, I experienced unfathomable intermittent broadband problems (even the experts were flummoxed; and good broadband is essential to posting an edition of Subud Voice Online). Easy to solve, though, I thought; the line checks out OK, my wiring is all correct, no problems with my server people, so - just go buy a new router. My local PC store has many shiny new routers… unfortunately, the new range is not compatible with my current operating system. OK, no problem, I shall upgrade my computer’s operating system.

No, not possible, no upgrades this time. Macs have now become ‘Intel Inside’. I have to buy a NEW computer… ho hum.

So, my new computer has arrived – a miracle of modern design, I want to just sit and look at it for hours; it’s beautiful and I think I’m in love…  (and – Oh joy! – it has solved the intermittent broadband problems).  So, for once, ‘the angels’ have been good to me, frightening those gremlins off for a while and allowed me just enough time to get everything uploaded by February the first!

WSA Chair Luke at the Australian Congress

Enough of my problems and the minutiae of my life… Following in Harris’ editorial footsteps, we have another  packed edition for you this month. An article by Harris about the Australian Congress and WSA Chair Luke’s visit… an update from Kalimantan by Ridwan Lother… news of a new sewing project organised for World Congress, Mexico, from Isti Jenkins… Livingston Armytage in Pakistan… Sharifruddin’s dream and a chat with Ibu Rahayu… and from associate editor, Ilaina Lennard, a ‘Whatever happened to…? article that we hope will be an ongoing feature (fascinating stuff, by the way)… ‘A test with Bapak’ (from Rozak Tatebe’s book)… ‘My Guidance’, an article from Renee Goetz about her life… an article about Kuswanda’s new book… an excerpt from a talk by Bapak on marriage… and lots. lots more… ENJOY!

Marcus Bolt – email: marcusbolt@easynet.co.uk

A superb Australian National Congress was held in Sydney over the New Year. Never have I attended such a smoothly and graciously organised Subud event full of peace, harmony and vitality. This is how Subud life should always be. A mixture of hard work, outstanding entertainments and enriching human interactions.

There was a real sense of giving and service by the Sydney members who put on this event. And it was so good to see the way the young members pitched in, manning coffee bars night and day, moving chairs around and providing world-class musical performances.

And a most intersting project is emerging from this Congress. Premature to report on it yet, but it could involve a word beginning with K.

Well, I could write 10,000 words about that Congress and all the good that happened, but let me zero in on one aspect which was the presence of our hard-working, world-travelling WSA Chair, Luke Penseney.

Luke delivering his message in Australia

Luke brought a message of renewal, of putting the problems of the past behind us, while not forgetting the lessons that must be learned from them. A message that is very much reflected in the final paragraph of the statement that Ibu Rahayu sent to the Congress. (Click here to download the pdf)

Ibu Rahayu’s Message to the Australian National Congress

Luke also told me of a striking experience he recently had. He was crossing Canada from Toronto to Vancouver and stopped off in Winnipeg. He was staying with a Subud couple who are also Christians. In the morning in latihan, he received the feeling of the need for unconditional love, love without limit and this illumination became the theme in his journey around Latin America which began soon after. (See the .pdf link below)

“A question facing us all,” said Luke, “is how much do we trust God?”

Out of these experiences, he has distilled a series of questions which he has been encouraging people to test. We tested them in Sydney and found them to be very powerful.

How is it when I face Almighty God with the whole of my being absolutely and follow whatever He wills?

How is my trust in Almighty God currently?

How would Almighty God have my trust be in Him?

How currently is my inner courage?

How would Almighty God have my inner courage be?

How currently is my outer courage?

How would Almighty God have my outer courage be?

——————————————————————————–

For a copy of Luke’s Latin American  Journey, click the link:  03_WSAChair-SoAmericaTrip_Nov2011

For a copy of WSA Annual Report,  click the link:  03 WSA2010AnnualReport

For a copy of WSA Executive Report, click the link: 03 WSAExecWiP_Nov11

For a copy of MSF Annual Report, click the link: 03 2010 MSF Annual Report

Ridwan Lowther writes…

Kalimantan Gold Corporation (KGC) has been preparing for a major drilling program to start early in the New Year. Part of this includes completely rebuilding the two drill rigs and drilling some test drill holes.

KGC has established a large staging camp at KM 37 on Jl Cilik Riwut only two kilometres away from Rungan Sari.

Bachrun Bustillo mentioned that during the dry season the existing wells in Rungan Sari sometimes run dry because they are not deep enough only going down to about 20m.

KGC decided to test one of the rigs in preparation for the major drill program in January by drilling a deep reserve water well at Rungan Sari.  The well went down to 44m about 2 m in to granite bedrock. At 36m we hit 0.3m of coal!

Rig in Eastern Park

We are proposing to start strip mining in Rungan Sari in early February….just kidding! The seam is a poor quality coal and is too deep to be economical.

The hole was 4” wide most of its depth and should make an excellent reserve well for the community in the dry season providing a more secure water source. The drill rig passed with flying colours and is ready for the field.

Harris by Mardijah Simpson

FAVOURITE PHOTO

Mardijah Simpson took this photo of Harris Smart at the recent Subud Australia National Congress in Sydney. She says, “I took this photo of Harris singing and it fascinated me how it came out with all these mysterious interweavings, reflections and over-layerings.”

He has worked in more than 30 counties, including many of the world’s most troubled places such as Afghanistan, Cambodia, Fiji, Haiti, Palestine and Papua New Guinea. Places of acute poverty often struggling with national trauma, where political and judicial systems are weak and vulnerable.

His central concern is justice and the challenges of promoting fairness of opportunity and equitable development for the world’s powerless poor. His Ph.D thesis, Reforming Justice: a journey to fairness in Asia, is being published by Cambridge University Press in April.

I’m a specialist in justice reform. My work is concerned with improving the well-being of disadvantaged people who, because of poverty and social inequality, are routinely exploited but denied any access to justice.

In 2001 I was posted with my wife, Miyako, to live in Islamabad, the capital of Pakistan. This was a two-year assignment running an $80 million project for the Asian Development Bank, managing a team of 20 international and local experts. The purpose of this project was to reform the judiciary across Pakistan’s four provinces.

