April 27
Back in New York. Found the apartment reasonably neat and clean, though of course no soap, light bulbs, toilet paper or laundry soap. I have too many possessions, too much of everything. After the way I have been living, I see the vivid the contrast to my old way of life. I can live with far less.
The flight was easy. I took over three seats in the middle to sleep, which I did fitfully, and U.G. had our two. I was tired all day yesterday but busy getting settled.
Luna came up for lunch. Good to see her, though she is filled with doubt about my relationship to, my dependence on U.G. I felt removed from what she was saying, but not defensive.
My relationship to U.G. is whatever it is. I will never understand it, never be able to describe or define it.
I am being put to the test. Everyone wants to know what is going on, why I am doing what I'm doing. And amazingly enough, it seems easy to talk about it in a general sort of way, to emphasize that I am doing what I want to do, that this is my life now, for the present, and perhaps forever.
Have told people who call to wait a few days to see U.G. so he can rest. In the late afternoon we went up to St. Luke's hospital to see Dan who has been sick in there for over three months. We had heard about his acute illness in Melbourne from Bud Barber.
The visit seemed to mean a great deal to Dan. U.G. was quiet, but lovely, and I did most of the talking. Dan was fifty pounds thinner and actually looked good. U.G. said he was low on life energy, but would probably get better. After about fifteen minutes, U.G. motioned to me that he was ready to go, very simply, easily.
On the way home we stopped at Woolworths and bought a tray for the tapes, to keep them in order. He had seen it, on sale for $10, on one of his walks to the post office and xerox shop. Since we have been back in New York, he has gone out several times, each for nearly four hours, once to Macy's and once to Bloomingdale's, and said he window shopped in electronic stores on the way home. He is independent and strong, in his own way.
A bad sleepless night. Wanted to take Valium or drink vodka but did neither, a triumph. Today I am exhausted and drained. But I forced myself to stand my mind's machinations, mostly about the apartment, Maine, my daughter. I feel as if I am going through death throes, as if part of me is being drowned, strangled. My past is so vivid here, the presence of my children so palpable, my friends. I am indecently detached, unable to generate any desire to see anybody, rote calling, rote calls. I make dates, then push them off to a later date, as if I just don't want to be bothered with explanations, descriptions.
All of this is so new and I am uncomfortable, fine as long as I'm with U.G., but away from him estranged and strange. Yet even so, somehow surviving.
So much paper work. My old indecisiveness sprang up, having to do with clinging to this apartment. U.G. has told me loud and clear that he doesn't want my decision about it to be influenced by him, his needs. He is making Mill Valley his base for the present time, not New York. If it is available, he will stay here, otherwise not.
I am having a hard time sleeping, night after night of restlessness. I know it is holding onto the past, trying to have all this and heaven too. This is U.G.'s basic teaching. I can't even give up a piece of clothing, let alone an apartment and a way of life, so how can I say I want freedom? How can I aspire to be with him when I also want to be with my old life in part, to continue to maintain access to the old comforts and ways of living.
The comfort and perfection of this apartment is outmoded for me now, though I lose sight of it when I am here. My life is changing, this will no longer appeal to me, no longer be enough. I tried that and didn't want it. So now I am trying this, being with U.G., giving up my life to him and it has to be 100%.
The last few days have been busy and I am still not decided about whether to go on with him to India or to return to New York after London and take care of things. Steve L., a film maker, and Stanley Cohen from ABC, have been spending time here looking at the videos and giving suggestions for the documentary. The overall opinion seems to be that the footage is good, broadcast quality, and that there is more than enough material to make several films. I am happy to hear this. Surprisingly, I have been detached from this work, doing it but not concerned with the outcome. As close to Karma yoga as I have ever been, not knowing if it is good or bad, only that I am doing my best.
U.G. has been harsh and critical, and I think this has contributed to my detachment. If he had been full of compliments, I would probably have become involved in an egoic way. But since the job had to be done, and only I could do it (only because I was there), I did it, as well as I could. And it turns out to be okay.
I am wrestling with my past, and with my loyalties and ties. I know there is no effort in this great endeavor and all I have to do is follow my heart. U.G. encourages me to do all I can for my daughter, my mother, etc. He was all for my giving my daughter the dress. "Money should be no object," he said.
