Oberon's Liebes-Geschichten

Poesie

Geschichten übers Erwachen

Treffen mit dem Geist von Yoko's Mutter

Oberon was sitting in a huge room, a shining old wooden floor and high windows allowing the morning sun to pour in over the chanting group. It was in its third day and the fifty people were discussing ancestors. Oberon found that in his own family he knew very little about his ancestors. Taid, his paternal grandfather, had some influence on him when he was small, and lived near him, in North Wales. His second wife, not Oberon's father's mother, also had some influence in that he felt the contrast between her coldness and the warmth and love of his own mother. As concerned his maternal grandmother, he knew her as a child but the contact was limited to visits to her dark rooms in Maida Vale, London. Memories of her dark room and small animals and birds stuffed in glass bottles.

As Oberon grew up, he became aware at moments such as Christenings, Christmas, and Birthdays that the wider family played little part in his life compared to the role they played in the lives of his friends. This was regretted more in terms of quantity of presents than in any profound way. So as Oberon sat in the group feeling he had little to contribute, his mind wandered to Yoko. This was the small, beautiful Japanese woman who had been Oberon's almost constant companion for ten years. She had shared a major part of his life, and it was easy for him to think about her even though some two weeks previously, they had parted and she had gone to California, their lives taking different directions.

Oberon remembered staying in her family's house in Tokyo. She was brought up as the fifth sister with one brother just older than her. Her father ran a grocery and liquor shop in the old downtown part of Tokyo. Things had been hard after the War, but the family was tremendously hardworking and honest, and Yoko had been brought up with love and care by her sisters, and a Mother whom she still idolises, but who died of cancer when Yoko was twelve years old. Yoko had not understood the meaning of death then, and had wondered when her Mother would return.

Now, sitting in the group, Oberon thought of the family Buddhist shrine with its plaques of ancestors long since gone. Each morning, the thoroughly modern Yoko performed a brief ceremony to remember her mother, arranging a small portion of the day's rice, an apple, or some seasonal fruit on the shrine. Then she lit joss sticks, struck a bell, and said a small prayer. This made a strong impression on Oberon, as he watched her perform this ritual each morning, afresh.

Thinking he might relate the story to the group, Oberon was suddenly aware of an even stronger and move recent story concerning Yoko's mother. Left over from their fashion design business, they had several rolls of fabric, beautiful fabric brought from Japan in many shades of indigo, which they had designed. They knew it would be difficult to sell, even for a low price, but tried for some two weeks. One morning Yoko said to Oberon, “I feel like giving up, we have tried everything.” Oberon decided to telephone the London College Of Fashion. Sure enough, his call reached a teacher who was very much interested. "Can I come and meet you?" she asked. "When?" replied Oberon. "How about now?" Come the reply and it was arranged in that very moment to take the samples to show her. The kindly voice told them how to find a parking space and the concealed entrance to the college.

They arrived, parked the car and were in high spirit. They found the room and as luck would have it, the whole staff was gathered having lunch. What a good moment! Quickly, almost magically, a deal was struck. The college would take all the fabric for the price Oberon had planned. All was arranged effortlessly. They would deliver the next day and the cheque would be ready at the same time. Wow! It had all gone so quickly that they could hardly catch their breath. Outside, they were in an ecstasy of happiness, not so much from the successful business deal but because they had found a good home for something dear to them and because it meant that Yoko could go now to California, their unspoken contract to dispose of joint property completed.

In that moment of joy and celebration, "amazing fantastic!" said Yoko very seriously and with much love, "Today is my mother's death ceremony day." It was the day when the whole family would meet, go to-gether to the temple and perform ceremonies to mark the anniversary of Yoko's mother's death. It was a very special day for Yoko and each year she would become quiet and introspective on that day. Should Oberon add this to his account for the group? Did Yoko's mother's spirit help them with the sale?

Before an answer could come, Oberon was aware of something new happening to him at that very moment in the group. Recently he had become aware of the possibility of contacting other planes of existence, even of living on those planes, remaining in his physical body but exploring out from it. He wondered whether after our physical bodies died, our spirits went back into the ether to wait another incarnation. This immensely comforting theory had increasingly seemed to Oberon to be true. It seemed that it would be possible to contact "spirit guides" and even one's "Higher Self." Oberon didn't have a clear idea of whether or how this would work, but at this moment, he was very open to such a possibility. Only a few years previously, his incredibly rational mind would have considered any such notion laughable.