This was the world’s largest justice reform project to date, concerned with building courts and modernizing them with technology, conducting law reform and educating judges, among many other things.

Like most projects, it had its bizarre aspects. My wife and I lived in the smallest house available, which turned out to be a splendid five-bedroom ambassador’s residence. In every bedroom, there was a spa, and each spa was a different colour to suit the owner’s mood or, should I speculate, the ambassador’s fantasy.

We really loved Pakistan, despite now being known as a ‘failed state’. The people are invariably hospitable, gentle and courteous. During our first year, we wrote enthusiastic postcards to all our friends, inviting them to visit and describing Pakistan as the world’s best-kept tourist secret.

Livingston Armytage with Pasthtun tribesmen in remote Baluchistan, 2001.

People think of Pakistan as a hot, flat and arid desert as much of it is, but much of the country is also located in the Hindu Kush, the foothills of the Himalayas. Consequently, there are more of the world’s tallest mountains here than in Nepal, and many more majestic snow-capped peaks than in Switzerland.

Pakistan has a strong sense of history and more recently its colonial past, the world of the British Raj. The world of the “great game” when the imperial powers of Britain, Russia and France played out their proxy wars and power games for influence in Central Asia and control of its resources.

Pakistan is bordered and in many ways defined by India in the east, Kashmir on the north, and Afghanistan to the west; the centre of an unending maelstrom of conflicting global interests.

This was the world of Kim, He Who Must be King and other Kiplingesque adventures. In 1897, Winston Churchill served as a young subaltern in the Malakand garrison near the Khyber Pass between Afghanistan and what is now Pakistan’s North West Frontier Province. How some things never change!

Quetta

On this day, I had travelled to Quetta, the capital of Baluchistan, which is Pakistan’s western province. This trip was to organise an important judicial conference where I worked closely sequestered with the Chief Justice and the judges of the Supreme Court.

Baluchistan is one of the most remote and undeveloped places in the world. It abuts a mountainous border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. This border – the Durand Line – is the troublesome legacy of Britain’s colonial rule, which cuts through the local ethnic group, the Pushtans, who live on either side, contributing to the ongoing tensions in the region.

Pakistan refuses to redraw this contested border because it endows vast natural resources of oil and gas. This is a topical example of historically unresolved issues of justice allowed to fester in the international arena, left to be played out through simmering insurgency and now open armed conflict.

It has been speculated that Osama bin Laden was hiding out in Quetta during this visit. Baluchistan’s remote mountains and valleys have evidently served as a sympathetic environment for Al Qaeda in intervening years.

Oblivious to the portent of this coincidence, I staying in a classically beautiful hotel called the Serena, one of the very few show-pieces of Quetta. It was built, and is owned by, the Aga Khan a philanthropist among other things who supports many worthy initiatives in this area, including many grassroots humanitarian and cultural preservation projects. This hotel is a sanctuary rich in the traditions and the culture of the local Pashtun and Hazara peoples, built in traditional mud-stone and decorated with local tribal artefacts, overlooked by awesomely rugged mountains.

The Storm

On this day, the conference ended and I took the plane back to Islamabad. It is a three-hour flight. Shortly after taking off, we ran into the most enormous storm – the worst that I’ve ever experienced in a plane. It was a massive monsoonal storm which darkened the sky with boiling purple clouds. There was no way around; we had to pass into the darkness. It was an old plane and the weather was really turbulent.

I once knew an aeronautical engineer who explained to me how the wings of planes are designed to be flexible, not rigid. I remembered his telling me that they could flap like the wings of a bird, and laughing in disbelief. I now looked out at the wings of my plane, watching them quiver and tremble, and hoping that what he had said was indeed true.

The plane was being flung around in the darkness, thunder enveloping us, lightning flashing through the portholes. The cabin was dark. When I looked around in the strobing light, all I could see was the terror frozen jerkily on every face. We were abandoned. The crew had fled to their seats, and we were completely helpless.

The flight was passing over the Hindu Kush, above the peaks of the mountains. One of the most frightening aspects of the experience was that occasionally there would be a break in the clouds. Then I could see the ground looming beneath. We were often very close, not miles high up in the sky.

In these ghastly moments, it became altogether simple. There was only one way I could deal with this situation. Our fate was beyond control. It became quite clear: “if I’m going to die today, then this is it.” With this realisation, I was suddenly infused with an unexpected sense of surrender which acknowledged my total helplessness, and relieved me of the fear. All I could do was to sit quietly – almost serenely – which might seem surprising. But on looking back, I now recognise that this was a gift of the latihan.

The Woman

There was a young Muslim woman sitting beside me, who was travelling to Islamabad to attend university.

In Pakistan, particularly in Balochistan, westerner males must be very careful about relationships with women. This is a traditional Islamic society in which conduct between men and women is strictly regulated. It is not appropriate for a westerner to speak to a woman without introduction; and even then, you never shake hands. This is a culture of so-called ‘honour killings;’ physical contact is totally taboo. For western males to work in this society, this taboo must be conformed to.

So, it was quite a shock when as the storm raged around us, she reached out to seize my hand which she held in a very firm grip throughout the remainder of the journey. Finally, when we had passed through the storm and disembarked in Islamabad, I found the imprint of her fingernails across the back of my hand like the stigmata. Instantly, this unconventional encounter dissolved. She was greeted by her family. We did not even say a goodbye.

The Day Something Terrible Happened

As I made my way across the airport foyer, I became aware of an ominous stillness. Crowds of people were gathered silent in rapt attention around the monitors which usually announce flight arrivals. Oddly, these were showing television images. I recognized the New York skyline with smoke billowing from World Trade Center. For a moment, I thought this might be disaster movie. But, this was not an entertainment!

I hurried from the airport to the waiting car. The news was not out, and my driver didn’t yet know what had happened. The drive home took 40 minutes. When I arrived, I called to my wife, Miyako, “Something terrible has happened.”

This was September 11, 2001, the day that the world changed. The storm I had passed through now seems like a prelude, a metaphor, for the “storm” that has overshadowed this part of the world ever since: a turmoil that has engulfed Pakistan and has still not passed.

