Bombay - Bangalore

FROM MURIEL MOORE:

My husband Keith and I met John-Roger in April of 1968 at a live home seminar in Somis, Ventura County in California, at the home of Lillemore and Gene Anderson. Lillemore had been at the first J-R seminar in Santa Barbara at Muriel Engel’s home. We were a small group of about 15 to 20 people.

Pauli McGarry (now Sanderson) and Phillip Anthony accompanied J-R. Phillip did the recording on a reel-to-reel tape and would play the music from “Space Odyssey” which came out in 1968. We needed to be in our chairs by the time the first bars of the song were over. Kind of like musical chairs. It was fun. The group was small and we each had a chance to share and ask questions. We learned different techniques like the water meditation, candle meditation, seeing auras and started chanting the OM and then later the HU. I had no idea who J-R was, only knew that I didn’t want to miss a seminar.

I had a Light Study with J-R that June and he came to Camarillo to do that. He took measurements of my head first and used that as a jumping off place to start the reading. It was written on a paper that had bars to record and chart my traits. He also recorded the Light Study on a cassette. He told me about former Karmic lives that I had lived and traits that I came in with to better know myself. J-R then scheduled a follow-up Light Study in the Fall. He kept a very small appointment book in his pocket to do his scheduling.

The year before I met J-R, I had a Life Reading by Neva Dell Hunter in 1967 that I found very accurate and interesting. Neva Dell was a metaphysical teacher and practitioner who offered karmic readings, aura balancing, and who founded the Quimby Light Center in Alamogordo, New Mexico.

In 1968, Neva Dell came back to Santa Barbara and I was given the opportunity to have a follow-up to my Life Study with a Light Study with her. I debated whether to do this because I was studying with J-R. I decided to do it and was given an address in Santa Barbara for that purpose. When I knocked on the door, who should answer it? J-R did. Boy, was I surprised! It turned out to be Muriel Engel’s home.

When I went in to have my Study things would be going great and then I would think, “I wonder if this is alright with J-R”. Neva Dell would hesitate in the reading and say something like, “God bless you” and then would continue as I allowed it in my consciousness.

After the reading, I was invited to sit with J-R, Phillip, Muriel Engel, and I think Pauli was there too, as well as Jack Reed. I was told later that J-R had known Neva Dell and had done some work with her on aura balancing.

It wasn’t long after our 1968 Light Studies that our sons, Marcus 7 and Charles 4, had Light Studies too at J-R’s home in Baldwin Park. Charlie was fascinated with J-R’s bed and was allowed to go up and down, forward and backward on it. Exciting stuff at age 4. Maybe that helped prepare him for the future roller coaster ride of working at NOW Productions with Phil Danza and others!

Eventually, J-R gave seminars in Sandy and Kurt Lander’s home in the Valley, then Wanda Mansbach’s home and then David Georgio’s home with many of the seminars in his back yard. We went to the Light Castle as well.

In October 1972 Keith and I had the good fortune to be in India with J-R, Phillip Anthony, Wesley, Michael Sun, Bob Tackney, Beverly Terrell, Muriel Engel, Mark Holmes, Tom Johnson, and Jeri and Bob Silver. Previously we had been invited by our friends, Herb and Carol Daly, to go with them while they traveled India and then were going to visit the Ashram in Puttaparthi to meet Sathya Sai Baba. I had this strong desire to go on this trip when I heard that J-R would be there. Keith said he wouldn’t be going, but when he heard that I decided to go he decided to go to protect me. Thank God!

We were encouraged to go by our friends Jeri and Bob Silver who were in our home for a taped seminar. We decided to go on the part of the trip when the Daly’s would be at Sathya Sai Baba’s Ashram in Bangalore and J-R would be there as well. We decided to go to India on Thursday morning. I called J-R and asked if that would be alright. He approved and then we went full-out.