Yesterday, talking about foundations and tax free institutions (so one could give money and deduct from taxes), he said nothing will be formed in his name, but I should form one myself, he will give me all the spiritual experiences I need to set up a holy business. I know he is kidding, but I am curious whether he could transmit these experiences if he wanted to. Probably, and if so what they are like, the nature of them.
It now seems clear to me that this is what happened with all those so-called realized teachers, people, gurus. Some understanding was reached, either through the pushing of a teacher, or spontaneously and this experience was translated into enlightenment, moksha, liberation. The immediate desire when one has this experience is to share it, to pass it on to mankind, to teach.
One can only experience the known. What is not known cannot be experienced. As long as one has an experience, as long as there is an experiencer, one who is experiencing, telling about it, thinking about it, it is only an experience. What is not an experience is not known, as there is no knower. I cannot get this because I cannot grasp, with the conceptual mind, what has never been experienced, what is outside of the frame of prior experience, knowledge.
So this so-called moksha that these people are talking about is only the actual experiencing of what is known in all spiritual traditions, what is sought, striven for. What is sought and striven for is known, otherwise one could not strive for it. Clearing the mind is actually clouding the mind further, creating more delusion rather than clarity.
I have never even had an experience. All I know of these things is what I have read and been told. Spiritual teachers experienced something. They then can’t wait to teach, to pass it on, but what they are striving to pass on, is not the genuine article, only a petty experience. So that explains that. Doesn’t it?
What a major message this is to mankind. Everyone is striving for something that simply does not exist. If one were to become like U.G. one would die, really die, and we do not want that. He says, "If I could give you even a tiny taste of this, you would not want to touch it with a barge pole." I believe him He is so clear to me now. I cannot give up my apartment so how can I give up my life?
As for U.G., I am at one with him, completely at ease and full of respect and adoration. His patience with my agonies is boundless and I bow to him in my heart.
Being back in New York is both pleasurable and strange. I know my life is finished here, but I am clinging to it nonetheless. I make dates with friends, call them up to say hello. Then I cancel the dates because I really don't have time to be with them, don't want to be away from U.G.
U.G. pointed out to me that I ask dumb questions, 'Cedellanian thinking' he calls it. I do this in an attempt to make contact, sound bright, interested. He showed me the difference between people who ask what they really want to know, who are struggling with their burning, basic questions in an attempt to get them off their back, and my own rather lame-brained, naive ones. I instantly agreed that these were not burning questions at all. Have I ever had a burning question?
A good one at this point is why am I going through this struggle to live and travel with an enlightened master, why am I dedicating my life to him if I am not interested in enlightenment? Either I don't know what I am interested in or I am interested in having a mission (also likely). Or there is something mysterious guiding my actions.
My questioning is absurd. There is a childlike 'notice me, I'm talking' quality to it and it reminds me of my mother, asking her same old question for the millionth time, "But are we supposed to be passive, do nothing for the world, sit on our duff?"
My daughter and my mother have gone. U.G. was patient and kind to my mother. She attributes this niceness to ulterior motives, that he is doing it to "get her approval" for my life with him. Typical.
She told him she was worried about her mind, having Alzheimers. U.G. said it's not Alzheimers, losing memory is just a sign of aging, he too is losing his memory. She tried again to tell U.G. about her cats, worrying about them. U.G. said, "If not cats, we'd worry about something else. Worry is about the past, you are more interested in beneficial results."
He told her that the mere repetition of thought and action is really senility, it has nothing to do with old age, worry is always in the past and future. She said she didn't like the idea of inaction, of passivity, of being a vegetable.
U.G. said, "Am I a vegetable? I'm not a vegetable. I'm not impelled to do anything at all, so I'm doing all the time. Action is going on all the time, any action born out of thought is reaction, the action I am speaking about is response. I don't see any passivity there...What are you doing?"
Mom: "Damned if I know!"
U.G.: "You have plenty of guideposts, why do you want more? Why ask the meaning of life? If you haven't understood the meaning in 84 years, when are you going to understand?"
~ ~
I read a letter Donald wrote me to U.G. today, in which he sent me courage to deal with the difficulties associated with change and U.G. smiled. He said "Yes, Donald could be psychic, but he also knows U.G. He knows that things can never be the same, there is no going back. That being so close to U.G. is being in the fire."
