A brightly-coloured family

Two writers, Nityaprem and Madhuri, reflect on their experiences of open minds, open borders, and open hearts, in the larger Osho world

A brightly-coloured family

by Nityaprem

Lately I have been exploring different communities of people who have a sannyas past. I have been a member of the ‘Rajneesh Communes 1974-1990’ Facebook group, which, although it is a private group, is open to anyone who lived at an Osho commune for six months or longer when Osho was alive. And it is a brightly-coloured family of current sannyasins, ex-sannyasins, and those still in transit somewhere between the two.

Over the past few years I have also been posting articles on SannyasNews and engaging people in conversation there, since the site makes it possible to comment on articles, and on other people’s comments. It is open to sannyasins of any kind, current or past. (The guru-rap battles between ‘Li’l Eckhart’ and ‘MC Moo G’ strewn through the comments have been particularly entertaining.) There you find a colourful mixture of current enthusiasts, past enthusiasts who maintain an interest, and others who drop by from time to time.

In these places I’ve found a wide range of opinions about Osho and the communes. Some people say Osho was not enlightened, but a narcissist instead. Others say, “How could that be, given the brilliance of his lectures and his wonderful meditations?” Someone else says, “I think he is a mystery, a man who proved you could have sex as an awakened being.” Yet others simply say, “He was enlightened and I loved him.” That seems to them to explain everything.

People respecting each other’s opinions allows these various views to co-exist. It is a matter of saying, “I allow you your opinion, if you will be kind enough to allow me mine.” It seems to be a rare thing these days, that the followers and ex-followers of a movement share a space online together. Personally I think it’s a beautiful happening. I don’t believe in excluding people just because their views on a topic have shifted a little.

If anything I find that the things that we have shared create a certain kinship between us. That includes Osho, what we remember of his teachings, sannyas, walking around in all-red clothes, the communes, even the Rajneesh Times and its cartoons. That shared part of our lives – for many of us among the best times of our lives – means there is definitely a connection.

Not so long ago I was asked by a journalist how many sannyasins there were in the Netherlands. What kind of a crazy question is that, I asked myself later. You have all the people who ever read an Osho book, you have all the people who officially took sannyas, past and present; you have all the people who ever walked in red clothes, you have the people who currently self-identify as sannyasins. These groups share some overlap, but what a sannyasin is, is a fluid concept.

Even with the newest sannyasins, who might never have seen Osho alive, there is an instant connection. Not so long ago my father and I were sitting on a train when a woman in her thirties dressed in deep burgundies and purples sat down in a seat opposite. She was wearing a mala, and what followed was some of the most lively conversation I have ever had on a train.

I heard it said sometime ago that tolerance is the true measure of how civilised we are, and I think on that front we are doing pretty well.

The robe is made of light and breathing gauze

by Madhuri

A thing I love about sannyas is that it is a very porous envelope. Osho was among us – a mystery. His body left us – a mystery. The universe is vast and unfathomable in its workings – a mystery.

What do we know?

And so when, in late 2004, in the Swiss Alps, convalescing joyously from brain surgery I’d had in Poona, thrilled to be alive – I met a young man from Missouri who had never meditated nor heard of Osho – I found myself accepting his invitation to go to Springfield and be with him. I look back on the 7 years I spent with Neil as an island of peace and beauty, grace and deep learning – as I lived out what I had learned in Osho’s presence, meditating with my lover and negotiating the friable and changing river of relating with as much awareness and respect as I could find.

His Tribe was not my Tribe – in his tribe, people hunted deer and moose, voted Republican, displayed American flags in their front yards. They went to church (although he didn’t), ate things that to me were terrible, and had never travelled further than Mexico, nor ever intended to. And yet Neil adventured with me into Silence, came with me to Europe, ate with alacrity and content the foods I lovingly prepared. His integrity, calm, devotion, and commitment were a balm I had never experienced from a man before. He had never heard of Tantra, yet he let me lead him. He once said, “Meditation is just space.” And he had a natural gift for it.

In all this I somehow knew that I knew nothing; that this time in Missouri too was a mystery, to be lived as wholly as I could. And it was wonderful that my own Tribe was never going to give me a hard time about being with someone so different – neither my liberal family on the West Coast, nor my sannyas tribe around the world. Everyone trusted me to be myself, and steer by my own lights. They were often amazed: “You are the last person we would expect to end up in Missouri!” I heard again and again – but nobody bothered me or gave me a hard time. Nor did I expect them to: I trust my huger family to be open, porous – for what do we know?

Tribes are not often so forgiving. The very essence of Tribalism is Support, according to Human Design; but Tribal Law dictates what behaviours are allowed, and who is In and who is Out – who is allowed that support, and who is banished. All over the world, every day, tribes murder their own members for breaking tribal law. Marrying into the wrong caste – eating forbidden foods – wearing the wrong clothes – rejecting the prescribed religion – all can be punished by death or banishment. Osho often pointed out to us the deathliness of the grip of Tribes, and their nonsensical rules and rituals.

I remember him saying something like, “Never criticize how someone prays, or how they love. For how they pray, and how they love, is exactly right for them.”

I loved this; it touched me. But then, in my Design the position of the sun at my birth says, “The recognition of limitation in oneself leads to tolerance; a suspension of judgement.” Then Gate 49, Tribal Principles, says, “Exploring every possible avenue for a peaceful resolution before rejecting.” And taken as a whole, my Design is very non-tribal; it’s more about watching the tribe, observing it, than about following its rules.

But everybody is different. If there’s one thing I can say from all my years as first a psychic and then a HD reader: It’s one of the great mysteries of life how every being is unique – really unique. What’s right for one is wrong for another. So, again, What do we know? Each person, and her timing, are mysterious. It is out of our hands. And each being just wants to be itself.

I have read many memoirs by people who have escaped from repressive and insular cults. These religious structures punish defection, punish ‘different’ behaviours, usually punish (yet engage secretly in) sexual activity. The books make for depressing reading.

This just isn’t us. I know sannyasins, and every shade and colour of Osho-touched person, who are veggie or not; nude-beach-loving or not; in relationships with Buddhists or Krishnamurti-ites. Who do Yoga, chant mantras, climb Mount Everest, marry, don’t marry, run dolphin-swimming expeditions, live quietly in suburbs. The only thread running through is that they were at some point in contact with Osho – somehow, somewhere. They might be in any sort of mood or process regarding this relationshipless relationship; rejection, devotion, or anything in between. I just don’t think it matters; and I don’t think it matters if someone never met him, and does not know how to close their eyes and go inside.

What matters is my own heart – towards, first of all, myself, and my imperfections; and then it is just here, my heart, reflecting the world as it comes along.

And, for someone else, with more Tribal wiring, it might be essential to help build a community, a structure of support… and then the inevitable rules will be a part of that.

Because I am me, I hope they will be lenient!

I heard Osho say, “Do whatever you want – just don’t interfere in anybody else’s life.” This short sentence says so very much.

Featured image: Fire Dance, 54″x50″, 1999-2000, by Mancunian artist and friend, Max Hague, a pioneer in the use of these specialist paints – maxhague.co.uk