Issue #16

<<Previous Issue | Next Issue>>

Issue 16 – August 1970 to October 1970

Introduction

This issue is the normal length, but covers only three months, which means it is full of detail. In it we see enthusiasts of Krishnaji’s work wanting to start Krishnamurti Foundations in several different countries, and a clarification of Krishnaji’s role in the possible new foundations.

We also see more of Brockwood’s early teething troubles, many of which reflected more that period of history (the late 60’s and early 70’s) than anything about the individuals involved.

Several attempts at a peaceful resolution with Rajagopal and KWINC are made, but come to nothing.

Throughout this time, Krishnaji is dictating a book on education which, interestingly, has still not been published.

---

The Memoirs of Mary Zimbalist: Issue #16

Mary: We pick up this account on August twenty, 1970, and the day starts in Gstaad. ‘It was a cool grey day, and Krishnaji and I said goodbye to Fosca and Antonia’—that was the extra maid—‘and drove in the Mercedes toward Geneva at 11:30 a.m. We had a terrible time finding a gas station open to fill the tank. But we did and we had a picnic along the autoroute before we got to Geneva. We arrived at the Geneva airport where Mr. Moser met us.’ He’s the man who sold us all those cars.

Scott: Mm, hm.

M: ‘We signed the order for the new Mercedes 280 SE Coupe 3.5 for next April, and he drove off in the dear present one.’ As usual, I got very sentimental [S laughs] about giving a car away.

S: I quite understand.

M: It’s going to be maltreated and awful things are going to happen to it. It’s going to the knackers, [S laughing] as they say here about horses. ‘It had hummmmed at 105 miles per hour on the auto route.’ [Chuckles.] ‘The nicest car I ever drove,’ I say. ‘Krishnaji and I took the 3:15 p.m. British Air flight to London. Dorothy met us, but on exiting the terminal, found that her car had been impounded [chuckles] for illegal parking! [S laughs.] So there was a delay while she got it back. We then drove to Brockwood. Krishnaji was very silent and remote. He has been “far off,” he says, since the train ride on Tuesday. He said that Rajagopal and Rosalind must have asked him for things when he was in such states, and he would say, “anything you say,” the way he used to say to Leadbeater. His face was an austere mask in the car, but he returned enough to greet people on arrival at Brockwood, and wanted to have supper downstairs with everyone. Dorothy looked tense. Brockwood needs pulling together, but it is good to be back. Slept very well.’

On the twenty-first, ‘Unpacking. I put all of Krishnaji’s drawers and cupboards in order. Rang Mary Links at Blackdown. Also Doctor McGowan to give him Krishnaji’s health report. Paul Anstee says the new leather chair looks very nice in the drawing room.’ [Chuckles.] You don’t want all this, do you?

S: Yes, yes, absolutely.

M: Okay. ‘At 4 p.m., Krishnaji held a meeting with the Simmonses, Doris, Donald, and me on Brockwood and all problems and general disorder. A female teacher, who was left in charge of Brockwood with an American couple called Janetson, is having…’ oh, well, I can’t go into this.

S: Yes, you can.

M: Censored!

S: Why can’t you put this in?

M: Because it’s nobody’s business.

S: But this is the kind of thing that Brockwood has gone through, don’t you see?

M: Well, someone was having an affair with someone else at Brockwood, and that was the problem. [Laughs.] ‘Krishnaji really blazed at all of us. He said, “When you have tried reasoning, talking with them, and it does no good and you don’t want to use threats, what do you do?” He hammered so hard on Dorothy, the others kept silent, but I was afraid she would come apart, so I drew some of the fire, and what a fire it was! “You can’t walk away from me. You have to educate them.” In the end it was a matter of saying that we have tried dissuasion, and they have turned that into a game of contention.’

S: Mm, hm.

M: Sound familiar?

S: Only too familiar. You see, Mary, this is why it’s important to put all of this down—because all of this is familiar, and also unfortunately, it is what’s going to happen in the future. This is all going to come up again, and there has to be some way of looking at this…

M: History.

S: Yes.