Full moon in Scorpio 18, right on my ascendant! It feels that way, too. I feel as if Pluto is there too, though it is retrograde and moving back just a little. The real crossing is December of this year. And I imagine I will be in India then, with U.G.
The fact is I don't know my own mind, I don't know what I want. I see so clearly that the neurotic situation is wanting two things at once, for instance, wanting money and to be free, and wanting property and comfort here. Wanting to be independent of my children, but also wanting closeness and harmony with them. I want to be free of these conflicts, but I have to ask myself, "What am I prepared to give up for this peace?"
The decision seems to center around Maine, now. I am being called to separate from it, tell the kids if they want it to pay, and that I need to make money from it, not pay for it. It probably must be liquidated, sold. I would like to keep it. I would like to keep this place as well. But I cannot.
Celia called the other day and came up for dinner. She seemed disjointed to me, scattered. As she was leaving, she asked about a mark on my face (where Dr. Zalar froze a patch of itchy skin), and then without asking, laid on her hands. I endured the healing for a while, but was reminded of the Emperor's New Clothes quality of my Jungian analysis, not to mention Herry's deep relaxations and visualizations.
"How," asked U.G. after she left, "do you think the life energy can be manipulated by someone outside, by an 'other'? Impossible."
Agony. It is just everything. The pressure of renting my apartment, leaving in less than a week, making moves with my mother and children; it is excruciating. "You can't do it," taunts U.G., meaning, "You don't want to do it." If I wanted to, I could. If I want to I will.
Too long to go into and it has been going on for days. I make a decision about the apartment and then reverse it, regret it, feel anxious and angry. U.G. is pushing hard on me, making me sweat. I am on the brink of making the move, making the shift. I can feel it. I love him and hate him. I want to weep with gratitude and shake him with rage.
He is provoking me endlessly, insulting, teasing, telling me I have no place with him, too many attachments, obligations. He even did it in front of my mother, giving her ammunition, if she wants or needs it. What do I care? I just have to do this, to free myself. I am in bondage now, to my children, to my mother, to the world.
I am guilt-ridden, terrified.
~ ~
Karen, Mom and I drove up to Bennington for my daughter's concert. It was fantastic. She is beautiful, talented, intelligent and rich. What more could one ask?
My daughter wanted to know, last night, why I was in such a rush to leave with U.G. I said, merely, that I want to go, it is all or nothing. Either I go now, or I don't go. I'm sure this is the case. It is, in any event, the case for me. It is now that I must make the break. Not tomorrow.
Have I perhaps learned something from U.G. after all? Something has let go of me this morning. I am no longer strangled by this conflict. I see that there is no reason for conflict. I am merely leaving now with U.G. and everything will fall into place.
He said the other day you must cut the roots and let the tree fall as it will. Cutting the roots for me is taking a decision, any decision, about this apartment. It is telling Sidney and the others I want out of Maine. It is leaving now, because U.G. is leaving now, not waiting for my daughter's graduation. If my children's love for me is centered on my being available to them, at my own expense, then it is not love. If their love for me is tied up with money, it is not love.
I don't feel worried. No, to the contrary I feel delightfully free and happy. Even if U.G. were to really send me away, I would be fine. I don't know what I would do. My life is his life right now, that is all I want. That is what I want, right for me, satisfying.
Luna and Stanley are here constantly now, helping U.G. with the editing of the film. A very intense and powerful teaching is going on, subtly. We are learning to see reality in a new way, that we are only our conditioning, our ideas, our fear.
Stanley disagreed with me that this issue of leaving is "black and white." He felt there is a grey area, one which might permit me to leave later, be here for my daughter's graduation. I said no, adamantly. U.G. said there is no grey area. Nor is there a black or a white. There is only one action.
Luna asked U.G. if he'd never had the experience of anyone else 'blowing up'?
U.G. answered, "How does it interest me if there's someone else there. If he's there, he's there. The rose isn't interested in jasmine."
He said, "Self-consciousness separated us from the rest of life around us, and religious thinking was born out of that, to fill up the loneliness, separated us from the life around. God is the ultimate pleasure. All ideologies are warty outgrowths of the religious thinking of man. Anyone can hazard an opinion as to how self-consciousness began. Separation led to loneliness which we filled in with fear. There's no such thing as happiness. I really don't know what happiness is so I can't be unhappy. You know what happiness is. Naming and recognition itself is a separation."
