by Stefen Solat
Per his adopted Tamil son, Roshan, Latif Stephen Allen died on 10 October, 2022, at 80 years of age. He was in a hospital in the rural town of Kandy, Sri Lanka, having lived there for over 20 years. During those years, he continued his chiropractic practice and wrote classical music, in collaboration with a Colombo-based Subud composer.
Before that, he lived his whole life in Los Angeles, where I met him in late 1960s. My earliest memory is of being in the airport waiting, among many others, for Bapak to appear. Looking over at Latif at that moment, I realized he’d partially left his body; I figured it was because his inner self was drawn to be next to Bapak.
This reflected his unique ethereal nature, which always left me in awe. Hence, how fortunate I felt to be able to follow latihan with him once or twice a week for last year or two, via Skype. It also came through during his two to three years living in Wisma Subud/Cilandak, during which time he was an integral part of the orchestra formed, at Bapak’s request, to play for 4th Subud World Congress.
I ask other brothers and sisters who knew him to please chime in.
Inna Lillahi wa ina Illahi Rojiun: We come from God and return to God. May your journey, Latif, be full of guiding Light. Amin.
NOTE: Share your own reflections on Latif’s life below, under “leave a reply” in the comments box at the end of this post about his passing.
from Mary Bond
Stephen-Latif Allen—Master of a Good Time.
I met Latif Allen standing in a ticket line for a concert UCLA’s Royce Hall. We ended up sitting together and in the course of conversation, discovered a mutual friend, Hadidjah Lamas. It also turned out that he was a member of Subud and I was a probationer. This was the beginning of a 50-year friendship.
Latif had a profound yearning for the divine and lived many years in Cilandak. He wrote a logical, intimate, and eloquent essay about preparing for the Latihan that later became a deeply personal book about his tutelage with Bapak’s Helper, Sudarto.
Our brother also had a great and often bawdy sense of humor and an enormous capacity for fun. Even during our Skype conversations this past summer, he loved it when we laughed about nonsensical things. “It’s so good to be silly,” he said,
He was a. master at having a good time. Once we spent four evenings watching all of Wagner‘s Ring Cycle on PBS. We had picnic food in my living room and for eighteen hours immersed ourselves in Wagner‘s world of gods and heroes, fate and morality. I was in an altered state the entire week, similar to what one experiences after an all-night Wayang Kulit in Indonesia.
Another time we were strolling in a formal garden along the top of a knoll, gazing down at a perfectly manicured grassy hill. We looked at each other with the same thought—and soon were rolling down the hill, whooping and giggling. At the bottom we skedaddled away like guilty kids.
And then there were Dr. Allen’s “Black Bean Chili Blowout” extravaganzas. Latif cooked up gallons of chili and invited all his patients and friends. The first time, at his apartment on Franklin Avenue, it seemed as if all of Hollywood must have come. At the second chili feed in a local park, Latif premiered one of his musical compositions, a brass quintet written in honor of a fellow chiropractor and musician.
In 2001 Latif rather suddenly sold his house and left his chiropractic practice to move to Sri Lanka. This was prompted by a letter from a former patient who was unable to find anyone with Latif‘s healing capacity in his home country. “You must come,” Amrit wrote, “Sri Lanka need you.” At that time Latif had found that maintaining his new home and thriving chiropractic practice left him no time for writing music. It was painful to be so divorced from his true talent. Perhaps living more simply would grant him more time to write. There was a huge garage sale. Latif staged it like a party but for so many of us, it was a very sad one.
When I visited in 2003. Latif took me to all the major archaeological and spiritual sites in Sri Lanka. We also spent time in small neighborhood Buddhist temples that had, for me, as powerful an impact as the grand ones. On that trip I made a film of my experiences which you can see at this link:
https://vimeo.com/733428243/4294bd36c5
When I visited Latif again in 2013, he had been joined by Roshan Fernando, a young Sinhalese man who had done odd jobs for him and needed a place to stay. In time Roshan became his informally adopted son. To have a son was one of our dear brother’s longings in life, so meeting Roshan was a great blessing.