Just at that moment, sitting in the group, Oberon felt something like a cold shower of air descend on his head. Then he was aware of being "spoken to" not through his ears, but directly into his mind. It was the spirit of Yoko's mother talking. She told him that he had looked after Yoko so beautifully for all these years, that she understood how much Oberon loved her, and that now she would be with him and her turn care for him also.

Oberon was scared, all thoughts of speaking to the group gone as he struggled to remain composed. Had this really happened? Was he dreaming? Oberon's mind quickly tried to rationalise the experience away but his feeling remained strong something profound had happened.

Some moments later, the group broke for tea. Yesterday at lunch, Oberon had connected strongly with a writer and they had talked together. She had told him of Mary, a medium who would hold a group the following weekend. Oberon was very keen to meet this woman and felt it would be good for him to spend the weekend doing her group. The writer introduced them and Oberon was shocked because this woman had come to the group late and sat down on his right side.

This all felt too much of a coincidence for Oberon. It seemed that even his rational mind could now surrender to all these happenings and believed that having someone with an open channel to the spirit plane sitting next to him had helped to give energy to his own connection. Oberon relaxed in this notion which seemed to clinch the whole story.

TREFFEN MIT GOTT

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Geschichten übers Erwachen

In the form of a Giant Moth and the Self

Oberon was staying at Phool-Chatti, a small ashram just outside Rishikesh. It was the end of the monsoon season and the Ganga flowed past in a mighty torrent down towards the plains and the pilgrimage places of Hardwar; with its famous and moving evening arti; and much further Varanasi, the city famous for its burning ghats and its holy men.

At Phool-Chatti, everything was quiet and beautiful. The gardens bloomed, butterflies abounded and the ever present sound of the Ganga, rushing past, gave the mind a constant reminder to keep quiet. These were the foothills of the Himalayas and the ashram was set at the place where the "Chinese Ganga;" so called as its source was across the Indian border, flowed into the Ganga. Hills were all around clothed in forest, reputed to still have tigers and bears roaming freely. The sun shone and Oberon had watched himself melt daily into the peace of this natural paradise, his own peace, his own paradise within.

Some twenty western spiritual seekers were staying in the ashram and one Brazilian lady had taken a liking to Oberon. Meanwhile Oberon was totally in love with a vivacious six year old Mexican girl, Gudier, the daughter of his close friend. Oberon spent lots of time playing with Gudier. Painting pictures together, walking and swimming in the river and mostly just playing those stupid games which simply say "I love you." Loving such a young girl allowed Oberon, age forty eight, to express his natural fatherly feelings, but more than this, Oberon found a deep innocent spot inside himself, was accessed in the purity of the loving. Oberon simply saw these moments of play as a tremendous gift and was immensely grateful that this little girl loved Oberon back with that particular intensity Oberon had only ever experienced with such young girls. She was also a Master for Oberon, reminding him to stay exactly in the present without any expectations for the future; also to remain very sensitive because the intensity of her feelings, made Gudier very vulnerable.

With Maria, Oberon's Brazilian lover, it was somewhat complicated. She, like many Brazilians, had tons of sunny energy and wished to express this by intimately loving Oberon.She had recently spent nine months sitting with her Indian Guru, as a group traveled about India together. She had loved him more than anyone in her life and now she wished to give this "love" to Oberon. When Oberon accepted this love, things were simply hot and passionate; long hours passing in intimate embrace with Oberon giving up his body for Maria to play with.

Unfortunately, Oberon didn't like Maria, or rather, he could not manage her neurotic personality. When she had been twelve, her father and mother had gone separate ways, dramatically, one day , leaving the young Maria with an Auntie. The period of psychic abuse Maria had suffered prior to this break up and the resulting sense of abandonment and rejection had deeply wounded Maria psyche. She was extremely intelligent, making her living as a lawyer. She had developed all kinds of subtle strategies to prevent her "lover" ever abandoning her again; so she was a grand manipulator. Also, sexual surrender was enough for Maria to exploit to get possession. Hence Oberon was torn between his need to set very clear boundaries and his enjoyment of the power of Maria's loving. This complicated situation was not new to Oberon, but had never been so dramatically played out. Oberon's emphatic rejection of Maria's psychology, whilst welcoming the sweetness of her heart and the passion of her sexual appetite, created a dramatic relating. Oberon rather liked this for short periods but it could easily become very stressful, unless Oberon insisted on time for himself.