I feel reborn. It is over, at least for now, the fear, the doubt. I plunged into lunch with S., telling him firmly and fearlessly where I stood on Maine. That I wanted out of the expenses this year and that I intended to enforce my ownership of the property, because I was entitled to it, needed it. I stood against his protestations that the intention had been for it to go to the children, I explained in detail what transpired when it was returned to me a few years ago.
And as I stood up to him, I felt him respect and accept my position, against all odds. And as this happened, I felt flooded with good will and love towards him. My heart was open and joyful.
When I returned to the apartment after lunch, I was tingling with an ecstatic energy. I had entered a place of freedom from fear. I had seen earlier at the doctor's, waiting, that I am only fear, fear of death, fear of rejection.
This is temporary, but a sample of what it would be like to just act without fearing the outcome, thinking of ramifications, playing the odds. Take a decision and if it is wrong, pay the consequences.
U.G.'s teaching is wonderful. How clear it is that we want all this and Heaven too. Giving up the hold on this is freeing, ever so slightly, to be in that. But there is no that, and no this either.
I went on to talk to Mike, cancel Marcia out of Maine this summer because it was up to the kids to invite people, not me. Each time there was clear and positive response because I was clear and positive. Amazing.
~ ~
Summing up New York. I have not had enough time, have been rushed and scattered. But so much has happened. U.G. has done most of the editing, with the loyal and devoted help of Luna and Stanley. I in turn have been free, more or less, to tend to my apartment, my daughter and other matters. I am, after all, leaving again for four months.
The pressure I was under with U.G. was agonizing, excruciating at times, but the outcome has been amazing. I am actually leaving, with the apartment rented and Maine out in the open and under consideration by all concerned. I have focused on my dilemma with the kids, that they walk all over me because I walk all over myself, that things have to change, and in fact, have changed.
U.G. said the other days that change being the nature of things, we would be damn fools if we didn't go along with it, freely, without resistance.
He also said, asked about his traveling that, "I am myself the traveling." There is no separation, no one who is doing the traveling.
The flight was easy. I took over three seats in the middle to sleep, which I did fitfully, and U.G. had our two. I was tired all day yesterday but busy getting settled.
Luna came up for lunch. Good to see her, though she is filled with doubt about my relationship to, my dependence on U.G. I felt removed from what she was saying, but not defensive.
My relationship to U.G. is whatever it is. I will never understand it, never be able to describe or define it.
April 28
I am being put to the test. Everyone wants to know what is going on, why I am doing what I'm doing. And amazingly enough, it seems easy to talk about it in a general sort of way, to emphasize that I am doing what I want to do, that this is my life now, for the present, and perhaps forever.
Have told people who call to wait a few days to see U.G. so he can rest. In the late afternoon we went up to St. Luke's hospital to see Dan who has been sick in there for over three months. We had heard about his acute illness in Melbourne from Bud Barber.
The visit seemed to mean a great deal to Dan. U.G. was quiet, but lovely, and I did most of the talking. Dan was fifty pounds thinner and actually looked good. U.G. said he was low on life energy, but would probably get better. After about fifteen minutes, U.G. motioned to me that he was ready to go, very simply, easily.
On the way home we stopped at Woolworths and bought a tray for the tapes, to keep them in order. He had seen it, on sale for $10, on one of his walks to the post office and xerox shop. Since we have been back in New York, he has gone out several times, each for nearly four hours, once to Macy's and once to Bloomingdale's, and said he window shopped in electronic stores on the way home. He is independent and strong, in his own way.
April 29
A bad sleepless night. Wanted to take Valium or drink vodka but did neither, a triumph. Today I am exhausted and drained. But I forced myself to stand my mind's machinations, mostly about the apartment, Maine, my daughter. I feel as if I am going through death throes, as if part of me is being drowned, strangled. My past is so vivid here, the presence of my children so palpable, my friends. I am indecently detached, unable to generate any desire to see anybody, rote calling, rote calls. I make dates, then push them off to a later date, as if I just don't want to be bothered with explanations, descriptions.
