Shivananda’s stories where he took the courage to follow his inner voice – as told to Punya

19th January 1990
I was just thinking that almost all the stories I have told you have to do, in one way or another, with my inner voice, actually my inner voice and Osho. There have been these special moments where there was this inner voice and at the same time there was always a connection with Osho.
Today we go back to the 19th of January 1990. When I arrived at the commune that morning, the guard at the gate told me there was a telegram for me in the office. The telegram said that my father had died, two days before, on the 17th of January.
Of course I was in shock, and at the same time I knew that I would not go back to Switzerland. Inside there was this voice that said, “You stay!” So I called my sister Ruth and told her that I would not be coming to the funeral, that I would remain here in Pune.
The day went on with my design work in the publications department. There were some feelings about my father and I was reflecting…
My relationship with my father, when I was a child, was not good. I hated him because of his violent temper. Many times he was in a rage. He would then beat me up. We had fights, but of course I was the weaker one, and I hated that too. He was a strong man. Especially in his rage he had this uncontrollable energy. I think it was pent-up anger from his own childhood, and also from his work.
My father liked to brag. He was always showing off in front of everybody, saying how great he was, how fantastically well he was doing things. People didn’t like that, especially at work. He had become the boss of his department. But still they made fun of him behind his back, and he could feel that. When he came home, many times he was angry, and then he’d start bragging in front of us, what he had done that day, what he had said to this guy or that, and all the glorious things he had done.
Later in Pune, when I did the Path of Love, one morning before the group Turiya came up to me and said, “This time, Shivananda, you really go into rage.” I was shocked. She didn’t say anger, she said rage! I hammered and killed my father – for six hours! I was in such a rage!
After it was over, something happened: I was in bliss. I had a satori, basically. In that state, for the first time, I could forgive and make peace with my father, and with my mother, both.
When I then met my father and my mother, our whole relationship had become different, and it stayed like that until they died. There was no more anger. I could totally forgive them. There was just love. We never talked about what had happened to me, but they could feel it.
So, that day, the 19th, after work I went up to Garimo’s room in Krishna House (I was together with her at the time) and had a shower to get ready for the Evening Meeting. When I was in the shower, suddenly I got a bliss attack. How can I can describe it? I was suddenly so happy and so overwhelmed with blissfulness. And totally surprised. Why was this happening? In the shower!
I came out of the shower and said to Garimo, “You know, I’m so happy, I feel so blissful. I don’t know why.”
I put on my white robe ready to walk over to Buddha Hall. On my way, I could feel there was something strange in the air. Something was not as usual. I heard some voices coming from Lao Tzu gate. There was a commotion and some Indian sannyasins were crying. I was wondering what was going on. I had no idea.
I entered Buddha Hall and found a seat, quite far in the back. And then Amrito came and announced that Osho had left the body.
My mind started saying, Shivananda, you should now feel really sad, this is terrible news! But there was still inside of me that blissfulness I had experienced in the shower. My mind was trying to convince me that I should feel bad, that I should feel sad. But I just felt blissfulness.
Amrito said they were going to bring Osho to the podium and that afterwards we would take him to the burning ghats. That’s what Osho had wanted. I was sitting there, and then this inner voice came again, saying, Get up and go to the front, to the podium. I was surprised. I don’t do things like this. You don’t just get up in Buddha Hall and step over other people to go to the front. I was kind of fighting inside, but the voice kept saying, Stand up, go to the front! So at one point I just did that. I walked over people, saying “Sorry, sorry,” and getting these angry glances. “Who is this guy?”
When I reached the front there was an empty cushion lying there, and somebody said, “Sit down!” So I sat down, and then they brought Osho. He was right in front of me.
I love the way we sannyasins deal with death: everybody was celebrating. We were dancing and singing and crying. It was amazing. Especially in my blissful state. I was just in ecstasy.
At first I didn’t connect my bliss attack to Osho leaving his body. But later I suddenly realized, Oh, that’s what Osho was actually talking about, that when the Master leaves the body, something happens to the disciple’s energy.
I also felt that my father was there in Buddha Hall. I could feel him. And I could also feel that, for the first time, he could actually understand what was happening there. And I knew, Yes, this is the right way to say goodbye to my father.
