February 1, 1996

Dear Pak Wondo,
     Mamaju hajuning bawana; mamaju hajuning djagad. [Serve the harmony of the world; serve the harmony of the universe.]
     I am writing to report in after some 16 years out here in the Western world. I am sorry that I no longer can remember my Indonesian and hope that you are able to understand English better now. Maybe if Carol Block is still around she could help you with this.
     I remember that when I left Java in July 1980, at my farewell dinner Pak Sri Sampoerna remarked that I would be "as if a stranger in a strange land" on returning to the West. Truer words have rarely been spoken and my experience both in the United States, where I finished my Ph.D. studies and produced Sumarah: A Study of the Art of Living in an incredible and virtually inexplicable rush (I finished up in about four months), and then in Brazil, have often reminded me of one of the things Pak Hardo used to say, "When God says 'go west,' you go west; When God says 'go south,' you go south." I hope it has all served some purpose but what a horror nonetheless. I can remember that when I left Java you remarked to me that you were "jealous" because in Java things are so easy and the people are so dear that it is difficult to obtain experience concerning the harder face of being. Believe me I've gotten plenty of experience out here so I guess you were right though I have often felt like I was "swinging like a hanged man in the wind". I remember you and Suhardo used to say that Sumarah could be adapted to any locale and that pamonging is very different in different places. One day a pamong visited from Jakarta. He said he was direct and kasar and described his pamonging techniques:

I just tell them, "If you don't believe, don't bother coming." I don't worry about etiquette, I just clobber them, "Brother, you're just here trying to amuse yourself. When we meditate we have no mother, father or children but only Tuhan to relate to." (Tipes 4/10/1980)

If pamonging was like that in Jakarta, imagine what it is like here in the land of Carnival and rampant hedonism. I started a group here but found it impossible to deal with the escapist tendencies of those that were coming and also found it virtually impossible to get cooperation in "grounding" the interference those who came were getting due to opening up in the practice. Brazil floats on a cloud of petty distinction (with everyone glowing happily with mutual hate and practicing pass-it-along abuse) and the virtual imposition of emotional being. The tendency is to defy Reality rather than seeking to resolve problems or disputes by opening up to God or Sedjatining Keadilan: incredibly irresponsible, but there you are. The enclosed letter will give you a better understanding of what I mean by "grounding" since this is a term that comes out of practicing Sumarah here, in that the local environment unfortunately requires it. I let the group die out.
     During this same period I was working on a revision of Sumarah: A Study of the Art of Living for a more general audience. I produced three versions that covered the issues involved in more popular language and tried to adapt them to the local environment (Sumarah's basic practice was translated into Portuguese). The last version is Serve the Harmony which remains on my shelf still unpublished in that I ran out of energy for pursuing it some eight years ago now. Ho hum. Maybe someday I'll be able to get back to it, re-revise it to update the outlook and look for a publisher. Who knows?
     Earlier on, when I was working on my dissertation, I started some traditional Indic or sutapa practices that come more out of Pak Hardjanto's bag of tricks than Sumarah but arose strictly out of Ilmu Gaib. As I wrote in June 1992 in a letter at the cataclysmic unraveling of my relationship with Gloria (the object of the enclosed letter):

    When I first came to Brazil I was on a shit fast; this is an Indic practice which continues in the sutapa tradition in Java though it is not normally part of Sumarah. I stayed on the fast, consuming small portions of each bowel movement every day for about four years (1980-1984). Nothing is better for burning out the habit of thought and leaving the mind as blank and black as empty space. If you recall I have sometimes told you that I haven't thought for years. It is partially as a result of this long fast.
     Mechanically a shit fast shortens the feedback loop between experience and the response you receive to it in the world around you. Once the response loop gets short enough, thought burns out like phosphorus on water because it is far too slow to keep up with the existential flow. In Javanese terms, a shit fast is the quickest way (except for dying) to shorten the distance between lahir (outer experience) and batin (inner experience). An anthropologist, a good friend who did her fieldwork in India (where this is quite common among holy men) and the only person I have ever confessed this behavior to, asked me about aversion to contact and sex which are well-known in these periods. I could testify that during the initial months the level of intensity so heightened that any contact whatsoever brought on a fiery burning, mostly coming in the upper chakra. Eventually the head chakra itself burns out and the problem ceases.

    I obviously don't recommend this for the fainthearted. No one can ever really take on full responsibility for the consequences and the individual must be called to it: not even the pamong pribadi really has the right to authorize this one.
     You used to say that a pamong can perform his service and then go back to "normal" afterwards, but Pak Hardo then added that when he started practicing he became a full-time pamong and was always in the openly receptive, rasa murni state. This is what has happened to me as well. This heightened sensitivity is not notably pleasant in a place like Brazil and is a bit destabiliziing at times but all in all became inescapable.
     In Pak Kino's terms, I came to Brazil basically in jinem and then popped out in junun in December 1991 due to the shock of falling in love -- can you imagine my surprise when that happened? Essentially as a result of what I report in the enclosed letter, I finally moved into what he used to call suhul and pure association with the Kabir realm of being (as opposed to the perversely Sahir perspective in this society) as of October 1995. Sometimes I have missed the tranquillity of jinem during the often tumultuous transition to suhul and to the open, direct and personal management of my own being this implies, but obviously there is no going back at this point. Anyway, things are calming and steadying now.
     That's about it, really. I hope this letter finds you well and that Paguyuban Sumarah continues to thrive. I often miss Java and am frequently consoled by my knowledge that beauty like that of the Javanese people really exists. I sometimes wonder how much change Japanese investment has induced but hopefully Java remains basically the same. My loving best wishes to everyone, especially Carol if she is still to be found.

      Yours truly,
 

      David Howe