M: ‘Krishnaji said, “We are through with that. This is the direction of Brockwood, not your direction, but the original direction for which it was begun. Do you want to come with us? If so, it will be an answer in action and not merely verbal.” It was 7:00 p.m. by the time this meeting ended.’

On the twenty-second, ‘Krishnaji finished unpacking and I put away all his things, reorganized drawers, etcetera. In the afternoon, he gave interviews to Mr. Warren Parriae who wants to do something about an annex to Brockwood,’ it says here.

S: Mm, hm.

M: ‘Krishnaji and I went for a walk around the lanes.’

On Sunday, the next day, ‘the Lilliefelts arrived, having motored around southern England for a few days. They are in the West Wing spare room. Krishnaji was interviewed at noon for the Times’ Educational Supplement. Mr. Parriae wants to invest $100,000 in a house nearby, which Brockwood can use. After lunch, I took Erna and Theo around the place. At 4 p.m., Krishnaji had another meeting with the Simmonses, Doris, Donald, and me. Dorothy has asked all the extraneous people to leave, including…’ those people who are having affairs.

S: Alright, without naming names here…

M: Yes.

S: …as you feel uneasy about that, but what is significant here is that…

M: He was dealing with it.

S: …and that people were engaged in their own relationship difficulties…

M: Mm.

S: …which was felt by Krishnaji and obviously others to be inappropriate in a school.

M: Right.

S: Now, this is a very contentious issue. And this is something that needs a little light shed on it. Because they were insisting that it was right, or they wouldn’t stop…

M: Mm, hm.

S: …or something, even with Krishnaji around, they were saying, “No. What I think is right.”

M: Yes.

S: That’s something that’s very interesting to go into. Do you remember anything about why Krishnaji said it was inappropriate? I mean, obviously, it would either mean some people were married to other people when they were having the affairs…

M: Yes, yes.

S: And this was just felt to be a bad influence on the students or…

M: Well, it was…

S: …were they just too self-indulgent…

M: …messy.

S: …and stupid?

M: It was messy.

S: Yes.

M: I mean, I can’t quote him on it, and what I’m saying might just be my interpretation; but it seemed these people were putting all their personal junk first, and not the school.

S: Yes, and also, it puts into perspective the kind of arguments that happen now after Krishnaji is gone, when people say, “No, I have a right to do this, or this is my living the teachings. Who are you to say that I can’t do this?” I mean, it puts it in perspective that people were even willing to say that to Krishnaji.

M: Mm, hm.

S: Which is staggering, when you think of it.

M: Well, the very next morning he talked to the woman concerned before lunch. But I wasn’t there so there’s nothing about what he said. And ‘in the afternoon, I went to Winchester with the Lilliefelts in their car and then went alone by train to Southampton. At the Hertz office I rented a tomato-red Volkswagen and drove home to Brockwood. Krishnaji went walking with a young man who wishes to be part of Brockwood. This was good news to me until Krishnaji added that this young man said that he had a feeling of Krishnaji’s death and that he would be present then when Krishnaji is seventy-seven.’ This is the kind of nuttiness that floats up.

S: Oh, lord.

M: ‘This so shocked me that I felt sick and wished never to hear of this young man again. [S laughs.] Krishnaji was impatient with all this. “You must face it,” he said. “I don’t know why you all make such a fuss about death.” I said I would face it when it came, but I didn’t want to face the trivial references to it conversationally. Later, he said, “I think I will live quite a lot longer, or pop off any time!” [S laughs heartily; M chuckles.]

S: All very comforting!

M: Yes! I was reassured, you can see.

S: Yes. [More laughing.]

M: The next day ‘was quiet. Krishnaji slept a lot. We walked a long walk in the afternoon.’

August twenty-sixth. ‘Krishnaji and I in the red Volkswagen went to Alton, then to London on the 10:20 a.m. train. Naturally, our first stop was at Huntsman, where I ordered a pair of grey Birdseye slacks, and Krishnaji liked the material so much that he ordered a double-breasted suit of the same material. [Chuckling.] We walked to W. Bill Limited and bought two Shetland pullovers for Krishnaji, and then went to the Aperitif, where Mary Lutyens met us for lunch. Krishnaji asked her about “continuing conversation” for the next book…’ That must mean some provisional title. I don’t remember.