All of this is so new and I am uncomfortable, fine as long as I'm with U.G., but away from him estranged and strange. Yet even so, somehow surviving.
May 3
So much paper work. My old indecisiveness sprang up, having to do with clinging to this apartment. U.G. has told me loud and clear that he doesn't want my decision about it to be influenced by him, his needs. He is making Mill Valley his base for the present time, not New York. If it is available, he will stay here, otherwise not.
I am having a hard time sleeping, night after night of restlessness. I know it is holding onto the past, trying to have all this and heaven too. This is U.G.'s basic teaching. I can't even give up a piece of clothing, let alone an apartment and a way of life, so how can I say I want freedom? How can I aspire to be with him when I also want to be with my old life in part, to continue to maintain access to the old comforts and ways of living.
The comfort and perfection of this apartment is outmoded for me now, though I lose sight of it when I am here. My life is changing, this will no longer appeal to me, no longer be enough. I tried that and didn't want it. So now I am trying this, being with U.G., giving up my life to him and it has to be 100%.
The last few days have been busy and I am still not decided about whether to go on with him to India or to return to New York after London and take care of things. Steve L., a film maker, and Stanley Cohen from ABC, have been spending time here looking at the videos and giving suggestions for the documentary. The overall opinion seems to be that the footage is good, broadcast quality, and that there is more than enough material to make several films. I am happy to hear this. Surprisingly, I have been detached from this work, doing it but not concerned with the outcome. As close to Karma yoga as I have ever been, not knowing if it is good or bad, only that I am doing my best.
U.G. has been harsh and critical, and I think this has contributed to my detachment. If he had been full of compliments, I would probably have become involved in an egoic way. But since the job had to be done, and only I could do it (only because I was there), I did it, as well as I could. And it turns out to be okay.
I am wrestling with my past, and with my loyalties and ties. I know there is no effort in this great endeavor and all I have to do is follow my heart. U.G. encourages me to do all I can for my daughter, my mother, etc. He was all for my giving my daughter the dress. "Money should be no object," he said.
Yesterday, talking about foundations and tax free institutions (so one could give money and deduct from taxes), he said nothing will be formed in his name, but I should form one myself, he will give me all the spiritual experiences I need to set up a holy business. I know he is kidding, but I am curious whether he could transmit these experiences if he wanted to. Probably, and if so what they are like, the nature of them.
It now seems clear to me that this is what happened with all those so-called realized teachers, people, gurus. Some understanding was reached, either through the pushing of a teacher, or spontaneously and this experience was translated into enlightenment, moksha, liberation. The immediate desire when one has this experience is to share it, to pass it on to mankind, to teach.
One can only experience the known. What is not known cannot be experienced. As long as one has an experience, as long as there is an experiencer, one who is experiencing, telling about it, thinking about it, it is only an experience. What is not an experience is not known, as there is no knower. I cannot get this because I cannot grasp, with the conceptual mind, what has never been experienced, what is outside of the frame of prior experience, knowledge.
So this so-called moksha that these people are talking about is only the actual experiencing of what is known in all spiritual traditions, what is sought, striven for. What is sought and striven for is known, otherwise one could not strive for it. Clearing the mind is actually clouding the mind further, creating more delusion rather than clarity.
I have never even had an experience. All I know of these things is what I have read and been told. Spiritual teachers experienced something. They then can’t wait to teach, to pass it on, but what they are striving to pass on, is not the genuine article, only a petty experience. So that explains that. Doesn’t it?
What a major message this is to mankind. Everyone is striving for something that simply does not exist. If one were to become like U.G. one would die, really die, and we do not want that. He says, "If I could give you even a tiny taste of this, you would not want to touch it with a barge pole." I believe him He is so clear to me now. I cannot give up my apartment so how can I give up my life?
As for U.G., I am at one with him, completely at ease and full of respect and adoration. His patience with my agonies is boundless and I bow to him in my heart.
Being back in New York is both pleasurable and strange. I know my life is finished here, but I am clinging to it nonetheless. I make dates with friends, call them up to say hello. Then I cancel the dates because I really don't have time to be with them, don't want to be away from U.G.