The situation was immediately very dangerous. The US might immediately attack Afghanistan, as it has just years before under Clinton, with unforeseeable results for everyone in the region. As foreigners, we could become targets. A guard was assigned to our home, armed with a shotgun, who snored blamelessly outside our front window each evening. Shielding was erected against grenades in front of the windows of our office.

After some weeks, we were evacuated to Nepal. Ironically, as we arrived in Kathmandu, martial law was declared and a curfew imposed across the city owing to the Maoist insurgency. It seemed that we may have been much safer in Pakistan.

Despite these local troubles, however, we enjoyed three tranquil months of relative safety in Nepal. I was able to continue to work remotely, and we took advantage of opportunities for trekking around the splendid Annapurna Mountains. We were also fortunate to find some beautiful Tibetan artefacts, one – a five hundred years old carved cover of a Tibetan prayer book – is now displayed in our living-room back in Sydney.

When we returned to Islamabad, the project had completely changed its character. Our funding of $80 million was mysteriously raised to $350 million – an unprecedented sum for a justice reform project on any global measure. In due course, it quietly emerged that this was a reward to the then military dictator of Pakistan, General Pervez Musharraff, for allying Pakistan with the US in the new “war on terror”.

The Pakistan We Loved

In the years which have passed, Pakistan has been torn apart by the consequences of 9/11. Now more than ever, it is seen as a “failed state”. There has been a calamitous impact on the safety and well being of its people, the vast majority of whom are poor apolitical and once again collateral of the new ‘great game’.

The Pakistan we loved has disappeared, at least, for the present. As for our justice project, this has also vanished almost without trace in the ensuing chaos. The world’s largest ever justice reform project has been squandered in the catastrophe. Meanwhile, the injustices and inequities that we were confronting persist. One day, we may be able to return. I do hope soon.

The interview with Livingston on which this article is based was conducted by Harris Smart. He plans to include it in his forthcoming book, Footsteps, about Subud.

Everyone who attended the Christchurch Congress will recall the sewing project that Isti Jenkins organised there.

Many people worked with her to create a banner depicting a visionary landscape more than 7 metres long.

The Christchurch Congress Banner

Now she has a new project for the Mexico Congress. She is inviting artists to submit works around the theme of “Bapak’s life and receiving”. The aim is to exhibit them in Mexico and then to make a selection as the basis for a sewing project.

Interested artists should contact Isti at peterjenkins4@gmail.com

Several years ago Isti organised a sewing project for village women in Kalimantan. This is one of the threads that led to the Microcredit and Sewing projects in Kalimantan.

(To download the report, click here:

12 2011__SDC_report_Kalimantan_microcredit_&_sewing

Béata Delcourt writes from YUM about the progress of this project…

The new cooperative has been running for a couple of months now and seeing the progress of the project, YUM is highly optimistic that the microcredit project will be very successful this coming year, especially as it is now combined with the sewing project.

YUM is extremely grateful for SD Canada’s support to our projects and we wish to thank you once again for your precious help. 

I remain at your service if you require any further information concerning YUM projects in Kalimantan.

Foundation for Noble Work

YAYASAN USAHA MULIA (“YUM”)

http://www.yumindonesia.org/

In Subud we are a family. All over the world people have come to know and love each other through their Subud contacts – even sometimes despite their apparent differences. I decided to try and make contact with some of those who used to be well known but who have now slipped into the background for a number of reasons.

Many of course have died. Others may be ill or in Homes for the Elderly. A third group are still active and doing interesting work. SV hopes to bring news of some of them in a running article called ‘Whatever happened to…?’, and believes this could also become a kind of networking.

The first article is from news received in January 2012. Hopefully there will be news from others in future articles. Send to me at: ilaine.l@blueyonder.co.uk  or phone +44 (0)1242 707701 or write to: 8 Sissinghurst Grove, Cheltenham, GL51 3FA, UK

Conrad Aldridge

Conrad Aldridge sent his news from the UK : my wife Michelle and I moved back to Yorkshire (at the end of Ramadan) to be nearer our five married children and eight grand-children. We enjoyed ten happy years in Scotland.

We now attend the Sheffield Subud Group which is on the edge of a major de-industrialised part of the City. The Sheffield City Council has produced an Action Plan to try to entice developers to help re-generate the area. Sheffield was once a World Player because of steel making, but now, along with everyone else, struggles with the economic downturn.

I’m working with others to do commercial property development here in Sheffield via a Development Trust – an organisation whose profits will be used to fund social needs. It’s a form of development work that I’ve been keen on since I visited Project Sunrise in Sydney back in the early nineteen eighties.

It allows me to use some of the skills I picked up via Premier Hotels and involves making contact with large numbers of other organisations around the City and nationally.

There is a growing intention amongst communities to share in wealth creation in their neighbourhoods and people are keener to find new long term ways to pay for social programmes. It’s early days but we’ve made a start.

So I’m alive and kicking and am also Subud Britain’s North Region Chairman.

If anyone wants to contact Conrad – and especially if they have knowledge of or are interested in re-generation projects, his e-mail address is conradaldridge@btinternet.com and tel in the UK is 01484 863 799

SourceURL:file://localhost/Users/marcusbolt2/Desktop/WHATEVER%20HAPPENED%20TO.doc

Lucas (Latif) Horton

Lucas (formerly Latif) Horton sent the following: we have been in Ireland now for around 4 years. Before that I had been in the USA for 4 years living in New York and then in the community at Badger in the mountains of California.

Originally when we moved here, there was plenty of development and Architectural work, but this has now diminished to almost nothing. Fortunately Syna, my wife – who is also a cranio-sacral therapist, is busy and I have been developing a new trading business which is growing slowly but surely, so I am very optimistic for 2012. It is important to stay positive. The future is more interesting than the past.

This is the third time I have lived in Ireland, originally dating back to the early 1970′s nearly 40 years ago.  I find Ireland congenial, it has a different pace than England, and people take themselves less seriously than in many places, so that maybe it is possible for me to get to a quieter place in myself whilst living here.  It is also where my father was born and where my grandparents lived and worked, so maybe there is some historical logic to being here as well.