S: Mm, hm.

M: ‘…or doing one on parents, children, and teachers. He will start that. We went to Mr. Campion.’ Mr. Campion was the dentist.

S: Mm, hm.

M: ‘And while Krishnaji had his teeth done, I did errands. Then we came home. Erna has heard a rumor that Loebl has resigned as Rajagopal’s lawyer.’

‘The next day was a lovely, warm, clear day. I did deskwork all morning while Krishnaji slept. In the afternoon, we drove to the Itchen River near Avington. Lovely clear stream. We walked along it, but it was too short and we came back to Brockwood.’

S: That must have been from the Bush Inn?

M: It’s the Bush, yes.

S: Hm. [M chuckles; S laughs.]

M: On the twenty-eighth, ‘Before lunch, Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I continued the conversation Krishnaji and I had on what are our reasons to the students against their sleeping together. [M chuckles.] He had to stop for lunch before we finished. Then Krishnaji met the staff and two students who are here for discussions of what cooperation is. Krishnaji said the feeling of cooperation comes first; then, out of that comes its objectives, etcetera. On the walk after, he lit into me, saying I didn’t understand when I asked if the cooperation doesn’t imply action with others, and around some endeavor, the objective or some general nucleus of something, a direction stimulates a feeling of wanting to cooperate. Or, does it get started in the beginning? It generates the wanting to cooperate. I had felt in the discussion that he was stressing cooperation as a primary thing to lead people past the pitfall of beginning by defining what the objections are.’ Does that make any sense to you?

S: Mm, hm.

M: I think I know what he was saying.

S: Yes, I think I do, too. Krishnaji would say that you cooperate for the sake of cooperation.

M: Yes, and then you…

S: Not for a thing.

M: That’s right; you don’t get inspired by the problem and then cooperate.

S: Yes, yes.

M: You cooperate…

S: …out of the spirit of cooperation.

M: …and then deal with problems when they come up.

S: Yes, yes.

M: ‘…and, hence, my bringing up the above went against that. He said he has no plan, but I had said in discussion, that he did. That it was not so. That he was examining and had no preconceived plan.’ I was saying, “You planned what you would say.” He was vehement and impatient. I felt an impasse I couldn’t bridge. Later, he sensed this and said he was sorry. He had been rough and it wouldn’t happen again. When he saw Dorothy later, she was almost in tears of exhaustion. People tried to push their way into staying at Brockwood. Somebody in the garden left.’ Can’t read the writing.

On the twenty-ninth of August, ‘there was the first official meeting of the Krishnamurti Foundation Trust and the Krishnamurti Foundation of America. Present were Krishnaji, Dorothy Simmons, Mary Cadogan, George Digby, David Bohm, Erna and Theo Lilliefelt, and me…also Hughes van der Straten, who stayed for the night. Earlier the post brought Leipziger’s account in detail of the Tapper-Loebl-Leipziger meeting held on August sixth. In it, we learned for the first time the disturbing news that Tapper, without consulting Leipziger, proposed that Rajagopal be allowed to carry on publications of post-1968 material. Everyone thinks this is non-negotiable. Krishnaji leans to thinking that perhaps Rajagopal may want to settle with him rather than go through lawyers. All this plus the Indian Foundation, Spanish-American, and Australian potential foundations were discussed. Finances look somewhat more optimistic.’

Next day, ‘there was a long morning talk between Krishnaji, Hughes, Erna, and me about the impossibility of the Tapper proposal, that Rajagopal carry on publications. Erna cabled Leipziger our feelings and drafted a stiff letter on all of this. Krishnaji again explored the idea that Rajagopal doesn’t really want to carry on this work; he’s too old and sick, but wants the rapprochement with Krishnaji, and may want to hand things over personally to him.’ This was his perpetual hope…

S: Mm, hm.

