Persephone Arbour

I have included this article, written in September 1994 and edited recently as an example of my writing, also to introduce myself and give you a flavour of my own spiritual path.

“Ultimately, your greatest teacher is to live with an open heart.” – Emmanuel

Yes, it is that simple. I have explored more than my fair share of teachers, guides and gurus. They have come in many guises. Parents, grandmother, housemistress, priests, teachers, books, movies, actors, musicians, my children and my lovers – all of them contributed hugely, and still do.

As a young woman, although raised in the Church of England, I had no thought of spirituality, let alone some sort of path! In fact, I saw myself as an atheist – part of my rebellious nature I guess.

As I grew older the guides and teachers began to emerge: Gia Fu Feng, Michael Barnett, Paul Lowe, Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, Jay Stattman, Bill Schutz, RamDass, Deepak Chopra, Richard Moss, Wayne Dyer, Krishnamurti, Fritz Perls, Gangaji, Punjaji, Ramana Maharshi, the Dalai Lama, Jesus and Buddha, – and so on. Some I physically met, some through their writings or videos. The method of connection is irrelevant. What is relevant, the thread that runs through each contact is that my heart was opened, touched, never to be quite the same again.

A musician (oboist) first and foremost, in retrospect I can say that my first spiritual experience came when playing in the National Youth Orchestra. This was the first time in my young life that I had rehearsed, sitting in the middle of a very large and professional standard symphony orchestra.

I shall never forget the overwhelming, ecstatic feeling of being one with something much larger, more glorious than my small insignificant self. It was painful as well, causing me to burst into tears, crying with a mixture of bliss and longing that I had no hope of understanding. Today, I can sense the inability of that sixteen-year-old to grasp that she, as seemingly part of that experience, was in fact the whole of it. Whatever seems to be without is and has to be, within – no barriers, no separations.

In 1949 there could have been no understanding of that, all I knew was there was something to feel, open to, and become part of – and I became addicted to it. It became my guide, albeit unconsciously. I searched through career, through movies and books, sex, children and possessions – often quite ruthlessly. I travelled blindly in the direction of anyone, any method, toward which my longing propelled me.

In the late 60s and early 70s this pursuit led me into the new psychologies (sometimes called the growth movement) where finally, a modicum of understanding and consciousness began to arise. This was when I began to acknowledge to myself that I was on some sort of search.

“When the student is ready, the teacher appears.”

I don’t know who is supposed to have said that, but I do know it is true. At that time my teachers appeared fast and furiously:

Gia Fu Feng, T’ai Chi Master, an earthy, small pixie of a man. It was his translation of the Tao Te Ching, beautifully illustrated with photographs, that was my first intimation of that which is beyond. Meeting and working with him many times, learning to love and respect his humility, his innocence and his wisdom, gave me courage and a feeling of acceptance. My heart was touched.

Paul Lowe, who co-created the first growth centre in Europe, Quaesitor. There I participated in my first “group.” He was the pathfinder for many of us on the journey to India. Eventually, in Poona, I worked with him and subsequently in different parts of the world. This giant of a man took me, this wilful, self-blind, confused, impossible woman and put her through the wringer of her own growth. He helped me find true independence and my heart was touched.

Michael Barnett, then founder/director of Community Growth Centre in London, who shared his own growth with us in those early days of new ideas and new therapies. Michael plunged me into my career as a group leader. He also pushed me (kicking and screaming) into my years as a disciple of Rajneesh. Michael seemed to walk with me, sharing my journey, frustrations and fears. He was a pioneer – who, striding along at mercurial rate, helped me find the courage to jump beyond my boundaries. Again, my heart was touched.

Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh. Will I ever know the truth of this man, this beautiful, magnificent rebel? As far from my imaginations of what a guru “should” be as is possible to get. I do know the truth of my experience of eleven years as his disciple. Eleven years that I would not have missed for the entire world.