SUBUD  is very thin on the ground in Ireland, where latihans of more than 2 or 3 people are rare. We travel to Provence 3 to 4 times a year. I like Provence and there is a stronger SUBUD presence there than in Ireland.

I have been very fortunate to have travelled to many countries as a SUBUD member. In the last  6 years, we have done latihan in the UK, USA, Russia, China, as well as a number of European countries.  Although SUBUD is different in every country, the central tenet is the same. Do the latihan. However there is a perspective that comes from travelling that is, I believe, inspiring. It is this perspective that I would like to share with you.

– The latihan is a gift from God to All of Mankind. It is an inner cleansing and purification, and it opens up a way for us to find our way back to God.

– The recent feeling that came to me was that I am a member of SUBUD living in Ireland before I am a member of Subud Ireland..

– What I mean by this is that SUBUD is the community of people worldwide who open themselves to God’s Grace through the latihan. SUBUD is not the Subud organisation.

–  When we as SUBUD members collectively open ourselves to God’s Grace a link, a circle, a channel of openness is created which stretches around the world that links together all who have the same openness to Grace.  Collectively this channel of openness becomes a channel for God’s Grace into the whole world, which does, I believe, have an effect on the whole of mankind.

– I feel this link in each country we have been to and done latihan in. I also feel that this link to Grace is one of the key drivers in the progress of the human race in finding its way back to God, and for raising the overall spiritual condition of the human race at this time.

– This for me is the primary aim and purpose of SUBUD, and it is this SUBUD of which  I am very happy and grateful to be a part.

– It also reinforces to me what is the most important thing for me to do as a SUBUD member and that is to hold this channel to God’s Grace inside me as much as possible, every day.

E/m for Lucas/Latif:  latif_horton@hotmail.com

SourceURL:file://localhost/Users/marcusbolt2/Desktop/WHATEVER%20HAPPENED%20TO.doc

Muchtar Martins

Muchtar Martins, a former Chair of the World Subud Council, sent the following. At present, to be honest, I’m not concerned about having work as an architect or even to construct buildings but much more what I’m facing is this enigma of feeling all the conflicting diversity of human beings while at the same time searching to be one with humanity.

The way I used till now for this search, was through team work in the very challenging endeavours of Subud projects around the world. But these days, it seems, my adventurous nature is no longer necessary and my struggle is to find a new way to put into practice the inspirations that I receive in the latihan that are indeed much larger than before and need much more team work in order to be achieved.

In fact I’m perplexed regarding the way to move forward and …….. with whom ……. !!!? So other than being patient there seems to be nothing at present that I can do. E/m: muchtar.martins@gmail.com

 

 

Michael Mondeno

Michael Menduno, incorrigible editor of the Congress magazine GEEWA at the Spokane World Congress, writes: I’ve been living in Berkeley, CA for the last year writing, playing music and getting back into scuba diving. I’m a helper in our local group and I’m also chairing our upcoming Subud California Congress which is to be held 25-27 May, 2012 at the Airtel Plaza Hotel, Van Nuys, CA. Find us on Facebook under Subud California Congress.

Workwise, Michael Menduno adds:
I work with an investment research firm called OTR Global. I’m a senior reporter and lead a team of reporters from US, Europe and Asia to write about enterprise technology; things like computer networking, network security, cloud computing etc.
In addition I have started freelancing for magazines again and loving every minute of it. Lately I have been writing about scuba diving. I used to publish a diving magazine called “aquaCORPS: The Journal for Technical Diving” 1990-1996. Now I am getting back into the sport and writing about diving technology and some of the key people that are driving the sport forward.
I am also a musician and play and gig here in the Bay Area. I play bass and am into jazz, R&B, latin jazz and blues. e/m: michael@menduno.com

Leonard Wells with his fiancee in 2011

Leonard Wells (UK), quite recently died in his sleep – aged only 71. He would shortly have married his Romanian sweetheart, and had written  the following about his romance in the UK’s August 2011 Subud Journal (extract):

‘Sachlan Fraval once referred to me as the most eligible bachelor in Subud but it did not seem to make much difference. By 2008 I was getting desperate to put it mildly. In a way like that day in the Liverpool Subud House, I called out one night in a  ‘Why hast thou forsaken me’ moment. Two days later I was looking at a very pretty lady scientist on an international dating agency Website on my PC. She is Romanian and lives with her immortal 97-year-old aunt in Bucharest. I did not appreciate when I clicked my mouse in her direction where it was going to lead me. After some months of e-mails I arrived in 09/09/09 in Bucharest, knees knocking, heart pounding. She told me later that she was so excited that she took tranquilisers before coming to meet me. I have now made six visits in all to Romania and have travelled extensively. We love each other very deeply.’

God bless you Len and surely all our hearts will go out to your beloved now.

 

LOOK OUT FOR MORE “WHATEVER HAPPENED TO…?” updates in the next Subud Voice Online.

Rozak Tatabe

…Then Bapak instructed me to sit down to receive the next test. He said, “I will say Allah using my heart and mind and then I will say Allah in a latihan state. Feel the difference between the two.”

He rose from his chair. . .  I closed my eyes and turned my attention and consciousness inwards.

“Allah!” I could hear Bapak’s voice. A feeling of joy and lightness spread in my chest. If this were the feeling when Bapak said “Allah” using his heart and mind, how amazing it would be when he called on the name of God in a latihan state. This was my thought as I waited for the next test.

“Allah!”  I heard Bapak’s voice. The tone of his voice and its expression hardly differed from the previous one, but then something happened which I could never have imagined.

I was in the middle of a terrifying silence. Doubtless, ‘terrifying’ is not a suitable adjective, but it can only be described by words such as terrifying or frightful. There was none of the joy that I had anticipated. On the contrary, all human emotions and feelings had been entirely wiped out. What I was feeling was the silence of a ruin. It felt as though the world had come to an end and all living things were extinct…

Many years ago, I used to spend a lot of time at John Cooke’s house in the Carmel Highlands, California, where I had been opened and where the group did latihan. I became one of a close-knit circle of members there, who sometimes experimented with Ouija boards. During one of these nights with the Ouija board, the contacted “spirits”, or what we might assume was our own subconscious – started asking us questions. One of these – which was directed to any of us – was “Who will take a message to the King?” I said “I will take the message, what is it?”

