Letter to my Master

An invitation

During a sharing circle, one of the facilitators asked us what our intention was for the retreat that was about to begin. I didn’t really know – only that I was following an inner voice that had led me all the way from São Paulo to Imbituba, in Santa Catarina, on Brazil’s southern coast.

The words that came out of my mouth were: “An invitation.”

I was at a Satsang Weekend to meet a master – who was highly spoken of – and his community. This was the sannyasin and former bodyguard of Osho, Vasant Swaha, who that weekend offered a retreat filled with meditations, therapeutic activities, and, of course, Satsang in his presence.

The venue, Mevlana Garden, is a beautiful and spacious guesthouse beside a lake, surrounded by nature. It includes a stunning temple built especially to host Swaha’s retreats and satsangs. Needless to say, the place radiates peace and tranquillity.

Held by “something greater”

We began the retreat on Friday evening with Kundalini Meditation. There were just over a hundred people shaking and dancing with full intensity. Kundalini is my sweet spot – it resonates deeply in me, especially when done in a group. As always, I loved spinning wildly during the dance stage – I kept bumping into people or tumbling onto a nearby mat, and sometimes, who knows where I’d end up… At one point, I knocked over a “chair” made of cushions that a participant had carefully prepared for themselves before the meditation, to sit in during the silent stage. Oops! I laughed.

I had to hold myself back – in both the dance and my mischief. This wasn’t my home after all…

Still a bit dazed after the meditation, I had a quick dinner of the delicious food and went out to enjoy the fresh night air. Then I started crying. Something inside of me needed to be released – to be cleansed.

Later that evening, during the therapeutic exercise that closed the first day, I understood why. We were asked to simulate how we usually move through our daily lives. I live in a big city – literally a concrete jungle where everything happens fast – so there I was, walking through the temple like a jet, worn out from the long journey. Yet I also rediscovered how joyful it can be to meet new people, to look into their eyes, and to feel at ease.

It had been a long time since I’d joined an active meditation or taken part in a retreat. As I drifted off to sleep, I could feel something had been stirred within me and been brought to the surface. In the middle of the night I began having strange, vivid dreams until, at one point, I started screaming.

My roommate, who had been fast asleep, instantly began saying: “It’s all right! It’s all right! It’s all right!”

I looked at him and relaxed. Then I told him about the dream and said, “How odd! It’s as if you had sensed what was happening, and immediately came to my rescue.”

He replied, “I don’t even know how. I was asleep, and suddenly I started saying that it was all right.”

We both laughed and joked about it: “Seems like the retreat organisers decided to put us two nutters in the same room,” I said.

And just like that, one of those retreat friendships began – the kind only participants truly understand.

After that, I tried to find a point of stillness where I wasn’t caught up in my mind. I relaxed and went back to sleep. Nothing else happened. I felt held – cared for, in that therapeutic field, by something greater.

Satsang

The second day started with more meditations and group activities. As the programme unfolded, I felt myself releasing tension and softening inside.

I love the exercises that bring us back to being children, because that’s exactly what I am – a playful, mischievous spirit. Whenever those moments come, something wild and funny bursts out of me, followed by laughter. In those moments, I’m the king!

I must admit, I was a little nervous before the Satsang. I had never been in the presence of a living Master in his community before. Before Swaha entered, we all sat in silence. It was moving to see how his disciples received him, bowing in spontaneous synchronicity out of respect.

He was cheerful, playful, and full of love. My thoughts fell quiet, as if I were a still lake with no ripples.

He answered questions from his sannyasins. One of them asked how he viewed the current state of the world.

“The world is tremendously beautiful. Look at this temple, the smiling faces, the tears in people’s eyes…” he replied with such grace.

After he left, we all remained in that space for quite some time. That night I slept like a baby – for the first time in ages.

Please, give me a Satsang every night!

It seemed to me that the entire retreat – designed by Swaha – was not only about preparing us for the Satsang, but also about integrating what had been released through the meditations. The meditations brought everything to the surface, and during Satsang, all of it was absorbed and dissolved in silence and stillness.

I intend to go back again.

The beach and a love letter

The last day began early once again. I loved one of the morning meditations: walking silently through Mevlana Garden and simply feeling life all around us. The sound of the birds, the murmur of the water, the colours of the flowers… how wonderful it is to be in touch with life – without a phone, fully present, pulsing in harmony.

After lunch, I used the free time in the schedule – before the final Satsang that would close the retreat – to visit Ibiraquera Beach, which I hadn’t yet seen. The beach was completely deserted, and what unfolded there was a deeply personal moment with myself.

I loved watching the sea meet the clouds, like a painting come to life. The cold water made me laugh out loud. The wind carried grains of sand over my feet – what a marvellous meeting between the two.

I found a sand dune that looked untouched by human feet. Wow, so beautiful! I said to myself. I ran down the dune, sat in the middle, and began letting sand fall over my legs down to my feet, feeling its texture slipping through my fingers.

Then I found a flower growing in the middle of the beach. How rare is that?

I was a child in the garden.

I only came to understand the depth of that experience later, on the bus ride home. As I recalled it, I cried deeply, holding my Osho mala in my hands.

It was a mixture of gratitude and sadness.

I realised he had guided me to that beach. We had gone together, hand in hand – like a child and a loving father. When the child saw he had the beach all to himself, he let go of his father’s hand and ran off to play. He spent hours completely absorbed. But when he turned around, he could no longer see his beloved father. Papa, where are you? Why aren’t you here with me?

That’s when I understood: the Master cannot go with you. He will walk with you to the door – and then he leaves. You must enter the Divine on your own.

And as I had seen during the Satsangs – the Master reading his disciples’ love letters – I thought to myself: “I never had the chance to write one for my Master. I know he is with me, but I never saw him in person, and he cannot read it, like Swaha does, to our Sangha.”

But, here it is:

Beloved Master,

I wish you could come with me.
You have been with me through every moment of my life.
You were there, holding my hand –
With all your love and care.

Do you remember the time we danced together in the mirror?
Do you remember when I hugged Jacque and my eyes met yours?
Do you remember my first song that was released?

You were – and are – in every beat of my heart.

In my eyes,
in my dances,
in my words,
in my struggles –

I have nothing but gratitude for you.

When I walk through the door,
Don’t give me your last look.
I’m not looking for you anymore.
I’m already looking for the door.

But I can feel you behind me…
with all your pride and love for this beloved and crazy disciple.

With love,

Maitreya
13 October 2025

Images credit to Vasant Swaha’s website and Danielle Suijkerbuijk via unsplash.com