May 5
U.G. pointed out to me that I ask dumb questions, 'Cedellanian thinking' he calls it. I do this in an attempt to make contact, sound bright, interested. He showed me the difference between people who ask what they really want to know, who are struggling with their burning, basic questions in an attempt to get them off their back, and my own rather lame-brained, naive ones. I instantly agreed that these were not burning questions at all. Have I ever had a burning question?
A good one at this point is why am I going through this struggle to live and travel with an enlightened master, why am I dedicating my life to him if I am not interested in enlightenment? Either I don't know what I am interested in or I am interested in having a mission (also likely). Or there is something mysterious guiding my actions.
My questioning is absurd. There is a childlike 'notice me, I'm talking' quality to it and it reminds me of my mother, asking her same old question for the millionth time, "But are we supposed to be passive, do nothing for the world, sit on our duff?"
May 7
My daughter and my mother have gone. U.G. was patient and kind to my mother. She attributes this niceness to ulterior motives, that he is doing it to "get her approval" for my life with him. Typical.
She told him she was worried about her mind, having Alzheimers. U.G. said it's not Alzheimers, losing memory is just a sign of aging, he too is losing his memory. She tried again to tell U.G. about her cats, worrying about them. U.G. said, "If not cats, we'd worry about something else. Worry is about the past, you are more interested in beneficial results."
He told her that the mere repetition of thought and action is really senility, it has nothing to do with old age, worry is always in the past and future. She said she didn't like the idea of inaction, of passivity, of being a vegetable.
U.G. said, "Am I a vegetable? I'm not a vegetable. I'm not impelled to do anything at all, so I'm doing all the time. Action is going on all the time, any action born out of thought is reaction, the action I am speaking about is response. I don't see any passivity there...What are you doing?"
Mom: "Damned if I know!"
U.G.: "You have plenty of guideposts, why do you want more? Why ask the meaning of life? If you haven't understood the meaning in 84 years, when are you going to understand?"
~ ~
I read a letter Donald wrote me to U.G. today, in which he sent me courage to deal with the difficulties associated with change and U.G. smiled. He said "Yes, Donald could be psychic, but he also knows U.G. He knows that things can never be the same, there is no going back. That being so close to U.G. is being in the fire."
May 9
Full moon in Scorpio 18, right on my ascendant! It feels that way, too. I feel as if Pluto is there too, though it is retrograde and moving back just a little. The real crossing is December of this year. And I imagine I will be in India then, with U.G.
The fact is I don't know my own mind, I don't know what I want. I see so clearly that the neurotic situation is wanting two things at once, for instance, wanting money and to be free, and wanting property and comfort here. Wanting to be independent of my children, but also wanting closeness and harmony with them. I want to be free of these conflicts, but I have to ask myself, "What am I prepared to give up for this peace?"
The decision seems to center around Maine, now. I am being called to separate from it, tell the kids if they want it to pay, and that I need to make money from it, not pay for it. It probably must be liquidated, sold. I would like to keep it. I would like to keep this place as well. But I cannot.
May 10
Celia called the other day and came up for dinner. She seemed disjointed to me, scattered. As she was leaving, she asked about a mark on my face (where Dr. Zalar froze a patch of itchy skin), and then without asking, laid on her hands. I endured the healing for a while, but was reminded of the Emperor's New Clothes quality of my Jungian analysis, not to mention Herry's deep relaxations and visualizations.
"How," asked U.G. after she left, "do you think the life energy can be manipulated by someone outside, by an 'other'? Impossible."
May 16
Agony. It is just everything. The pressure of renting my apartment, leaving in less than a week, making moves with my mother and children; it is excruciating. "You can't do it," taunts U.G., meaning, "You don't want to do it." If I wanted to, I could. If I want to I will.
Too long to go into and it has been going on for days. I make a decision about the apartment and then reverse it, regret it, feel anxious and angry. U.G. is pushing hard on me, making me sweat. I am on the brink of making the move, making the shift. I can feel it. I love him and hate him. I want to weep with gratitude and shake him with rage.
He is provoking me endlessly, insulting, teasing, telling me I have no place with him, too many attachments, obligations. He even did it in front of my mother, giving her ammunition, if she wants or needs it. What do I care? I just have to do this, to free myself. I am in bondage now, to my children, to my mother, to the world.
I am guilt-ridden, terrified.
~ ~
Karen, Mom and I drove up to Bennington for my daughter's concert. It was fantastic. She is beautiful, talented, intelligent and rich. What more could one ask?