It is amazing that I didn’t feel sad that my father and Osho had each left the body. I was so transported into bliss that it was like an ecstatic experience. Not only my Master had died, but also my Father. The two most important men in my life practically died at the same time. Instead of being sad I was ecstatic! It was such a blessing…
Then we all went down to the burning ghats, dancing. I remained at the burning ghats until late. Because I was only wearing a robe I was getting cold. It was January. I needed to go home and take a rest, it was maybe one o’clock or two o’clock in the morning. There were still people at the ghats. I just got too cold, and felt I needed to take care of my body.
The following day, I remember clearly, when I went to the commune everything was running like any other day; there was Dynamic at 6 and there was breakfast; everything as usual. I was surprised.
21st January 1990
Two days after the burning was the day they were going to bring back the ashes from the ghats. When I walked towards the commune that morning, people were already lined up on both sides of the street, waiting for the procession to arrive. Also from the Main Gate to Lao Tzu House there were people waiting on both sides of the path. Someone was distributing rose petals and people were holding them in the palms of their hands, on little plates or on handkerchiefs. There were even rose petals on the path.
I was standing there – somebody had also given me some rose petals – and people around me were crying. I still could not feel any sadness. There was still this feeling of bliss.
And then suddenly this inner voice rose up and said, Shivananda, it’s time to sing. I went, like, “What?”
The energy was like… Everybody standing there, not talking… Some were crying. It was not a joyful energy. I could not imagine that people would want to sing at this point, but this voice again said, You need to sing!
I knew the girl who was standing next to me and I asked her, “If I go and get my guitar will you sing with me?” And she replied, crying, “I’m sorry, I cannot sing. I’m so sad. I cannot sing.” So I thought, Okay, this idea is finished then. People will not sing; it’s not the right time.
But then I heard the voice again. It was a booming voice. Shivananda, you need to sing!
“What to do now?”
Then Dutch Masta walked past. We used to play together. When I saw her, I went up to her and said, “Masta, we need to sing.” And she replied, “Oh, yes, yes. I think so too, yeah.” “OK, I go and get my guitar and you get yours, and we come back here and sing.” Shortly afterwards we met again in front of Krishna House with our guitars.
As soon as we started singing, it was like an explosion. People streamed in from everywhere. Suddenly the pathway was filled with a big crowd, all singing. It was ecstatic. Some kind of singing! It was amazing.
Then one guitar string broke, but I just continued playing, because, anyway, the singing was so loud I could not even hear myself play. Masta and I were going crazy with the singing. When one song was finished, the next song came and then the next. And then another string broke. I had only four strings left. But it didn’t matter. It was just the energy which was there. The energy was so incredible!
Then suddenly Vatayana from the Main Office came over and said, “Shivananda, you need to stop singing.” I asked, “Why?” She said that the singing was too loud and that the musicians who were arriving with the ashes would not hear themselves play. When Vatayana said that, I had the clear feeling that this was just bullshit. Masta and I looked at each other and Masta said to Vatayana, “No, no, no way. We don’t stop. People want to sing.” I also thought that when the musicians arrived they could just join the singing and play along… So we continued singing.
After a while Vatayana came out again, and shouted, “Stop, stop, stop.” She then announced to everybody, “Okay, all the people who want to sing go to Buddha Hall.” One of the reasons why we had to move was because we were standing on the pathway where the procession was going to walk through at any moment.
She literally pushed me towards Buddha Hall. We took our guitars and walked over, with lots of people following us. But while standing there in Buddha Hall… we looked at each other and everybody knew, “Hey, we just got pushed away. This is not where it’s happening. Let’s go back.”
But by then there was a different scene. The path was now freed and everybody was neatly waiting on both sides for the ashes to arrive. Everybody ready with their rose petals. Anyway, that’s how it happened.
The important thing for me was that on that day there was this opening. I felt that Osho had given me the message You need to sing, not only for that moment, but also to show me that I have this quality, that I can sing with people and turn them on to singing.
It was for me like an initiation, a very important moment.
Of course to follow one’s inner voice needs courage. To follow the energy, to follow it spontaneously always needs courage. But whenever I follow it, something amazing always happens.