M: …or optimism. ‘Hughes flew back to Belgium. After lunch, I drove Erna and Theo to Blackdown for tea with the Linkses. Krishnaji was ready to come but looked so tired that he stayed and slept. Mary had written to him yesterday to suggest that Brockwood needed his presence eight to nine months of the year. It was a warm day, and pleasant at the Linkses. We got back to Brockwood in time for supper.’

On the thirty-first of August, ‘Krishnaji dictated to me, in the morning, a conversation on the meaning of cooperation for The Bulletin. In a resolve never to fall behind, I spent most of the rest of the day typing it, and before going to bed had it in an envelope and in the post, on its way to Mary L. for vetting. If I could keep up-to-date with book, letters, and laundry, all would be well.’ [Both laugh.] ‘I rang father in Deauville. He is well and busy with his friends, returns to Paris Thursday. At lunch, Dorothy gave a resume of the instant hostility of the latest pupil from the U.S. He wants to leave after being here two hours’—[both laugh]—‘because of his hair!’

S: Oh, yes!

M: ‘It was suggested that it be kept reasonably clean, neat, and not too long. Hair is one’s most sacred object these days. Krishnaji and I and Whisper walked along the road toward West Meon and then down the hill between the fields, a long and lovely walk.’ That’s when you go toward West Meon and then you go left. There’s a way you can go down.

S: Down to the Farm Shop?

M: Yes, toward the Farm Shop.

S: Yes. Yes.

M: ‘The first time there for me. Krishnaji decided to start a new book tomorrow on education. Giving views of parents, students, and teachers in India, Europe, and the U.S. Mary L. wants to start editing his next book in January, which means we must work on this one every day. I will put aside typing the other one and try. I must keep this one typed without falling behind. It takes me all of a day, so it will take some doing.’ [Both chuckle.]

The first of September. ‘Krishnaji began dictation of the new education book. It began very like the conversations except that the questioner was a group of parents, in this case, Indian ones. There was the usual lovely bit of nature descriptions at the beginning—Rajghat in this one. Though I typed in the afternoon, it was impossible to finish. Krishnaji talked to the Biascoecheas at 4 p.m. and wanted me present on it, as it was about the Hispano-Americana Foundation. Then we took Whisper for a walk. Erna and Theo went to Stonehenge, Longleat, and the New Forest.

The next day, ‘Krishnaji did #2 of the education book. I went to Winchester on errands. It rained and the de Vidases came for the talks.’

On the third of September, ‘he dictated #3 of the education book in the morning. We had a 12:30 p.m. lunch, and made the 1:50 p.m. train from Alton to London. Both had Huntsman fittings. Krishnaji bought a windbreaker at Lillywhites and we were back at Brockwood by 6:30 p.m. On trains, Krishnaji gets very dreamy.’ [Chuckles.]

The next day, ‘again he dictated. The house is swarming with people. Balasundarum arrived from India. There’s a letter from Rosenthal’—that’s our lawyer—‘who will be in Norwich on Sunday.’

On the fifth, ‘Saturday, a lovely sunny day. The tent had been put up in the field beyond the swimming pool, and in it, Krishnaji gave his first of four talks. About 600 people came. The sound system worked excellently this year, and lunch was had after the talk by everyone, including Krishnaji. Martha Longnecker was there—the Digbys, the Lilliefelts, and I discussed publication matters afterward.’

Sunday the sixth, ‘another lovely day and Krishnaji gave the second talk, very good, very strong. Again, a picnic lunch in the tent—800 to 900 people today. At 4 p.m., the two Krishnamurti Foundations met—Biascoechea, Farias, and Sendra, regarding their forming a Krishnamurti Foundation; a Krishnamurti Fundación Hispano-Americana. They never could give a reason why they wanted to be called a foundation, but it looks as if they will. There was talk of how more protection could be put in all the foundations’ charters to protect Krishnaji’s intention. For instance, they would publish only his books, etcetera. Later, we took Whisper for a walk, and later I spoke to Father in Paris.’