The answer was, “You will know when the time is right.”

I forgot all about it till about eleven years later, just after I had married Sulfiati. It was then that I had a very strong clear dream. In this dream I was part of a small village that was suffering from intense poverty and the elders had called a meeting to see if they could find someone willing to take a message to the King, who would surely send help if he knew our predicament. In the dream I was only about eleven years old, but I hollered out that I would take the message to the King. The response was just laughter, and they said that if the men were unwilling to risk the journey  they would not let me try. Then, just as everyone was going off to bed, an elderly grandmother came up to me quietly and said, “It is correct for you to go, so take this pack of supplies that I have prepared for you and leave now so no one will miss you till morning and by then it will be too late to find you.”

As dawn appeared I noticed a wolf watching me, but my fear of being attacked and eaten subsided when I remembered that I had a pack of food, so I opened it and threw some towards him. He came over and ate it, then moved closer to me again. My fear seemed to have vanished and he just lay down next to me. He became my traveling companion and protector and helped us both find food.

After searching for about a week with no clue as to where we might find the King, we came over a hill and were looking into a valley with many campfires. As we met the people gathered at these camps we discovered that they were all looking for the King and no one had a clue as to where to look next. In a few days we were all asked to gather together and were told, “The King knows that you are here and why, so he will be sending a guide to bring you to him.” Everyone was very excited and started making plans as to how they would approach the King with their needs.

On the day the guide arrived I was surprised, yet not surprised, to find that he was Bapak Mohammed Subuh. He made a motion with his hand that we should follow him and just said, “Come.” Then many of us just followed down the path he had taken, while others scurried around to get their belongings or find their family members, or to find someone to take care of their affairs while they were gone.

At the end of the path was a huge wooden building, and Bapak opened the door and said, “Come in.” As I approached the door, I said, “Bapak, there are still many others wanting to come” – but he said, “Don’t worry, they will come on another trip,” and he ushered us all in and shut the door. I realized that we were going to do latihan and then I noticed that the room contained not only men, but women and children as well. Since women do not do latihan together with men, and children don’t do latihan at all, I asked Bapak, “What are we doing?” and he said, “Ya, ya… just surrender.”

Then I understood that this was necessary so I just closed my eyes and tried to surrender all of my concerns.

After a while I heard beautiful music like angels singing and felt compelled to sway and dance to this music. Then I felt moved to begin leaping higher and higher, and I felt like there was diminished gravity. I had to open my eyes to see if others were being affected and I noticed that even Bapak was leaping into the air, like the rest of us. So I asked, “Bapak, what is going on?” and he just said, “Ya, ya, just surrender.” So again, I closed my eyes and tried to give up all my concerns.

As time went on the movements got slower and the singing got quieter, but the intensity of the vibrations got stronger and stronger. Soon I had to open my eyes again and I noticed that the building had disappeared and we were dancing and swaying in a beautiful sunlit meadow with flowers and birds and butterflies, so I turned to Bapak again and asked, “What is going on Bapak?” and again he said, “Ya, ya, just surrender.”

Since I knew him to be a benevolent guide, I closed my eyes again and asked to be free of my concerns. This time the movements almost stopped and the music became very faint, but the intensity of the vibrations became much stronger, and after a while I just had to open my eyes again. I saw then that the earth under us had disappeared and we were suspended in space amongst the stars.

I could feel the presence of those around me doing latihan, but I could not see anyone except for Bapak, so I asked, “What does this mean, what’s happening?” and of course he repeated, “Ya, ya, just surrender.” He is the boss, so again I obeyed.

This time the silence was like thunder and the vibrations were very fine but intense beyond anything experienced by me. Again I felt I must ask Bapak what to do , so I opened my eyes and saw that this time there were no stars, just total blackness. I was scared and looked for Bapak. When I saw him he was as if made of glass, but alive and moving.

I had to ask, “Where are we, how can this be?” And even as I asked I began to understand that I had been given a gift far beyond what I could expect or even imagine. I burst into tears of gratitude and asked for forgiveness. Again Bapak said, “Ya, ya, just surrender.”

Again I tried but everything went blank as if I had passed out. There was just nothing. After a while, I have no idea how long, I started to feel some awareness of where I had been and felt that I was floating back to earth. Then I started to wonder why I had gone on this visit and it occurred to me that I had forgotten to tell the King about my village and its poverty. But before I could finish the thought came that the answer was there; the King knew more about my village than I did and understood its needs completely. So I relaxed and continued to float down until I envisioned myself arriving back at my village and pondering what I would say to them.

But before I could even finish that thought, the answer was there inside me. Their poverty would only last as long as they continued to hold onto it. The dream went on a bit longer. However that was the message I was intended to retrieve, so I will stop here.

Some time later I was visiting Bapak’s grave and was invited, along with busloads of brothers and sisters, to have lunch at Ibu Rahayu’s house nearby. After returning my dishes to the kitchen I noticed that Ibu was sitting alone outside in the middle of her patio and I understood that she was sitting there to be available so that anyone who was moved could feel free to come and speak with her. Knowing that I might never have such an opportunity again, I went over and sat down next to her. I asked her if I might share the vision with her that I have just described. She said “Yes, please tell me.”

As I did so, she would nod to show that she was listening. And when I mentioned the last message – about holding onto poverty – she looked up at me and said “That is right.” Then she thanked me for sharing my vision and I thanked her for listening and we parted and went on with our day. I felt that she had really listened and understood completely.

Reprinted from CONTENTS California – with thanks to the editor, Emmanuel Williams

Renee Goetz has long been a pillar of Susila Dharma in Australia and has played an important role in bringing ICDP to Australia…

I suppose that my today’s vision has developed from a colorful past.

Apparently I refused help from the age of 2. Nobody was going to carry me up or down a mountain!

My grandfather together with a business friend, created the first cement factory in Switzerland. When they did the first tests in a wooden building with very hot furnaces, the noble friend drank a cold beer, which was lethal. On his death bed he called my grandfather asking him to look after his family.  My grandfather was the centre of the community. During the European general strike he called the village together, announcing that they would work and not strike. His sons would take horse and cart and get food for the whole village. Grandpa was also high in politics in Bern. He is in the “Book of Pioneers”. He was at the root of the Swiss Cement Industry which today is involved in the cement industry all over the world. He was “a man of honor”, yet he was always humble. I was very fond of him and we were true friends.

