The Antidote stories

Contact with The Life Force

Miriam Althea Snow (UK)

At last the day of my opening came. It was March 1964 and I was joining the Cheltenham, England, Subud group. I stood within a circle of about 12 women listening with closed eyes to the words being spoken by one of the helpers. 'We are helpers in the spiritual brotherhood of Subud, and we bear witness to your sincere wish to worship Almighty God.

At first nothing happened quite as I expected. From all quarters of the room I heard odd noises and calls, thumps and sighs, and none of it seemed in the last bit holy; yet before long I found myself kneeling down on the carpet. Near me a helper whose voice I recognised was groaning and wailing in distress, and I was aware feeling dismay, that it was because of my sins and mistakes. Close behind me I heard a shocked little voice like the White Rabbit's saying, 'Oh dear! Oh dear!' and 'No, no, oh no!' At this, something in me roused itself and told me, as it were, 'But this is not the way - to shrink back. Be open, and responsive! Say yes, not no, to God.'

I had, of course, no intention of saying any such thing, I just tried to be 'open and responsive'. Then, suddenly, I heard my voice calling out loudly, again and again, 'Yes. Say yes to God! Say yes to God!' while a great wave of warm and benevolent power like gently tingling electricity poured strongly into me and my arms were opened wide to receive it, flinging themselves back and forth of their own accord. The lovely singing of the same helper now voiced my joy and happiness and I had no idea how long it was before the call to 'Finish' came, for I was cradled in inward bliss. Afterwards someone remarked, 'You were opened almost right away,' and I vaguely wondered how she knew.

I reached home in the same exalted and happy state. My husband and his mother were both out, and I was glad to be able to sit alone for a while, without thought or desire, still bathed in this completely new feeling of absolute contentment and peace. I remember touching the cat and dog with an unfamiliar tenderness, and I hoped the feeling might last. But, by the end of two hours, the state of blessedness was ebbing away. I was back to normal. I could not analyse my experience; all I knew was that something of eternal significance had happened to me, though what it was and where It would lead I could not tell. I was 'in Subud', and that was enough.

To my surprise nothing much did happen to me at the next latihan a few days later, except that I was well content to rest in this new atmosphere and the half hour went by with surprising swiftness. It was the same in latihans for the next three months. Sometimes I found myself humming while all the singing and noises of the latihan went on around me. I would have phrases from the psalms running through my head, or find myself in a Muslim posture of worship on the carpet, or sometimes lying prone, comfortable and relaxed, not wanting to move a muscle. I made no involuntary movements, felt no vibrations (whatever they were); I was just happy and becoming more used to the strange noises of some of the people doing the latihan-though I appreciated most of the times when they all stopped and we were suddenly wrapped in a deep quiet together.

Early in June, my husband and I went on two weeks' holiday to Cornwall. We took our border collie with us, enjoying the lovely coves and cliff walks between Lamorna and Land's End. For the first time I tried doing the latihan on my own. Now I had entire quiet; but still nothing much happened. It was like pressing into a dark emptiness. But at the end of each half-hour, which seemed to time itself, I would look at my face in the bedroom mirror and see reflected there that something interior had indeed happened. My eyes told me so. And for a moment or two I would feel my feet tingling with a dim echo of the Power I had once felt, at my 'opening' .

My first participation in a Subud gathering was at a conference centre at Swanwick in Derby, in the summer of 1964. It was only a small, informal gathering of 50-odd Subud members, lasting five days. I knew only a few people there, but there was much friendliness and it was a delight to me to look at the faces of so many new Subud sisters and brothers and to see a light and glow, a radiancy, in some faces and eyes which were verification to me of the inexpressible and the desired.

At the first women's latihan in the chapel, I found myself on my knees with all the strange new sounds of others singing and shouting and chanting swelling around about me, and suddenly to my surprise tears started streaming down my cheeks. With this came a feeling of great release and blessing. It seemed that I knelt before Someone who knew all about me, and the thought came, 'Was it like this with Mary of Magdala when she found herself in front of the man from Nazareth, overwhelmed by a love she had never come upon before?' For the rest of the time in the latihan I found myself assuming a most complicated attitude, almost standing on my head, yet with no strain and an almost triumphant feeling of something very right and satisfying having been achieved.

On the third afternoon I decided not to join one of the outings but to listen, for the first time, to a tape in the library, of one of Bapak's talks. Up until then I had wondered what good it would do to sit and hear a lot of unintelligible Indonesian. with only brief translations into English in between. Why not just the translations? But I had a surprise coming. The tape had already started, as I opened the door and slipped into the quiet room where a dozen or so people sat relaxed; and then I heard the rich, wise voice of Bapak speaking for the first time.