The seventh of September, ‘Erna and I rang Saul Rosenthal in Norwich. He can come here next Sunday to discuss settlement proposals.’ Then things about my brother and sister-in-law. ‘Krishnaji dictated No. 5 on the education book. At 4 p.m., he held a meeting with the school. Brockwood’s intention is intelligence, which is sensitivity and freedom. Freedom equals freedom from one’s own conditioning. A very good discussion;

Editor’s Note: The linked discussion is labeled as being on the eighth of September, but the archivist of the Krishnamurti Foundation of America reassures us that this is actually the discussion on the seventh, and is simply mislabeled in the book as the eighth.

it should be in The Bulletin. Krishnaji walked with Balasundarum, and I walked with the Lilliefelts. Mrs. Jayakar has the flu in Bombay and can’t be here till the eighteenth, missing the meeting on Monday. The Lilliefelts’ charter flight leaves that day. We will go ahead with the meeting on Monday. A tiring but busy day. Balasundarum showed Rishi Valley slides in the evening.’

Tuesday, the eighth of September. ‘There were showers, and it was colder. Krishnaji held a discussion in the tent for those who are staying in the neighborhood between the weekend talks; 150 to 200 people or more. Questions were on education and ran rather like yesterday’s school discussion, except that he made it sound utterly new. Intelligence, freedom, and the fragmented conditional mind could see that it is patterned as it happens, and that instantaneous perception frees it.’

‘The Bohms asked to see Krishnaji and he talked to them at 4 p.m., and later Krishnaji went for a walk with Dave. Meanwhile Erna, Theo, Balasundarum, and I talked until suppertime. Balasundarum gave us the background of the Foundation for New Education in India.’

S: What happened to the Foundation for New Education?

M: It became Krishnamurti Foundation of India. They just changed the name.

S: Oh, that’s right, that’s right.

M: But there was a big fuss about whether Krishnaji could be on the board.

S: I remember.

M: I don’t know if that’s mentioned in here.

S: Do you want to mention it now? Let’s just talk about that for a minute, that whole fuss, because that was a really interesting [laughs] ordeal.

M: It must come in here somewhere. Um, well, let me read what it says here.

S: Ok.

M: Just the end of this day and then we can discuss that. As I was saying, ‘Erna, Theo, Balasundarum and I talked till suppertime. He gave us the background of the FNE-KFI, and we gave the reasons for the charter of the KF England—an effort to safeguard Krishnaji’s legal rights to the hilt. At the end, he asked what we wanted them to do in India, implying that they would.’ And then it says, ‘to be continued.’ I suppose that’s sort of me being—[S laughs]—skeptical! ‘Earlier, we gave him Leipziger’s report in June and Tapper’s letter to Loebl, etcetera.’

S: Do you want to talk about what happened with this Foundation for New Education?

M: Well, I can’t remember the exact details, whether it had already happened or happened later. But they…it’s as though when Krishnaji started making Krishnamurti Foundations, that became the thing to do, if you know what I mean.

S: Mm, hm.

M: And that’s, I think, why the Biascoecheas wanted a fundación in Puerto Rico, instead of just a committee. And also, India caught on that they were a bit out-of-date if they didn’t do something to equal KFE, as it was known then (Krishnamurti Foundation of England, later known as KFT, Krishnamurti Foundation Trust) and KF America. But, as I recall, and I can’t give you the dates of this now, but it may emerge that they did that, but with the interesting condition that Rajagopal was a member of it and Krishnaji wasn’t. So figure that one out! [S laughs.] Reasons were, for Krishnaji, that he shouldn’t have to bother with things like that. He was above all that. He was a spiritual head and shouldn’t be troubled with the nitty-gritty of meetings.

S: Right, the things of the material world. Like money. [Laughs.]

M: And why they were holding onto Rajagopal was never clearly explained. Eventually, they dropped him when he came up for reelection, I think, as I recall. Maybe. Anyway, eventually he was out. And, of course, what changed everything, and I am now being catty, I guess, but it’s how it happened, was when they wanted Vasanta Vihar [1], they had to bring a lawsuit against Rajagopal to get it and almost didn’t.

S: Mm, hm.

M: So that kind of changed their attitude.