It is still difficult to put into words what the years spent with him has meant. For me, the ancient system of master-disciple relationship worked. It worked in simple ways, learning that surrender need not be a blind thing. It helped develop my fledgling ability to let go of “being right,” of “knowing.” It was not a blind acceptance of everything I saw around me. Also there arose a willingness to suspend disbelief as well as belief for a while – to create a space where true understanding and acceptance can rise.

In that community I received an experience of unconditional love, love that permeated every action and everyone. I learned that what I do in the world does not matter. How any task is performed, and who is performing it, does.

To do whatever I had to, from cleaning the kitchen to greeting guests at the Rajneesh University in Oregon as beautifully and as perfectly as I could – was a gift. Paradoxically, everything there prepared me for the collapse of that dream in 1985. There were many lessons, too many to recount here, that have stayed with me. When my time in the commune was finished, it was finished, no regrets – none.

Without question Bhagwan (or Osho as he re-named himself) will be remembered as one of the most charismatic, intelligent and controversial spiritual leaders of his generation. Today, over twenty years later I realise that his teachings are indelibly etched within me. He was a master of dialogue – his words were seductive, wise and beckoning. In other words he held out a carrot – the carrot of possibility. Without my grasping that carrot I doubt that I would have been able to write the last few paragraphs of this article. My search for the indefinable would have ended when that part of my life ended. Instead, because my heart had been so deeply touched I kept moving . . . . more of that at a later date!

Of all my teachers, guides and gurus, these four stand out as milestones, shining milestones. Whatever criticisms, judgments I may have had, or still possess, there is enormous gratitude for having met them. They touched my heart with their skills, their wisdom and their love, as do all who continue to stream through my life – wherever I look, whenever I’m open.

One of these is Gangaji – as a woman she was a rarity in those days. I met her when visiting in Santa Fe – still in contraction about teachers in general at that time! However, here was a woman – so I finally gave in and went to hear her. Through her gentleness and her humour I got the first glimpse of the unfathomable. And, following on from that first opening, the radical, stark and simple words of Tony Parsons seem to be the closest I can get these days to understanding the un-understandable! Both of these advaita teachers also touch my heart, in their differing ways – deeply,

In my own ‘search’, which these days seems to have somewhat petered out – there have been times when it has taken much patience and much love from another to help me uncover the unknown, unwelcome sides of myself – the shadow, even the beauty. A gesture, a look from someone else has often opened the door.

Also the discovery has been made that there is a wonderful, terrible freedom in not knowing. To be able to easily say “I don’t know” or “I was wrong” brings its own reward – and touches the heart.

Much of my time is spent alone these days. This brings a contentment missing when younger. There is no specific teacher, yet still openness to many that pass my way. I feel rich beyond measure for all my guides and gurus, for the shining mirrors held up for reflection. They have given me what I was unable to give myself for many years – unconditional love. My heart is constantly touched.

I have also learned that any guide or guru can only be a signpost on the road, a help to read the map. Ultimately the inner journey going nowhere is travelled alone. Eventually even the map wears out and must be thrown away, the signposts left behind, the road becoming a track and eventually disappearing into wherever you are in that moment.

I used to think that meant literally, physically alone. However, as a human, with human desires and joys I have been blessed with the dearest of friends, family and colleagues who are companions on the way, so to speak. For me aloneness has nothing to do with closeness, or not, to other people – it is deep within, unaffected by those nearest and dearest.

Occasionally I have been asked, “How do you find a teacher?”

Well, I probably learned as much from any so-called negative experiences as I did from the so-called positive. I do not have any definitive answers. I can only write honestly about my own life and hope that at the very least, for some of you, there will be a recognition, identification with your own that will touch your heart.

There is no false path, no wrong way – as there is no true path or true way. In fact I am coming to the unavoidable conclusion that there is no ‘way’ at all!

However, when your heart is touched you will know and the next bend in the road will unfold itself, no need to look anymore.