Becoming one of them

An excerpt from chapter 14 of Chitbodhi’s memoir, One Life: A True Account – Receiving a new name and being in the Encounter Group

A new name

On the last day of the Centering Group, on 10th April 1978, we all went to Osho’s house at 7 pm. About 300 people fitted into this huge space; his chair in front, all of us sitting in rows around it.

He came in. I was in awe.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him, I just watched him, not listening to what he said. People, who wanted to take Sannyas that night, were called up by name and led to sit in front of him. He talked to each individual a while and then gave them a new name.

Suddenly I heard my name being called.

I took a seat in front of him. His mouth was moving. He was talking. I didn’t understand. I was in a vacuum. No sounds and words that I could hear. His eyes were so beautiful. I just had to look him in the eyes. My brain was dead. No thought. I didn’t understand a thing.

He asked me to repeat my new name.

I didn’t get my name.

Did he say my name? What was my name?

He must have seen my confusion. He repeated loudly: “Chitbodhi.”

I said: “Shitbodhi.”

Everybody cracked up laughing behind me.

He smiled. “You will be fine.”

That was it, and I was back in my seat. Why did everybody laugh? I didn’t understand. That night, returning to the Wakefield dormitory, I was welcomed by many who knew that I would get a new name that evening.

Entering the main room. An English woman smiled at me: “What is your new name?”

“Shitbodhi.”

Again everybody around me cracked up laughing.

She hugged me. “I was in your Darshan. I heard you. You idiot, it’s Chitbodhi,” and repeated it a few times, slowly. She then let me repeat it a few times and… now I got it, the small difference: Chit not Shit.

“So what did he say to you?”

“I don’t remember. It’s all a blank.”

Another guy said: “Consciousness and Awareness, your name means that.”

I still didn’t get it. Neither of those two words had I ever heard before.

Now I was what they call a Sannyasin. Didn’t have an idea what that meant and didn’t have an idea why I did it. But it didn’t matter. I chose this and that was all that counted.

Even until today, 7th November 2014, as I write this, I never doubted my decision for a second. What happened then in the past was me, and is me for all these years until today!

I have two names.

My legal name: Karl Ludwig Malczok. I never liked the names Karl and Ludwig much, to be honest. To be named after all these German kings of the past. Such boring names!

My Name: Chitbodhi.

I am Chitbodhi, and the hundreds, maybe thousands of friends and people I have met around the world know me by this name.

I am Chitbodhi.

I love it!

Encounter Group

A 7-day, 24-hour group; no talking allowed to anybody outside it.

Just as an explanation for those readers who are not so familiar with therapy groups or therapists:
You have a problem, you go to a therapist. You talk – he listens. You pay, or your insurance pays – you feel good. Great. Does it help? No, you never get to the bottom of your problem and solve it.

Best result is if you can talk about yourself. For many people that’s already something, but you could have that also for free by sitting in a pub and getting drunk with your friends.

A therapy group: You still haven’t solved your problem. Next step: solve it with other people.

A group makes it easier and you will find out that many have the same problem as you have. You feel better because you are not alone. My guess: 90% of what groups are offered today are real rubbish. But some are good and you might just make a breakthrough for yourself.

Encounter group: Well, no hiding in that group.

For me this was how it was:

1st Day

12 people: 6 men, 6 women. A small room, dimmed light, floor and walls covered with mattresses. We all sat along the walls. People’s anticipation, that this was a heavy group with lots of violence and fights, exploded right away into exactly that. Fighting with bare fists started immediately.

Fear. Fear I have never felt before. Fear of violence, fear of fighting. I was terrified. I couldn’t look into anybody’s eyes. I was afraid that if I looked, they might notice this small self and my fear, and pick a fight with me. Other people fought. So much violence exploded that first day and blood was running and teeth got knocked out. Where did all this violence come from, in almost all of us?