My mother was of French tongue, my father from the German part of Switzerland. We were raised bilingual. In September 1938 we immigrated on a German liner to Argentina. On that journey we learned the difference of civil rights. A Jewish family was emigrating from Germany. We played with their children. Before the waters of Spain a low boat stopped next to our liner, the Jewish family was taken back to Germany. We know what happened to the Jewish people in Germany at that time.

In Argentina we learnt Spanish. At the beginning we stayed with the family whose father had enticed my father to emigrate. The children had a bike, one bike to 6 children! When it was my turn I broke away, chose to follow a tram line to help me find the way back. I ended at a wall, which must have been the wall around the oasis. I lost direction, which had always been my weakness. Not knowing what to do I cried. A man came and must have asked me questions in Spanish, I did not understand. He brought me to a house where a family with two children were having lunch. They gave me a drink of water, they spoke German and asked me to write the name of the family we were staying with. Welkerling was difficult to write, as it was German, and my schooling had been in French. However the children went to the same school as our host’s children. I am still today convinced that at the wall I met my guardian angel.

Argentina did not work out for my father. We went back on a French liner. We toured Paris and witnessed that the precious stained glass windows in Cathedrals were being packed away as the war was imminent.  Back in Switzerland we first stayed with my grandparents while my father was trying to find a new situation for us.

During that time a hotel company was trying to acquire the meadow at the Lake of the four Cantons, where in 1291 the Swiss people of the first three Cantons by night met and “swore in the name of God” that they would stay free and never bow to the power of people”. A solution had to be found to protect that land that it could never be individually owned. It was decided that the schoolchildren would buy the land with their pocket money, to which my sisters and I proudly contributed. There will always be schoolchildren, they will grow up while other schoolchildren will come along and that will never end.

My parents decided to move to the German part of Switzerland, as my father, who was an architect and Master Builder was asked to urgently takeover the construction business in which he had worked after the first world war. The owner had had a stroke. It was July 1939, the war was moving closer and Switzerland was going to be surrounded by warring nations. We had no access to ports to import food. We could feed ourselves for 9 months. Storage facilities had to be built in the mountains . Our business had to surrender the lorry, the car, the petrol, copper, tyres, etc to the government while there was so much work to be done! The men had to go to military service, all the parks and flower islands in the cities were starting to grow wheat, potatoes, etc.

My father was Catholic and my mother Protestant. In the French part of Switzerland Sundays were very special, as the whole family went to the Catholic Church for Mass and afterwards to a coffee place for a croissant and hot chocolate. In the new village, Sundays became a problem as people started to ask my mother whether she intended to convert. She never came to church with us again. I had religious problems as my inner revolted. At my first communion I really felt my bond with Jesus. However, in the afternoon we had to go back to the church and “re-state” our attachment to the Catholic Church by promising to go to confession and communion every month. I understood that if I promised that I would be burdened by a bad conscience for life. I was 9 years old!

In the course of time the family had grown to 7 children. My father started to collect stamps, art, books, French Wine, you name it. The church exploited him for money etc. One day we had the visit of a business gentleman from London. He was a Russian Jew who after time became my mentor. Before the war he had lived with his wife and daughter in Berlin.  As of 1938 the Hitler regime became very scary, he decided they had to move. His wife insisted to go back to Russia with the daughter. Boris decided to go to London. When he visited us, we took him to a beautiful mountain. There Boris gave me his newspaper that contained an article about the Russian writer Pushkin. I started to take Russian lessons and cherished that newspaper. I believe that I reminded Boris of his beloved daughter he missed so very much. He said to me:”If I can give you something for your life it is “give”. If you have time give time, if you have money, give money, if you have love, give love. You will always be looked after.  This gift has accompanied me through life.  To a top Swiss Banker he wrote a poem for this man’s 60^th birthday. One sentence I remember: “In pursuit of the glitterings of life we are often bypassing life”.

My father’s interest in paintings, brought us children into precious contacts for life. For me one painter and his wife became a very important shining light in my life. Cuno Amiet had been member of the French and German art circles. He had walked all through Switzerland to find his wife. In a small village away from the big roads, with lots of meadows with apple trees, a very quiet atmosphere, he walked into the local pub for lunch. Towards him came a young woman in Swiss National Costume. In her he recognized his future wife.  They settled outside the village, where they bought an old farm house.  From there he created the most beautiful paintings. By that time I was around 16 years old. I was twice invited to spend a summer holiday with them. With them I experienced what a valuable partnership they had. That is what I wanted in my life. I had to pray 23 years to Almighty God to guide me to the husband he had chosen for me.

All my siblings studied with financial support from my parents. One sister went to Art school where she did very well. But then she chose music and did one degree after the other, piano, organ, carving and teaching bamboo flutes, dancing etc. until she was 35. I decided to go my own way, earning my money first. I finished my school years with a business course. My first job was in my father’s construction business. I loved it. We mainly did industrial building. My father travelled frequently and said I had to learn to take responsibility. We had a large number of workers, many Italians so I learnt Italian. I had a very good relationship with our workers. After two years I took some time off to study English in London. I had an uncle in London’s Swiss Bank Corporation. After a while I told him that I was learning nothing in the English course for foreigners I had attended.  He had a client who was looking for an au pair for his family who was in the country. I saw this as a brilliant opportunity, as I know that children will not accept an English that is not perfect. After nine months I went back to London to study business. After a few months the main professor in the English business course asked me a tax question which I could not answer. He scolded me in front of the whole class, saying that my father would be paying taxes to the English Crown and I had no answer to this question!  I apologized telling him that I am an overseas student. He could hardly believe me. Thanks to the children my accent at that time was perfect.

I went back to work with father. I enjoyed the building atmosphere. I was on all the building sites. My father owned a fairly big garden near the railway station. It had beautiful fruit trees. It was originally owned by Nestle who started to boil milk in our village. When the farmers decided to raise the milk price, Nestle moved their enterprise to Vevey, on the lake of Geneva. Their shares are still registered in my village.