My daughter wanted to know, last night, why I was in such a rush to leave with U.G. I said, merely, that I want to go, it is all or nothing. Either I go now, or I don't go. I'm sure this is the case. It is, in any event, the case for me. It is now that I must make the break. Not tomorrow.
Have I perhaps learned something from U.G. after all? Something has let go of me this morning. I am no longer strangled by this conflict. I see that there is no reason for conflict. I am merely leaving now with U.G. and everything will fall into place.
He said the other day you must cut the roots and let the tree fall as it will. Cutting the roots for me is taking a decision, any decision, about this apartment. It is telling Sidney and the others I want out of Maine. It is leaving now, because U.G. is leaving now, not waiting for my daughter's graduation. If my children's love for me is centered on my being available to them, at my own expense, then it is not love. If their love for me is tied up with money, it is not love.
I don't feel worried. No, to the contrary I feel delightfully free and happy. Even if U.G. were to really send me away, I would be fine. I don't know what I would do. My life is his life right now, that is all I want. That is what I want, right for me, satisfying.
Luna and Stanley are here constantly now, helping U.G. with the editing of the film. A very intense and powerful teaching is going on, subtly. We are learning to see reality in a new way, that we are only our conditioning, our ideas, our fear.
Stanley disagreed with me that this issue of leaving is "black and white." He felt there is a grey area, one which might permit me to leave later, be here for my daughter's graduation. I said no, adamantly. U.G. said there is no grey area. Nor is there a black or a white. There is only one action.
Luna asked U.G. if he'd never had the experience of anyone else 'blowing up'?
U.G. answered, "How does it interest me if there's someone else there. If he's there, he's there. The rose isn't interested in jasmine."
He said, "Self-consciousness separated us from the rest of life around us, and religious thinking was born out of that, to fill up the loneliness, separated us from the life around. God is the ultimate pleasure. All ideologies are warty outgrowths of the religious thinking of man. Anyone can hazard an opinion as to how self-consciousness began. Separation led to loneliness which we filled in with fear. There's no such thing as happiness. I really don't know what happiness is so I can't be unhappy. You know what happiness is. Naming and recognition itself is a separation."
May 18
I feel reborn. It is over, at least for now, the fear, the doubt. I plunged into lunch with S., telling him firmly and fearlessly where I stood on Maine. That I wanted out of the expenses this year and that I intended to enforce my ownership of the property, because I was entitled to it, needed it. I stood against his protestations that the intention had been for it to go to the children, I explained in detail what transpired when it was returned to me a few years ago.
And as I stood up to him, I felt him respect and accept my position, against all odds. And as this happened, I felt flooded with good will and love towards him. My heart was open and joyful.
When I returned to the apartment after lunch, I was tingling with an ecstatic energy. I had entered a place of freedom from fear. I had seen earlier at the doctor's, waiting, that I am only fear, fear of death, fear of rejection.
This is temporary, but a sample of what it would be like to just act without fearing the outcome, thinking of ramifications, playing the odds. Take a decision and if it is wrong, pay the consequences.
U.G.'s teaching is wonderful. How clear it is that we want all this and Heaven too. Giving up the hold on this is freeing, ever so slightly, to be in that. But there is no that, and no this either.
I went on to talk to Mike, cancel Marcia out of Maine this summer because it was up to the kids to invite people, not me. Each time there was clear and positive response because I was clear and positive. Amazing.
~ ~
Summing up New York. I have not had enough time, have been rushed and scattered. But so much has happened. U.G. has done most of the editing, with the loyal and devoted help of Luna and Stanley. I in turn have been free, more or less, to tend to my apartment, my daughter and other matters. I am, after all, leaving again for four months.
The pressure I was under with U.G. was agonizing, excruciating at times, but the outcome has been amazing. I am actually leaving, with the apartment rented and Maine out in the open and under consideration by all concerned. I have focused on my dilemma with the kids, that they walk all over me because I walk all over myself, that things have to change, and in fact, have changed.
U.G. said the other days that change being the nature of things, we would be damn fools if we didn't go along with it, freely, without resistance.
He also said, asked about his traveling that, "I am myself the traveling." There is no separation, no one who is doing the traveling.
