Imagine the prince in Sleeping Beauty, chopping his way through the hedge of thorns around the castle where Beauty slept, making a way where there was no way. I had the notion that some being or power had now begun a similar process, subtly guiding me along the clearest part of a thorny trail. Things began to happen. There were curious synchronicities.
An acquaintance signed me up for a mail order course with A.M.O.R.C., (a Rosicrucian organisation), as a joke! Little did he know it would be a spark that would ignite an explosion of excitement, the drop that created insatiable thirst.
I practised all the exercises. I visualised. I meditated. I considered my place in the Universal scheme of things. I felt alive. While I felt I could not share these experiences with others in my life, I never felt alone. The Presence was always there. Like a constant, familiar, wholly supportive and unconditional friend. I was aware of encouragement.
At the same time the folk scene was peaking. I would take my battered three quarter sized guitar along to the local folkie hangout and sit diaphanously on the small stage shyly singing wrist-slashing and he-done-me-wrong songs. It was all a bit intense!
I connected with a couple of local performing luminaries, one of whom introduced me to the writings of Krishnamurti, the other to my first broken heart. Both, to the healing power of poetry and music. I wrote my first songs.
Krishnamurti was the Eckhart Tolle of the time. He wrote of unconditioned awareness and being conscious of 'what is' here now. No mention of angels, auras or astrology. But it had not always been that way for him.
Krishnamurti's exceptionally pure aura been 'spotted' on a beach in India by the Theosophical clairvoyant C.W. Leadbeater, who then tutored him in the mystical arts and sciences. Plenty of angels, ascended masters, astral travel and crazy kundalini experiences for him!
On Balmoral Beach in Sydney there is a strange Grecian style building which was known as The Star Amphitheatre. It was purpose built as a viewing platform to experience the return of the Messiah, walking on water through Sydney Heads.
That Messiah was supposed to be the young Krishnamurti!
The young lad grew up and out of his humble Indian beginnings. He was well-travelled and educated. He was undoubtedly spiritual!
He stood before his benefactors and basically told them they were very silly and that he would dedicate his teachings to absolute psychological freedom from man-made monstrosities of belief and delusion. To self-awareness and acceptance of 'what is' as a way to peace.
I loved his teachings so much. They helped me focus. But he did not mention The Presence.
At 16 I moved in to a share house in Manly. Yes we were alternative, but we all worked. The darling old Manly Ferry would slosh me from hippiedom across to Circular Quay where I would teeter-totter in my high heels and mini-skirt up to the Insurance company where I worked.
One lunch time in 1969 I came upon a building with a strange entrance leading to a basement bookshop. Exotic scents drew me carefully down the old stairs into dimly lit, beautifully wood panelled rooms. On one side was a counter with an elderly woman smiling like a Cheshire cat..not kidding. The other part was a library. Think Harry Potter meets Buffy!
I was having all kinds of physical sensations. Tingling, pressure, buzzing, almost whispering. Time seemed to behave like a carnival mirror, warping and distorting. The Presence was SO present! I imagined I was hearing 'Yes! Yes!'....yes to what I wasn't sure.
Adyar Bookshop was (and still is) the Theosophical Society Book outlet. Along side it lay the meeting rooms of the T.S. In times gone by, C.W. Leadbeater had walked over the very spot where I stood. Perhaps even Krishnamurti.
Then I discovered that Krishnamurti was to visit Australia and speak at the Sydney Town Hall!
One of my housemates and I got up early one Sunday. I made sure my pet white rat was fed and happy before we travelled into the city. We were both so high! No drugs. No obvious reason. I was in my hippie clobber, floating along. Rod sporting his looong beard and hair to match, as dark as the horn-rimmed glasses he wore. We arrived at the town-hall.
Entering was like pushing into a marshmallow! I now know that what I was experiencing was energy. A huge 'aura' or energy field seemed to surround the building. A very disconcerting sensation. I was definitely in an altered state of consciousness by the time Krishnamurti came out on to the platform.
I nearly cried. An absolutely beautiful, fragile old man gently sat and gazed at the flowers before him. He looked as though he was made from tan alabaster. Was this energy connected to him? I don't know. It was very similar energy to The Presence, but amplified a dozen, no, a hundred times! Thick silence buzzed then lay over the huge crowd which was a sea of white haired folks, over 70 I would guess. A few hippies were dotted around like colourful katherine wheels. Some white hairs approached the platform and bowed low with prayerful hands. Krishnamurti frowned and scolded them saying not to bow down before anyone.
The place silently hummed and I barely remember anything after that.
Something shifted in my energy that day. An infinitesimal increment of awareness, but an increment no less.
The Presence seemed so much more profound and not quite so familiar anymore. Perhaps like getting to know a new and unexpected aspect of someone you thought you knew completely. Surprising and a little awkward.
And there were to be more surprises....
(continued in part four)
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