My story overlaps Jerry’s completely, I was involved in the same Gurdjieff group, first as a student while Anne was teaching formal classes, and then as a loyal devotee when she stopped teaching classes and built the intentional community Jerry refers to. I stayed very close to her; my family and I lived with her a couple times, including right at the end, before she kicked me out of her house. The entire association, which was basically a student-teacher relationship, even after the classes stopped, spanned 30 plus years. I had no impression of what Subud was other than what Anne said regarding Bennett’s interest in it and her being what she referred to as a “doorway”, I believe, in Bennett’s group.
Last year Jerry and Ed said that they had joined Subud and that it was a hoot. I, knowing only that and that it was experiential, a personal experience rather than a set of beliefs or group enterprise, phoned Muchtar and I read three books on Subud, Bennett’s, Bright-Paul’s, and a third one called, I believe, The History of Subud, Volume 1. The thread that ran through the books, to me, was the description of being physically, literally, moved about a room by a force outside of one’s self, or something in the highest part of one’s self, that is, one’s “real self”, which is sort of outside of one, in that it is not the usual active force or “self” or whatever – the term “whatever” indicating that although I’m interested in the structure of the universe and the person and the soul and all, I saw Subud as a welcome relief from all that, with the thread being a force that entered and moved, literally physically moved, hundreds and hundreds of people all over the world, regardless of what they were thinking or hoping for or believing about the shape of the universe. It wasn’t them “doing” something, there were no tasks to complete. A person was opened and God the Creator then had room to enter – the “had room to enter” implies, of course, that I do see a structure of the person, with “room” or “lack of room” for God. I evidently can’t escape myself.
I finished the books and I started meeting with Muchtar. I found him to be as kind and humane and sincere as anyone I’ve ever met. He was very game in my catechism classes, carrying on heroically in the face of a student who had no questions, who merely smiled and said, “Sounds great.” Despite my fairly passive performance at catechism, Muchtar, who was probably worn down by the effort, set the date and I was opened. At the opening I stood still, waiting, which was the verb used in at least a couple of the books as the only “action” during Latihan. I stood and waited. Toward the end of the Latihan my lower legs began to feel warm, as if the blood were sinking down into them. I’m 65. I wasn’t sure that I was being moved but I sank to my knees and then sank to the prayer position of Islam and stayed there until the end of the Latihan. I wasn’t sure if I had received but I was thrilled that something had happened. Ah, the need for accomplishment. And I was glad that what had happened was visible. Ah, vanity.
In subsequent Latihans I have had some of the same feelings in my lower legs if I remain standing still but not if I move about, and I do move about, thinking that if God can find me when I stand still I’m sure that he can find me if I move around and it might loosen me up a little. You know, to “make room”. Sometimes I just want to help the process. Alas, God evidently feels fine about me both standing still and moving around and has not moved me in the way he moved so many in the books. I’m okay with that, I’m not here to criticize God, or my Higher Self. Or anyone else. Even without being so moved, I go to Latihan eagerly and leave glad that I went, other than the gnawing sense that I’m not really getting what I’m going there to get.