Dear California Subud Breathers and Sitters (an old-timey Subud joke),
It’s time for another chairman’s letter, so here it is. I finished my previous letter like this:
Rilka said “We are bees in the visible, making honey in the golden hive of the invisible.” Yogi Berra said, “It’s not over till it’s over.” Hamid Camp said “Continya”. Skymont, through it’s struggles and incarnations, made magic honey in many of our lives. Its pioneering spirit and innocence are still with us.
Bapak advised us to create and get to know heaven on earth, so we can recognize it when we leave this world. He also defined heaven as, “Where everything fits” (To be continued)…
So, continuing with my story…
After helping to redirect Bapak’s visits to Skymount, rather than the NY, Washington, and Chicago centers, I returned to NY with my feelings in a state of bliss over the wonderful thing I had helped do. So, I was very surprised when, early the next morning, I got a call from Feri Farkash, who said, “Robert. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d be very angry with you.” I was kind of shocked. Feri was a large man (once national boxing champion of Hungary) whom I had never seen angry with anyone. Feri was one of the gentlest and kindest humans I’ve known; why would he say this to me?
“Why Feri?” I asked. He said, “You got Bapak’s visit moved from NY to the countryside of Virginia without consulting anyone in New York!” I responded; “But, we called Bapak in Cilandak and he OK’d it. It must be the right thing because Bapak receives everything.” He said, “Robert, you don’t understand. Bapak agrees with proposals made to him, mostly, and especially if he thinks that’s what people want.” So a meeting was arranged with the members of New York, where some (especially some of the older members) expressed their anger and dismay.
Other meetings were subsequently held, and, at one, even Varindra came to try to help fix things. But… the deed was done and things could not be fixed. Perhaps surprisingly, not too much anger was directed at me personally. I think it was because I was a tender and callow fellow then (or perhaps just oblivious).
Hundreds of Subud members came to Skymont the following August when Bapak made his visit, and about 150 stayed on to live there. Prio Hartono also came (as Bapak’s “Indonesian helper” emissary to the US) and many considered that Cilandak West had been established.
Helena and I frequently made weekend pilgrimages to Skymont during the next few years, leaving New York after work on Friday and returning Sunday evening. We would often take Subud friends from New York with us, stopping along the way to pick them up. We would arrive after midnight (sometimes as late as 3 or 4 in the morning if the fog was bad or we had to make frequent stops). But whenever we arrived, Skymont was always bustling and lit up like a Christmas tree. music was often being played in the lodge, sometimes accompanied by spontaneous dancing.
I had many sweet experiences during my trips there. One followed a journey that was particularly long and stressful. We departed New York about 6:00 PM and drove 13 hours on the turnpikes and country roads. We had to make more stops than we thought to pick up people and stuff. The stops were longer than expected. We were all tired and had a passenger who had a sort of irritating manner. We hit dense fog around 3:00 AM, so we had to creep along the road. I was driving and fading (a mini Dark Night of the Soul).
But, as we approached Skymont the fog cleared, the weather warmed, and we opened the car windows breathing in the heavenly scent of honeysuckle. We then saw a vision to match; patches of blue sky amidst the clearing clouds announcing the dawn. I had been up for the previous 24 hours, but we had arrived in Heaven, so who cared?
Many people had otherworldly experiences at Skymont. As Bapak arrived, there was a big storm. A high wind came up out of nowhere with dark clouds and a sudden downpour.
As the storm came up, I was setting up an art show of Subud members in an old barn up on the hill. The barn had many openings between the weathered boards and the wind caused pictures to flap around on the walls in an alarming manner. I hurriedly went outside and as I looked up, I saw a whirling vortex of clouds right above us. Suddenly a teenager appeared from out of nowhere with a walkie-talkie calling for plastic sheets and a staple gun. The sheets materialized and we stapled them over the cracks to protect the art from the rain, which immediately came pouring down.
I also heard that during the storm there was a young boy who looked up and saw a huge pair of angels protecting us. They didn’t stop the ensuing mud, however, that we enjoyed for the rest of Bapak’s visit.
Most of my pleasures at Skymont were of the “earthly delight” kind. First among these were the many Subud friends that I met and came to know there; the wonderful and inspiring times we shared. The latihans, the music, the festivals of food and stories, remain inside me.
Then there was the beauty of nature; fireflies so thick in the trees across the Shenandoah that it seemed like the firmament of stars had come to earth and settled all around us. The birdsong and aroma of trees and flowers still linger somewhere in the deep of me.
And, I must not forget the eccentric and often dilapidated structures: chief among them, the outside showers nestled on the side of the steep cliff overlooking the Shenandoah. They were protected from view at the back, but completely open to a spectacular view of the sky, river and trees out the front. It was a liberating experience to take a shower there after a sweaty time of helping to fix up buildings in anticipation of Bapak’s visit. I could feel part of me relaxing to drift up into the sky.
So, to come full circle; Rilka said, “We are bees in the visible making honey in the golden hive of the invisible.”
Blessings to you all, Robert