Speaking with Mark Holmes 42 years later, I learned that Mark had a similar experience.  We decided to act “as if” it would work and be content with the results. We didn’t have passports so I took papers to Los Angeles on Thursday and the person in line ahead of me wanted to get his passport for a trip he was taking 2 weeks away. He was turned down. I thought well, guess this trip is not to be. When my turn came I told her we were leaving Monday night and she said o.k., I could pick the passports the next day. Wow! I rushed home, found out what shots we needed, yellow fever and small pox, found a doctor who could give them to us, had our shots, found out the name of the Indian travel agent, called him and drove to Los Angeles Friday to pick up our passports, drove to the Travel Agent and paid for and picked up our tickets.

Saturday, I asked our babysitter if she could take care our boys while we were gone and she agreed. She was a mature woman and we knew they would be safe with her and our family. I worked as a Dental Hygienist two days a week and found a substitute for the three weeks we would be gone. Keith found a Chiropractor to take over his practice and I went shopping to buy a mumu to wear in India.

Then my mother was recovering from a minor operation and was in the hospital in Santa Barbara. I called her doctor Saturday night and he was reassuring that it was OK to go. I called my Aunt and asked her if she would be there when my mother went home and she agreed. With my mom’s OK, between my dad and my aunt, mom was taken care of. What a great family!

On the way to the LA airport we stopped at the store and bought 3 big jugs of water. This was before the age of carrying water bottles. Monday night we boarded a non-stop plane from Los Angeles to Paris and J-R and staff met us at the airport in Paris. We traveled the Metro with our luggage, trunk and water bottles to a small, intimate hotel called Hotel St. Marie not too far from the Louvre.  We had a lovely dinner at a small restaurant in the upper room. We left the next morning on Air France stopping at Tel Aviv, Israel; Tehran, Iran and then on to Bombay, India.

My most lasting and unique experience on our trip to India was having the feeling of being completely and totally encapsulated in layers and layers of Light. It was a feeling of Absolute and Complete Protection. I have to laugh because I had a headache on the day of our departure which quit instantly when we boarded the plane. Perfect health and well-being stayed with me until we again disembarked in Los Angeles three weeks later when I again picked up my headache. It seems that expansion of my consciousness had been accelerated due to our India trip.

First thoughts upon driving around in Bombay–“National Geographic–its come alive! The ox carts are moving, the people are talking, and I can smell the warm unmistakable earthy aroma that is not unpleasant, but must be only peculiar to India. It’s three dimensional. It’s all around me!”

The excitement and dread of my first night in India. Cement floors, bare bulbs, tin washtub for bathing, no screens on open windows, overhead revolving fan, canopy mosquito netting over the bed and no sheets. Covering myself with my own coat, like a security blanket because it was my own and familiar.

The heavenly taste of hot strong Indian tea mixed half and half with hot, frothy milk in a pitcher, with plenty of raw sugar. Small tree-ripened bananas, papayas, orange juice, chapati and chutney.

Much to my surprise, I felt a very real meeting ground, on a silent level, with those Indians that we came in contact with. As a whole, my impressions were those of a calmness and gentleness displayed by the people.  One met the exceptions as we do in our country, but I truly felt a peace which I didn’t interpret as apathy but as acceptance and a general feeling of good will. This may in part be colored by my feelings of being enfolded in Light, but whatever, those are my lasting impressions.

The little boy, Gida, on the beach of the Indian Ocean with a sparkle in his eyes. He would rub his tummy and say, “No mamma, no papa”, and beg for money. Only to be caught up short in a later conversation when J-R asked where his mother was and he replied, “At home”. I don’t think he saw it as lying, only as part of his job!

The sadness as one is greeted in Bangalore by a young boy of about twelve who is totally blind. The uncanny gentleness of his touch as he passes by, finding his way. The word spread from the taxi drivers that this little boy really needed the help. The tears that spring to my eyes when I see the sweet joy on his face as I secretly press some coins in his hand. Secretly, because we might be overwhelmed by other young beggars who are better able to fend for themselves. A shadow in my heart as I see him walk away into the dark by himself, up a lonely road, without even a stick to guide him. A “God bless you” and “I’m sending the Light to you for your Highest Good, wherever you are, whatever you are doing.”