One German finally got up and wanted to fight with me. No gloves, bare hands, he was smaller than me and less strong than me. That gave me some confidence and I was not so much afraid. We fought – no blood, and the fight was stopped by the group leader Teertha. I was so glad.

2nd Day

So much fear but luckily I was not involved in fighting. Some blood, some sex. Another day of violence and also moments of happiness for some. 24 hours is a very long time together with 11 others; all hoping that some learning is happening.

3rd Day

A very blissful day and I started to relax. Group sex, never done that before and a beautiful and very sexy Dutch woman really liked me. No fights the whole day. A happy day for me. My only fight had been the first day and I had looked good fighting. I thought that was it for me. I didn’t get hurt. I thought the happiness would continue now.

4th Day

How wrong I was. The most violent day of all, with one broken leg, a broken toe and lots of blood, and in the night session some sex.

In the afternoon session I get challenged by a big guy, strong, much stronger than me, no gloves, a Brit with dark and angry eyes: Oh my shit! We fight. I look good. I can keep up. He is not as bad as I thought. I am surprised. I get hit – no problem. He gets hit – taking it easy.

“Wow,” I thought. “I am standing my ground. Now the leader should stop the fight.”

That was just the wrong thought to think. In that moment the guy knocked me out. I actually saw stars circling in my head. So the comic books are right… There are stars to be seen!

He stood over me, angry and ready to beat the shit out of me. He didn’t attack further; probably the group leader had given him a signal not to attack me while I was on the floor. I came round slowly. Suddenly I locked into his eyes, focusing on them and staring right back, unblinking. He gave me the time to get up.

I was up. The fight continued. But now everything was different. I attacked him. Never before had I felt that power in me. The fear was gone. Thoughts were gone. It was just pure power with no limitations. I hit and hit and hit, totally overwhelming him.

The group leader stopped the fight. I would have killed him.

We both sat in front of the group leader, Teertha.

Teertha asked us if we knew what had happened. I don’t remember today what was said. Later in life sometimes – thinking back – I know what had happened. The fear of violence was suddenly gone. And I have never felt it since.

Final days in the group

The last three days went by like the first. No more fighting for me. Nobody challenged me for another fight. No more fear in me. And if they would have, I was ready. An amazing feeling really.

Yes, it was the hardest group. Nothing more to say.

Many of you reading this now will probably think: This is illegal. How can groups like these be allowed? People are not violent like that for no reason. I am not violent.

It’s a pressure cooker situation. Like you make popcorn: you put in a little oil, add the corn, close the lid and apply heat – and inside you will hear violent explosions, the corn forced to explode.

Violence will always be there in all of us if we are put into these situations. And this is exploited by people running this planet. To send soldiers into a war, to Iraq or Afghanistan, is a situation like a pressure cooker. What comes out is violence, and soldiers lose control. In a war like this, fuck the Geneva Conventions, manmade rules of conduct that nobody can really put into reality. Soldiers have to be deprived of happiness and harmony, put in isolation and shown an enemy. An emotional release can only be allowed in the form of sex of the coldest kind, a prostitute situation.

Soldiers who are shooting kids and old women, and are part of massacres, should not be blamed at all, in my view. The leaders, yes, the ones who send them to war. Cowards in- and outside; like the Bushes, Obamas, Assads, Netanyahus, to mention just a few. They are the manipulators; they should have their balls cut off and hung on the closest tree five minutes later. These are the real monsters, not the soldiers.

After finishing the Encounter Group I was on a high, and decided to now also taste working in the ashram.

To be continued…

From chapter 14 (edited) of Chitbodhi’s book, One Life

Oberhausen College – too good to be true – From Chitbodhi’s memoir, One Life. Co-protagonists are: “A teacher, Dr. L. and 26 incredible classmates!”
Holzkamp – Chitbodhi remembers events during his days at Uni in Berlin
Squatting a Church (16 December 1977) – Chapter 8
A sudden decision – A Long Read from chapter 13
Follow the whole series of excerpts on Osho News: One Life by Chitbodhi