Osho Meditations in the UK - Archive

Letter from ‘Australian’ Garimo in Byron Bay to Veena

"In haste... Simply beautiful event at the hall at Mevlana this morning: silent meditation for about an hour or so before Sourabh read out KP’s eulogy (written by him of course). As she said: "This takes seven minutes to read if you’re not crying!"

Everyone I could possibly think of who was in Australia who knew KP was there of course. Hansa flew in from New Zealand and came directly there. At least 6-8 came up from Sydney... Geetanjali among them, whom I hadn’t seen for years. Afterwards, several people – Leela, Pratima, Sharda, etc – said something about their personal experience of him – then there was a little eating and gossiping.

Sourabh will send out a copy of the eulogy (a ripper!) tomorrow, and I’ll forward it immediately, if you haven’t already got it(*). She and Divy are holding up well, but look like they could both use a fortnight’s sleep.

This morning I picked heaps of flowers and fresh herbs from the garden – esp beautiful fresh gardenias and cornflowers – and laid them around the casket, some with you specifically in mind to give him, Veena. Also lots of rosemary (for remembrance), oregano, sage and thyme (he loved mediterranean food!) The flowers around his casket (which was painted a bright yellow) were spectacular – lilies, tulips – everything you could think of. Apparently he’d asked for yellow flowers, so there were heaps.

Then it was on to the crematorium in Lismore, for about 20 of us – and this evening we are going on to Bhajan’s for ‘Pinot and pooh poohs’ (whatever the hell that is!) for friends who KP has nominated.

The series of events was superbly coordinated, stylishly put together, and beautifully produced – of course. I think I detect Asango and Bhajan’s touch behind the scenes, plus KP organising the lot (as far as he could) from before he left.

More later, much love Garimo"

Eulogy

"Thank you all for coming today to say good-bye.

Several years ago, my friend Yuthika died of cancer. When I heard she was ill, and that the cancer was inoperable, I telephoned her. At one point I asked if she were afraid. "There’s fear around managing the pain," she replied. "But the strangest thing is this underlying sense of excitement that I’m about to embark on the last great adventure." As I write this, in mid-August, I understand exactly what she meant.

Pain hasn’t been an issue for me. I haven’t had any to date, and thanks to the palliative care people, there’s enough morphine stashed in the kitchen pantry to give the villagers in Wentworth Falls, after I’m gone, a day of euphoria none of them will ever forget.

I was in the hospital after a heart attack that the cancer was discovered – mostly in the liver – thanks, in part I imagine, to the ameobas who regularly lodged themselves there during the years in India. I was also told it was incurable. And so I said OK, it’s obviously time to go, so let’s do it with grace, gratitude and acceptance; in other words, in surrender. I said no to chemotherapy and Sourabh brought me home.

It takes time – and usually illness – for spirit to separate from the flesh, and I have been tremendously well looked after during this process. My close friend Asango fundamentally put her life on hold to care for me. Sourabh was also fully devoted, as were Divy, Pratima, Sambodhi and other friends who filled any gaps so I wouldn’t be alone as more and more weakness set in – Sharda, Deeva, Gitanjali. And in particular my sister-in-law Jaldhara, a doctor in Germany, who was consistently available with explanations and counsel. Thank you all from the depths of my heart.

And the emails! There have been hundreds and hundreds from friends around the world. It surprised me how just being who I am has touched so many people. Something I did, something I said has stayed with them all these years – and they shared this with me in beautiful, eloquent ways.

Recently, Jayena, a friend from Zurich, wrote to me asking, now that I’m about to vacate this body, this biodegradable vehicle with its hidden use-by date, if I have any advice about preparing for this moment that we’re all going to face? Just four things.

First, deal with the Christian myth of separation.

I cannot conceive of anything more childish than the projection of a fantasy father in a fantasy heaven who created this world. The fact that billions buy this nonsense paints a frightening picture of the average level of intelligence and awareness of mankind. It’s the ugliest kind of political control masquerading as religion.

Secondly, if you can realize experientially that separation is just an illusion, then surrender becomes an act of intelligence.

It’s unintelligent for the part to fight with the whole. Imagine one spoke of a wheel wanting to go in one direction when the wheel is heading in another. The part cannot dictate to the whole, so why even bother trying? No one gets hurt but you.

This is the understanding contained in what Osho said to me in October of 1974: "If you let it, Krishna Prem, existence will take care of you in the same way it takes care of the birds and the trees and the flowers." Had he never said anything else to me in all the years that followed, this would have been sufficient teaching for a lifetime. It’s become the mantra by which I live.

Surrender is the master key to living a life in tune with your inner world and the world around you. It’s also the secret to dying, to releasing your consciouness, to letting your drop dissolve into the ocean of which it has always been a part.

Third, clean up your messes. Clean up your karma.

There’s an expression here in Australia, land of the boomerang: What goes around, comes around. And in that saying lies the essence of karma. The energy that drives existence travels in circles, and a circle begun is a circle begging for completion. Karma is a consequence of incomplete action. Paying the piper may be instantaneous; it may take lives – but you can be sure that whatever you put out will come back to revisit or to haunt you. It’s also very prudent to learn not to create new karma as you go along.

And watch out for blame. Blame is one of the biggest traps. It is simply a childish avoidance of responsibility for one’s own actions.

Finally, live totally. I remember at age 14 lying in bed planning what I would do with my life once I got away from the confines of Campbellton, New Brunswick, and promising myself, "The day I die, I don’t want to be able to say, ’Why didn’t I ever...’" That became a guiding principle for my life.

Now, as I prepare to vacate this body in which I’ve resided as a tenant for so many years, there is nothing I didn’t do that I wanted to do, nowhere I didn’t go that I wanted to go, nothing I didn’t experience that I wanted to experience. I’ve had a full, rich and interesting life, filled with love and laughter and great adventure. I’ve taken risks – and sometimes, inadvertently, stepped on some toes – but I go with no regrets. Life is complete.

Those are my four things. I pass them on with love.

Again, all of you beloveds, thank you for coming to say goodbye.":

More about KP:
Tribute from Veena on OSHOinUK (omweb.com/osho)
www.otoons.com

letter by Garimo – 15th September 2007