Alongside these two love affairs, or rather as a part of the whole, Oberon was having an intense love affair with existence itself. He was deeply touched by the beauty of Phool-Chatti and felt this reflected the blissfulness Oberon felt inside himself. Nature was constantly revealing itself: For example, the butterflies, whose closed wings looked exactly like brown leaves, with the stork as the tail of the wing, which when opened revealed a vivid orange stripe. As Oberon became more sensitive, so existence could reveal another layer of itself. Oberon saw that his experience, through his five senses, depended on his internal state of emptiness rather than the external forms. Hence, the world outside was created by Oberon's mind: Nothing existed. What was taken as the world was in fact a dream, ever changing, according to the state within and the workings of the five senses.

On this particular afternoon, Oberon felt like being alone and going up to a beautiful valley he had discovered some days earlier while exploring with Maria. The early lunch had been eaten in silence, sitting on the red clay floor in the ashram's kitchen. It was a simple lunch of rice, vegetable dahl, and chapati. A large large slice of lemon grown in the ashram's garden gave the meal a particular quality. Oberon always enjoyed such moments, as it was possible in the silence to intimately connect and melt with those whose hearts were open without getting involved in tiresome talking or sticky relating. After this lunch, Oberon spent a short time with Gudier and then bade farewell to Maria who wished to spend the afternoon together with him; instead she would take Gudier swimming. The day before they had found a small temple set on an Island with a large pool all around. Water was brought tricking into the pool from a clay channel which connected to a waterfall pool much higher up the hillside. It was an idyllic place and Gudier was just getting the confidence to swim.

Oberon took his scooter, packed some apples, biscuits and drinking water and set out alone. He always felt good alone when it happened from choice and having the loving support around of good friends. Now he slowly drove along the dirt road savoring the view as he went. Below in the valley, the crystal clear blue- green river tumbled down through the rocks in a torrent. Yellow rice fields rested in the sunlight and the occasional houses sent up lazy smoke to remind Oberon, daily life continued all about. Oberon drifted into a quiet mood, even resisting stopping at the roadside chai shop in his yearning to be alone. He soon arrived at a cascading waterfall and left his scooter and set off up the hill, passing a huge overhanging banyan tree on his way. He arrived higher up from the waterfall in a small valley and sat down on a rock for a moment to get his bearings, and just feel that place anew.

Some few days before Oberon had found this place with Maria and they had spent the whole afternoon making passionate, primitive love together in the river. As Oberon sat briefly on the rock, the whole scene came back to him. Sitting astride a tree trunk, Oberon had simply allowed his energy to be centred at his sex. His penis extended and Maria had eagerly gobbled it up inside her. The fucking had gone on and on with Oberon taking breaks to plunge into the ice cold water. It was absolutely exhilarating, and the sound of the water wiped out Oberon's thoughts; it was a pure energy phenomenon. Oberon was amazed at the power of his sexual energy because he had been celibate for most of the last year. Sexual desire had fallen away. Now it seemed as if something ancient had awakened, and it was fun to allow the strong feeling to take him over.

Sitting on the rock, Oberon got in touch with the climax of the afternoon. He had spotted a muddy sandy promontory and had lain down and allowed himself to sink into the ooze. Maria had quickly followed suit and they had soon been coupled in a passionate frenzy urged on by the feeling of the wet mud on their skins, the sense of nature all about and always the sound of the water rushing against the rocks. Oberon had a violent orgasm; a ball of energy as tangible as if made of molten metal had rolled up his body and exited out of the top of his head. He was left gasping for breath with a deep contentment as if all bodily frustrations had been blown away. Oberon had then disentanged and lain down in the river completely submerged and immediately his body disappeared and melted into the water.

Now, on his return a few days later, Oberon allowed himself to relive those ecstatic moments for which he would always be grateful. This afternoon, Oberon choose to walk much further up the river until he was lost in the middle of the valley some distance away from the scene of his passionate memories. He quickly put down his bag and took of his clothes. Crossing the river he found a flat rock, cantilevered out over a deepish pond. He had hardly sat down, when he noticed a butterfly dipping over the surface of the water. It seemed to sense Oberon's presence; low and behold, it settled down on his finger as if to say; "welcome, glad you have joined us on this wonderful afternoon." Oberon took this to be an omen of his state of silence and he settled into his meditative posture and allowed his eyes to close. Looking inside, Oberon became aware that he had become red colored flames, a torrent of energy rather than a solid body. He sank even deeper into the bliss of his own self. Time disappeared and in the moments of awareness, only the sound of the river impinged on his senses. He was gone, melted into the vastness of existence. Not apart, but part of the whole, gone as a separate identity, gone as a body- mind organism; simply existing in the self.