We slept on the floor of a porch. Awakening in the Ashram was a beautiful experience. Hearing the runners in one’s sleep, chanting in counterpoint to other runners in the commune. Drifting back to sleep until sun up when one went noiselessly to be blessed by Baba as the sun rose and he stood silently on the balcony. A multitude of people, but one could have heard a pin drop. A beautiful way to begin the day.

Previous to that, I went to a store that specialized in sari fabric. It was so colorful. I would point to one and the man flung it out in a sweeping gesture until there were fabrics on fabrics. A beautiful display, it was a rainbow of exotic hues. I chose one and then they measured me for the little top that is worn with it. Coming back in two hours to pick it up; sewn by a little Indian man sitting cross legged on the floor with his sewing machine. Wearing a sari for the first time, giving a questioning look to an Indian woman at her door at the Ashram.  Gesturing, how the heck do I put this thing on? A gracious smile and kindly hands winding, patting, and pulling in mysterious ways and finally a finished product. Feeling somewhat self-conscious when appearing before the others and hearing a gracious comment from the ever perceptive John-Roger, saying something like, “You really look very natural in that sari.” Feeling very grateful for his perceptiveness.

Watching J-R, knowing his spirituality, but being constantly astounded on how beautifully he handles and moves around in the physical. Boy, can he ever handle his 10% !!!!

The encounter between J-R and Baba—feeling that much went on that I didn’t know about—perhaps may never know about—but was curious to know about!

Baba was small, giving the appearance of being larger, graceful, gentle and impish. The most surprising thing to me was his sense of humor, and that I could respond to. The astounding moment when Baba manifested rings, necklaces, pendants, statues, candy and sacred ash. Seeing it, mostly believing it, and being equally astounded that my own innermost response is one of “That’s really interesting, but it doesn’t really matter, I like him anyway as a person.” Which is pretty nonchalant at best!

Sitting on the steps of our quarters and having, what were to me, informal seminars by J-R. No words to express that one.

Plenty of words to express the plumbing system at the Ashram. A raised platform, two pieces of wood shaped like feet on which to squat over a hole in the floor, no flush system except a pitcher of water. A real experience. As I said before, “The earthy fragrance of India.” Treating our Basics to the luxurious Hotel Ashoka after the Ashram.

The naturalness of coming out of the Hotel Ashoka at any time of day and knowing that our own taxi driver would be there without ever verbally making any sort of agreement. Never asking the price of a fare, but always being treated fairly. The luxury of having him stay with us while we were shopping, following us around, taking care of our packages in the taxi. The complete trust, the satisfaction in knowing it was deserved. The little thing inside that tickled with delight finding out he was a Muslim and fasting between sunup and sunset!

I saw Princess Hermilla at the Ashoka hotel. I had met her previously at a tea that was given for her by a friend in Ventura. She was wearing a sari and I was wearing a pants suit. When I saw her at the Ashoka Hotel in India, she was wearing the pants suit and I was wearing a sari! Buying an oil painting of turbaned Indian man eating fruit.

Being awakened by J-R ever so gently and softly as I lay sleeping on a bench in a Bombay airport. That is probably not as good as what it might be to have the memory of his coming to take you off to the Soul Realm, but it must come close. Leaving Bombay on a humorous note — when we went through customs the men went to one side and the women went through a curtain behind which there were two Indian women in their saris sitting in the lotus position on a raised platform. We had to lift our skirts and the women would then giggle.

Commenting on the plane to J-R that it would really be neat if we had Bhajans to sing in MSIA and J-R saying that Michael had started to work on that. My thinking, what a great idea that was!

The sadness of parting with J-R and the boys at the Paris airport as they left for New York and we left for London. The preoccupied look in J-R’s eye as we said “goodbye” and he said something like, “Until later.” It helped to cut the cord we placed by the joy of being close in the physical.

A heavenly trip, never to be forgotten. As I read once, “A memory that lingers forever after is a wonderful blessing.”

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Note: This is probably from a different trip than the photo above...