Music was Latif’s abiding passion—composing music. In these last years as he became physically frailer, music motivated his days. A year ago, he wrote to me that during the Covid quarantine he had finished a large piano concerto, “Variations on Opus 74, of Beethoven, for Piano and Chamber Orchestra.” How grand it would be to hear it played. He was also working on a second spiritual book based on the teachings of a Sufi master with whom he had studied for many years.
A few days ago, on Skype Roshan showed me a beautiful professional photograph of Latif taken for the program of the premiere of an orchestral work at the American embassy in Colombo some years ago. I don’t remember the details other than that the piece was based on Sri Lankan legend. Roshan, who is a devout Catholic ,has placed that photo of his dad on an altar in his room. Although brokenhearted, Roshan knows that his dad will always be with him. As Latif will be with all of us who loved him.
The following is an excerpt from Latif’s writing about his early travels in his new country.
It was the time when the South-West Monsoon was threatening to begin. Moisture was coming up from the Indian Ocean, up through the Wet Zone, and over the mountains toward the dry zone. During parts of the day, and increasing toward evening, clouds and mist cascaded over the cliffs above Illuks. From the clearing around Amrit’s house, you could see the clouds tumble down into the jungle and evaporate in the drier air. The mist poured over the mountains with fury and constancy. And looking beyond, down the length of the valley, more clouds were doing the same thing—rolling over the whole range—far into the distance. From time to time, this ethereal procession seemed to make some headway. Clouds moved further down the cliff before their annihilation. Then the wind blew briefly, clearing the air, and the process started all over again. It was magical. I could imagine that watching this fabulous spectacle could become a full-time job—just staring into the moving shapes of creation—as creation then passed into nothingness. The Norns were spinning Destiny’s web, Shiva was dancing his Cosmic Dance, and Time was cycling back into herself.
Dear Sisters and Brothers, I too met Latif in Los Angeles as the Subud hall. When he moved to Sri Lanka, we became pen pals. If you do not know, he has written a beautiful book The Inner Mansion first published in 2014. He gave the archives a box fulled with copies of his book. He wanted us to use it as a fund raiser for the archives. He contributed much to the international archives now at the Amani Center near Washington, DC. If anyone wants a copy of Latif’s book, send an email to admin@wsaarchives.org. He then gave us a digital copy of his book to the archives for all members to read online. If you do not have access to the WSA Archives website, send a request to admin@wsaarchives.org.
Here is a description of Stephen Latif Allen’s book:
In the words of the author ” . . . this book is about the arcane architecture of Spiritual Anatomy. It is about the spatial connection of one inner environment to another. It is about the rooms, passageways and thresholds within our Inner Mansion. It is about the many different parts of the non-physical world that Bapak Muhammad Subuh Sumohadiwidjojo spoke about in his lectures and talks.”
[From a review by Emmanuel Elliott of the first edition] “A Subud memoir, overflowing with spiritual experiences and passing on the training, guidance and wisdom imparted to Stephen by his two super-helpers, Pak Sudarto and Mas Adji, throughout the author’s nearly two year stay in Jakarta in the early 70s, during much of which period he also enjoyed free access to Bapak’s home.”
I am sure you will love Latif’s book. There are lots of stories about Bapak and Ibu Siti Sumari, about Pak Sudarto and his good friend Mas Adji.
Daniela, Thanks so much for introducing Latif’s book into the conversation. I was there in Sri Lanka when it was delivered from the printer—very exciting. But I wondered what would become of all those books during the damp monsoon months. So happy to know that some made it to you.
Dear Mary,
Thank you so much for your comprehensive, thoughtful, loving account of your friendship with Latif and his life as you knew it. He and I were close friends from my arrival in L. A. in October 1967. I remember him dearly as you do. There are many, many memories we built together.
I loved editing the fist half of his book “Inner Mansions” by email when I lived in Canberra, Australia. Initially he thought it was just a chapter and it was obvious to me THIS is a book. I am thrilled that “Inner Mansions” has been so well received – he spent many months writing this book.
Latif had the courage to say that which many hesitated to voice. May his journey be swift and filled with a multitude of blessings.
Danella (Raphaela) Mauguin
I lived next door to Latif in Hollywood , California. My last name is Allen, also. We would often get each other’s mail. We met exchanging mail. He was a very warm human being, and we had fun doing things together. Watching a meteor shower (stoned, haha) in the San Gabriel Mountains late one night is one great recollection.