After some longish time, Oberon opened his eyes slowly and focused softly on the trees, birds, the nature all around, the sunshine on his nude body. Slowly, he moved over the rocks, then sinking down until his bottom touched the water, he allowed his body to give up its excreta, as the urine came out it was as if the river flowed inside. Again, this sense of oneness with nature. Oberon remembered in California some years previously how very frightening it had been to remain naked in the depths of nature; now it was easy. Oberon took this as a sign of the breakdown of his ego and his heightened sense of self. Simply delicious; he relaxed back into himself and closing his eyes sank deeply into the depths of his own soul, merging with the whole wonderful existence.

The light changed, a faint coolness touched Oberon's skin, sunset was approaching, time to leave that divine place. As Oberon walked along, he got in touch with a feeling that soon turned into a voice. A question formed: "How do I spend the last third of my life?" The answer appeared instantaneously: "Just enjoy Beauty as you have just now and Play." In that very instant, Oberon looked up and right there in front of his eyes was a Giant Moth. Exquisitely beautiful, huge, the size of an outstretched hands, light green merging into the bushes, perfectly camouflaged, Oberon gasped, tears came into his eyes, he was deeply touched. A voice inside told him, "God himself, manifested." He couldn't move, glued to the spot he observed the phenomenon in front of him; no thoughts, no nothing, he was present absolutely in the now of that moment: In Truth. In his own Godliness.

It was a huge Moth, a white furry body finger sized, wings the size of an outstretched hand; a red spine at the front and eye markings on the wings. At the wing bottom, tails giving the effect of leaves curling up. At the front of the body, two antennas quivered slightly, indicating life was present. After what seemed an eternity, Oberon edged closer; it was so intense, all else had vanished. Now he remembered Gudier, the little wise girl he loved so much; he wanted her to see God too. He broke off the stem, carried it above his head, and put it into his scooter basket and triumphantly brought the trophy back to Gudier.

Realities differed: She was exited to see the huge Moth, but only for an instance. What was God for Oberon, was merely an extraordinary insect for Gudier and she was off to have her dinner. Oberon became aware that it was his own Godliness which had manifested. Out of the hours of silent emptiness, Oberon's Truth, his essential nature had manifested great delicate beauty, with no ambition, no desire, only the question, "What Now?" and the immediate answer, "The Beauty of Life Itself unfolding from Moment to Moment."

ENDE

IM VORBEIGEHEN

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Geschichten übers Erwachen

Liebes-Affäre an der Tokyo Yamanote Linie

The Yamanote line was the first commuter subway line built in Tokyo. The green trains go in a huge loop around the central section of the ever-expanding city. No beginning and no end; just the means for millions of people to pass each other by, day in and day out; each appearing to live in his own self-contained world, even though they might well spend hours each day hurtling through the congested dynamic city, together.

I felt relaxed and sunny that morning. As I stepped onto the train at Ochanomizu station, my eyes immediately met hers. Classically Japanese, she had bobbed jet-black hair, a pert little nose and dark narrow eyes that allowed the cosmos to pass through. She moved, I moved. Just for an instant, there was complete understanding between us. An instantaneous spark uniting us in joy.

I sat down exactly opposite her and looked up to confirm this love. Sure enough, her eyes were ready for mine. She lay back and accepted my hot passion. We both recoiled from the intensity of the moment and looked down, she to her fashion colour charts and me to my news magazine. What to do?

Yes, if a seat became available, I would sit next to her. But no, then I would miss the chance of furtive glances. She was visibly moved and her fragile beauty fired the emotions of my heart.

She was reluctant to go, and I to see her go, but she stepped out at Shinjuku station and disappeared from my life forever. I sat back exhausted by the passion of our loving, at once energised and saddened by the sudden loss.

Then I realized that this love was not lost but was in fact simply: Love. Love had burst forth in my heart and this love would never be lost. It simply couldn't be lost because it was my love and would always be in my heart. It didn't depend on any other person; it was mine, happening inside of me, not dependent on another.

Der Grashüpfer

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