Hearing that tape marked something new, for me. Until then I had tended to feel that rather too much respect and homage was paid to Bapak and to his explanations on spiritual matters. Now I understood inwardly, secretly, and rejoiced.

In spite of this, some of the time at this, my first experience of a Subud gathering, I found myself feeling somehow unsettled, almost lonely and hungry for something, doubtful and out on the fringe of things. Nothing very much seemed to happen to me at the latihan after that first one in the chapel, and I came out wondering how all this noise and commotion could possibly be called 'worship'.

I suppose I was overtired after a strenuous hike in the swirling mist of the Derbyshire Dales. I know I came away from the chapel unhappy and full of doubt. I hid away in a little grotto, pressed my head against the cold rock, gazed on the quiet green fields, and gradually felt better. But in my room I prayed from my heart, 'If Subud is right and good and holy, please show me for sure. Give me a sign. And if it is not, I will leave it, just like that. I promise.' Then I forgot about it and was cheerful again.

After the evening latihan the next day, when we were again all sitting quietly and at peace on the chairs lining the chapel walls, one of the helpers suddenly said, 'Would you all like to try some testing, before we go?' and there was a general murmur of agreement. I wondered whether I was supposed to take part in this mystery, being so new, but anyway I stood up with the rest of them. When the helper asked us 'How is it when the answer to a question is Yes?', I wasn't even quite sure what was meant, but my arms seemed to, because they rose a little, in a gesture of acknowledgement with a feeling of lightness. For 'No', I just stood rigid with clenched fists. Having taken us through various paces, she asked whether we had any questions or problems that we wanted tested. Suddenly I found that I had something of utmost urgency to ask. And, rather stumblingly, I did: 'This Power in Subud - is it the Christ Power? Is it the Light Power?'

Very kindly, the helper said, 'Come into the middle, and ask for yourself.' So there I stood, and asked my big question, almost ashamed at my daring, but passive and open to whatever might be. Instantly I was seized by the same great benevolent energy that had manifested at my opening, only this time it made my arms flail up and down at terrific speed while my lungs pumped air in and out in uncontrollable gasps so fast that I felt like some little fish pulled out of the water and dangling helplessly, drowning in a new atmosphere. I remember beginning to think wildly, 'Why doesn't she do something to stop it?' And then, just as suddenly, I was released and set down, rather dazed and tottery but with all my doubts resolved and joy and relief seeping in to fill me full. I had my answer, and it sufficed .

For the next three months the regular twice-weekly half-hour latihans continued their uneventful course.

October 7^th, 1964, is a date which will always stand out in my Subud memories. One of the women helpers at latihan that evening was back from Wolfsburg where she had attended talks given by Bapak on his world tour. Right away I felt a difference among us, a new flow of life and energy at work. It helped to make me relaxed and responsive; and in a half- kneeling attitude I found myself swaying rhythmically from side to side, more and more strongly. And suddenly, to my utter astonishment, a flood of strange utterances in some foreign tongue came from my throat, and someone filled with arrogance and mighty power leaped to his feet and swaggered about the room in the gathering dusk, declaring his supremacy and stupendous strength and his joy in the material world - a goliath mockingly challenging the helper who stood quietly like the boy David with his little sling and five smooth stones.

The sensation of exuberant life and unlimited power was intoxicating and glorious; I was no longer myself - a small-statured English woman of 47 years - but a timeless man, dark-skinned, nearly naked, about seven feet tall and of tremendous strength and physical vitality. It was like the coming back to life of 'myself' of hundreds of years ago. And I enjoyed it terrifically, quite oblivious to the 20^th century or anything else. I recall holding out my arms and calling someone 'Bwana...m'Bwana...' with joy, delight and reverence.

And then it was over; I was five-feet-and-half-an-inch tall again, and shivering from reaction, saying half-laughingly, half-accusingly to the woman helper who had returned from the Continent, 'What did you bring back with you from seeing Bapak?'

Well, it never happened quite like that again, but from that time on I had my own latihan language (which I couldn't understand with my mind, though I sometimes sensed a meaning.) And something different occurred each time thereafter when the latihan took over. At last the barrier in me had been pierced, I was truly opened, and I marvelled at the incredible difference between movement and speech from my own will and brain, and movement and speech which by-passed that and arose from the soul alone. Who would have guessed it would be like this?

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