Today
How many years ago was that? 34. That feeling, which actually started there, in that moment, is still here, right now, alive.
I was singing yesterday. I had a workshop and there were 50 people. It was magic! It was so amazing. I’m still singing the same songs… They still carry the magic. And of these 50 people, only two were sannyasins.
My feeling is that something opened for me on that day. It was like a yes to myself as a singer, coming from Osho – if we can say that the ‘inner voice’ is Osho. I don’t know, but that’s how it felt to me. In that moment, when I followed that energy, I felt that it was coming from Osho. It was something given by Osho. The voice was like Osho saying to me, You need to sing. And when I followed it, it was so incredible, explosive. And people were so much with it. It was an amazing energy.
34 years later, I still feel the same energy when I’m singing with people. I have this gift which has been given to me: I can turn people on to singing and also to ecstatic singing, not just like la, la, la, but where the energy really moves high. Almost every time it’s like a transformation and a healing, for myself, and for many people. Afterwards they often come up to me and say something like that. There’s so much appreciation and I’m so happy that I can do this as a 76-year-old man. I mean, yesterday, I was the oldest in the whole group.
I always had this gift, but I was not sure about it. I was insecure about it. Sometimes the magic would happen and I would go, like, Oh, my God, I can do this. But then the insecurity came back with thoughts like: You are not really a singer.
When I came to Corfu, I started to sing with Anadi. He kind of took me in, and I became part of his singing group. Then thoughts inside of me started growing that I wanted to do my own thing. I wanted to do it my way.
Well, what then happened? I think it happened how it happens to many people, and also to me. The body started reacting. I got tendinitis and couldn’t play any more. It was in the middle of a two-week festival, and suddenly one day I had to go to Anadi and say, “I’m sorry. I cannot play any more.” At that point he was very much depending on me. He was not happy that I could not go on playing. But it was basically existence saying to me, No, you cannot go on.
Later I noticed that when I am in my own energy, my tendinitis is fine. Interesting! When the energy is flowing… Now I have been playing for three days continuously, because it was a three-day workshop, and I’m fine. The tendinitis I had there in Corfu was a sign that something had to change…
When I sing, I don’t prepare anything. I just trust that the right thing will happen. Of course I can do this only if I play by myself, if I am on my own. If there is another musician, we have to rehearse and prepare. This takes the spark away.
I also think that people like it this way, because we can be very spontaneous. Like yesterday, somebody asked me, “Can you sing My Sweet Lord?” It’s not an easy song. I know the chords and know how to play it, but at first I was not so sure if it was a good idea. It was kind of a risk. But then we sang it, and it was so beautiful. People sang along and enjoyed it very much. They especially liked that it was so spontaneous.
My girlfriend, Nirvikar, says, “When you sing, you are just yourself, and people like that.”
It’s true, when I’m there in front of people, when I stand up and say hello – I don’t prepare what I’m going to say. Things just come. It’s really an amazing gift that this is happening. It happens while I’m painting, and it happens while I’m singing. I can almost watch it happening.
For instance, the other day I said, “When you’re singing, your ears are growing bigger. When you look at a Buddha statue, you see these long ears… Buddha never had long ears. It is a teaching. The teaching is that the ear is a way in.”
Especially when we sing and the song is finished, our ears are really open. It’s such an amazing moment to go inwards. For me, it is like this. I feel the deepest silence after a song, and especially when there are 50 people, all silent. It’s so amazingly beautiful. Sometimes I don’t want to go on singing. I just want to stay in that silence.
There are so many things that happen during the singing, but basically I feel that on that day, 21st January 1990, Osho gave me the okay. It was like an initiation.
You need to sing, this is your thing.
When I took sannyas, Osho, after giving me the new name, said to me: “God is just around the corner.” He never said anything about my name. He just said, “God is just around the corner, and the only reason we don’t see him is because we are all misers.” (I spoke about this in one of my previous stories.) It took me many years to figure out what he actually meant.
Now I feel I’ve gotten it. Not to be a miser doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with money. It has something to do with this: to share whatever I have been given; my being, my qualities, my talents. That I don’t hide them, that I come out with them. Yeah, that’s what I feel is the meaning.
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- And Another Story… – Shivananda’s collection of stories published on Osho News
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