As the garden was not managed very well I asked my father to let me use it. I bought sheep, learnt to shear them, asked some workers to build a stable for the winter. The rest of the year the sheep enjoyed pulling the branches of the trees to enjoy the peaches, apples and pears. This garden gave a lot of pleasure in the vicinity.

Private Secretary

After a few more years in business with my father I became Private Secretary to Stavros Niarchos the Greek ship owner who was developing the biggest commercial fleet in the world (he was the brother in law of Onassis). I was confronted with the very big international business, the shipping crisis in the Suez Canal, the stock exchange reports that would arrive at midnight from the US. I spent time in his Chateau in Paris, where Mrs. Niarchos unpacked the furniture of Marie Antoinette she was collecting. During the Suez crisis we received telexes as long as our office!

During that time my Swiss home town decided to introduce a land tax! The tax register was open to anyone to consult. The main industry was a very low tax payer. But their finance manager held the finance department and their Industry manager was head of the government’s development department. At that time only men had voting rights. I was convinced that the men would say that this tax would be ok because it would punish the rich. They did not see that the set up in the local government was preventing a work choice. Any major employer was rejected from setting up business there. Not having a vote I occasionally used a locally sounding male name to make my views known in the newspaper. I did so from my Paris Office. The land tax was blown out of the way!

Stavros Niarchos also had a 30 room villa in St Moritz, Switzerland, the playground of the world’s richest people. He had bought this villa, situated at the foot of the mountain, from the Prince of Romania. One of my tasks was to renovate this house. In that house was a large room that had been used as a bar. It looked unfriendly so that nobody wanted to use it. I invited a Swiss artist painter who had created some exquisite interiors.  He turned the room into a “commedia del Arte”,  painted on a light grey background. His brother who was a cabaret artist, he painted the frames around doors and windows. With specially designed and printed light rose silk curtains with a pattern of guitar ribbons and falling leaves, an orange silk covered sofa, on the floor white shepherd rugs, the room had been turned into a treasure.

It was the most beautiful autumn. We sometimes went all three into the mountains, just to enjoy the scenery, often waiting for the appearance of a very shy marmot. We felt so wide and blissful. A very special treat for the housekeepers was an afternoon collecting buckets of blueberries!

Alois, the painter, owned his family’s house in another valley. He invited me to spend an occasional weekend there with him. He explained that this house was very special for him. His family had a number of unmarried aunts. He had made up his mind to keep this house “clean”. When he invited a woman she would know that she would be respected in memory of these aunts. The house was close to a slope, up from the river. Sitting outside we could hear the waters flow, the bells of the cows that spent their nights outside, candlelight, bread and wine on the table in an atmosphere of peace, and freedom without boundaries.  Did something in me remember the poem Boris wrote for the top Swiss Banker’s 60^th birthday: “In pursuit of the glitterings of life, you are often bypassing life?”

I said goodbye to the ship owner. He said to me: “If you ever need me you know where to find me”.

I moved to Zurich, where a five day job with free weekends was very difficult for me. I started to take singing lessons every day including Saturdays, and a ballet lesson once a week. I decided to become an opera singer. However, one day at singing we had the visit of the Buenos Aires’ Theatro Colon Intendant to whom we auditioned. I was the last one to sing for him. His comment for me was: “How long has this lady been singing?” That is when I learnt that one does not always get the right guidance from a teacher (with self interest). I had been told that if I was not exceptional she would not teach me!

But the five years were not all wasted. At Ballet I met a young mother who was in Subud. I joined. One day, after latihan, we all went to one of the helpers where we met Varindra who was visiting. I was asked to serve him tea. He looked at me and said: You should go to Wolfsburg!  I went and a new development started.

In Zurich I had worked with an international bank. I had even introduced new clients to them. With a top quality interior decorator I created two very elegant reception rooms for clients. I learnt a lot from him. When I left that bank for Wolfsburg I was given my own bank stationery and business cards as well as a brand new red IBM typewriter (and a brilliant salary) to attract clients for them. It was the time when Bapak’s talks came directly from Belgium to Wolfsburg to be transcribed and then published in German. I had brought with me a recording machine (a gift from Dean Dixon, the conductor who at that time had proposed to marry me) I used this gadget to transcribe the English translated talks to then be translated into German. However, after a few months I remembered that the typewriter was really meant to be used for business. I had a few clients in London. I spent maybe a week there. One day, in Oxford Street I felt very queer. It was my indication that I had to leave the bank. The only work at the time in Wolfsburg, according to the helpers, was to be Lienhard Berger’s secretary. Lienhard was fairly new at Volkswagen, starting a career there. His office was behind glass and I sat in a very large office with lots of people working at individual desks. That was my total purification, with all the sleep deprivation in the Subud Group.  Maybe it was my purification before my marriage. It was all worthwhile for me being given the world’s best, kindest and very creative husband.

I met Ludwig in the 1973 summer camp the Wolfsburg group organized in beautiful countryside. Ludwig and his young colleague one year built a huge tent city. I was asked whether I would like to hold the coffee shop. And how I would! Ludwig had a very difficult building site some kilometers away. He came to the tent only at night and weekends. I realized that sometimes I served him quicker than others in the queue as I thought he must be tired. The National Helpers sometimes put the two of us on the last night watch together. We were so tired. We sat in the grass and when we opened our eyes we saw that the cows were watching us. One night I said to him: “you are so quiet. He said: “yes, I am thinking whether we should get married”. It was so clear to me that Ludwig was the Man I had been waiting for. We did not have much time to get to know each other. His young partner refused to take care of their very difficult building sight even for three days so that we could go on honeymoon.

Wedding Day

I said to Ludwig:”we do not need a honeymoon, when we will be married we will travel and every time we will say:”we are going on honeymoon” and that is what we did.

Ludwig and I spent years together in Saudi Arabia, where I was very lucky to be given a job as secretary to the Swiss Ambassador. Ludwig had a gigantic commitment supervising the creation of a huge Olympic size swimming complex. Every weekend, with his colleague who was in charge of the sports complex, we packed our cars to spend a weekend (Thursday lunchtime to Friday evening) at a totally intact reef, deep see diving. Occasionally some overseas Subud friends visited us to do the pilgrimage to Mekka from our house. After the project was finished in Jeddah, we had a similar project in the mountains of Mekka. When our commitment in Saudi was completed we had a short three weeks before Christmas in war torn Iraq. We were promised to go back to spend Christmas with family. We had to return to Bagdad on January 3. The taxi was at the door to take us to the airport when the telephone rang. The German Company said that I was not to go back to Bagdad with Ludwig. Within seconds we were literally torn apart. Almighty God has so many ways to conduct our lives!

At the end of January news reached me at my mother’s in Switzerland that Bapak would like Ludwig to guide Anugraha to completion. In Bagdad a German Subud couple managed the Meridian Hotel. I had their telex address. Ludwig went there at weekends for a rest and some food, as food in Bagdad was hardly available due to the war. Had we both been in Bagdad, Bapak’s message would not have reached us. Ludwig returning to Switzerland first needed hospitalization to fix his intestines as food during the week in Bagdad for him was simply not available.

During Anugraha I was Sharif Horthy’s secretary. Every morning I went to Villa Rahayu to pick up the work Sharif wanted me to do. I entered through the kitchen. Mostly Bapak was there with Sharif and members of the family. I said “Good Morning” and quickly walked on as I did not want to disturb Bapak’s environment. Today I am sorry that I was not friendlier.

After Anugraha we planned to spend a few weeks with my mum while we tried to find a new project. My mum, widowed, was quite well and happy, although now alone in a house that had been home to a large family. Ludwig, on the third floor started to design a cluster of hexagon building units. I spent my days mainly with mum. We were not allowed to invite friends. We occasionally went to have a beer at a pub!  I am still admiring Ludwig’s patience and acceptance. After 7 months mum was able to pass away peacefully. I told my siblings that I needed to inherit the house as we were homeless and practically also penniless.

We renovated the interior and turned the house into a very successful gallery. We even had “Mr. Aldi” flying in from Germany, renting a car at the airport, driving to our gallery situated in a village a good hour away, choosing 4 oil paintings from his favorite Swiss painter, drinking a cup of tea with us, driving back to the airport, flying back to Germany! We were able to create an extraordinary atmosphere in the gallery and it became very successful, while other galleries were folding.

Ludwig had a Subud Helper brother who came once a week from 75 km away to do latihan with him in our house. One evening he arrived, entering the house he said to Ludwig:”it is heavy here”. Ludwig returned:”tomorrow I will go to Lausanne”, where there were three helper brothers, all of French tongue. I worked in the town next to us where Ludwig had to change trains. I met him at the station and said to him; “go as far as you need, I am attached to nothing as long as we stay together”. Ludwig came back, almost with tears in his eyes he said:”the test said that it is Australia!” When it was in the papers that the gallery is closing the bank manager came all upset saying: what happened, you are leaving? We came on a one way ticket to the Sydney World Congress 1989!

We settled ultimately in Redland Bay.  Ludwig created and built a house consisting of octagon shaped units around an octagon shaped swimming pool. We had a majestic view. In 2006 we travelled to India to take part in the Bangalore Subud Event. He came home with a terribly painful attack of shingles all over his face. I had to hospitalize him. That experience changed him. He became very peaceful; he still worked on renovating and extending the neighboring building. At night he would listen in the dark to his favorite classical music. At Easter 2007 we sat on our terrace, quietly looking over the sea when Ludwig said:”Aren’t we lucky, God has guided us so well, we have reached everything”. He had said to Victor Boehm who visited us after the Byron Bay Congress that this house would be his last project.

Three days after Easter he fell from a very high ladder at this building site, and he peacefully passed away at the hospital. Before, two doctor’s had come to see me in the waiting room. They said it was very serious (telling me really that they could not save Ludwig). They said that they would do anything I wished. I said “that my husband pass away in my arms”.  But when I held Ludwig I felt that he was not there anymore, he was simply breathing through cables. I said to the young doctor that she could unhook the cables. Afterwards I said to her:”This is not an accident, this is an act of God”.  She said: “I know”. Why do you know?  She said:”he did not fight!” 6 months later he would have celebrated his 70^th birthday. He had a son from a previous marriage who I had a very special connection with. He came over from Germany as we had planned to surprise Ludwig at his birthday. He asked me whether I would consider adopting him! What a blessing and a big gift to both of us.

Soon after Ludwig’s departure, Rukman Hundeide, the creator of ICDP, invited me to take part in a three day introduction course for ICDP that was planned to take part in Norway. I  knew Ruqman when I lived in Wolfsburg. He had come to introduce his concept of ICDP. Already then I had the feeling that I would like to take part in it one day. I went to Norway with Alex, son of Roland Blauensteiner. He is a business developer. At the time he had his first baby and was very interested in learning about ICDP (International Child Development Program).  With his business skills he was very instrumental in setting up ICDP in Australia. We now have a fully equipped Trainer, very busy using her skills within the TAFE institution. As I am a Board member of Morningside Care, we were able to install ICDP as a project of Morningside C.A.R.E. which has Sine Cera as another arm. That gives Subud Australia a tax deductible social project.

Two years ago, in a creative weekend in Gunebah, we tested: ¨Who am I? I received that I am a pilgrim!

Ludwig and I were founding members of the Kalimantan School. Ludwig developed the Brisbane Subud House, also adding a house for the children, so that men and women could do simultaneous latihan. We created the Subud Sunday Soup table as an ongoing Susila Dharma project supporting the education of 5 children at the Mithra Foundation in India.

Some time ago I had some internet trouble connected with fraud. Usually money wants to come to me. But suddenly it simply went “walk about” in quite large slices. Trying to find what it wanted to tell me I was on the way upstairs to my computer when I suddenly wondered what had happened to all the Wayang work we had done in Wolfsburg. In my library I immediately found my collection. I opened my book at the page of the prayer: “God, let me be a Wayang in Your hands”. I changed my email address to be reminded of it every day, several times  and very often to:

Wayang29@gmail.com (1929 is my birth year – the best wine ever and the biggest financial crash worldwide!)