S: Yes. And there were also some strange people on it, though, as I remember, in the early years, who were left over from Rajagopal’s school of thought that…

M: Yes, there were. And, of course, Madhavachari was on it, and the head of it, and it turned out in the end, to their surprise, that Madhavachari had been passing all the information about the case that he got from Krishnaji to Rajagopal. So Rajagopal knew what was being planned. A real betrayal. That sort of took the icing off their feelings for Madhavachari.

S: Yes. Terrible. But also, Pupul also was not wanting Krishnaji on this board.

M: No, no.

S: None of them: Sunanda, Pama. None of them, as far as I remember.

M: Well, I remember Pupul as the chief spokesman for this point of view.

S: Mm, hm.

M: But I don’t know how many…it’s an odd group of people, because a lot of the people, as you know, don’t know what’s going on, and only turn up for a yearly meeting where they sit silently and nod.

S: Mm, hm.

M: The people who ran it were the…

S: …same ones who run it now.

M: Exactly.

S: Yes.

M: Well, you could say that of us, too. Only we don’t run it quite as…

S: [laughing] No, some of us don’t run any of it anymore. [S laughs more.]

M: No, some of us don’t run it anymore! That’s right! [Laughs.] I don’t know whether to boast or to sort of mention it out of the side of my mouth. [Both chuckle.] Anyway, that’s how it was then.

The next day was Wednesday the ninth, and ‘gale winds and cold prevailed. Krishnaji was full of fire and dictated No. 6 on the educational book.’

S: Which we still don’t know the name of.

M: Which we still don’t know the name of[2]. ‘At 3:30 p.m., de Vidas, Erna, and Theo were to meet, but de Vidas was late and I had to leave them to tape Krishnaji’s discussion with the school. We continued, “what Brockwood is about,” how to bring about intelligence and freedom in this. And what is discipline? What do we do if after discovery through intelligent discussion and agreement the person still doesn’t follow through?’ That’s what we talked about. ‘Hair was brought up as a subject by Dominic. If clean and tidy, fine, but otherwise is disagreeable to others who have to live alongside. Sensitivity, consideration, should prevent dirty bare feet, etcetera, etcetera.’ Oh dear! [Both laugh.] That was the early problems. ‘But if a person perpetually disregards all this, do we discipline, punish which is repellent? What do we do?’ [Chuckles.] It became almost a detective story, wondering how Krishnaji would solve it. Later, he told me that he had no idea where he was going; it just came out. That it is the reluctant person who punishes himself by pulling away from the intelligence of an offer to live in friendship and accord, and the learning process here.

Krishnaji was too tired to walk after all this, and went to bed. I was exhausted, too. Erna and Theo and de Vidas were still talking. That was useful, too. We called George Digby about a meeting on Saturday afternoon for publications for the foreign members here. Erna had earlier drawn up a letter answering Leipziger’s questions on past publications. In the evening, Balasundarum talked with Biascoechea and said he had seen Krishnaji’s Indian horoscope at Adyar, and that he was born at 12:24 a.m., after midnight on May thirteenth, 1895.’ That’s still another date. ‘The Indians traditionally counted the day as starting at 6 a.m.’ I thought it was 4 a.m.

S: I also thought it was 4 a.m.

M: So they consider that May twelfth is his birthday, but according to Western figuring, it is 24 minutes into May thirteenth. Well, all that’s wrong[3].

S: Hm.

M: ‘Theosophy, said Krishnaji, in a former life, was one of the Buddha’s disciples. Balasundarum gave me a photo of Krishnaji when young, and said’—this is all Balasundarum—‘said Krishnaji, in answer to his and Pupul’s question on how it was he could see things without division, etcetera, how it came about. Krishnaji replied, he could remember that as a boy he had always seen things without any division, i.e., the observer and the observed were there from the beginning in him.’ The perception of that. ‘Yesterday, Balasundarum told me of Rajagopal’s bullying Krishnaji in India in 1957, and also Rosalind’s rudeness to him in India in 1956.’

On the tenth of September, ‘Krishnaji held the second discussion in the tent for those here between talks. A woman new to all this and a worker in a mental hospital, by the name of Spooner, kept asking, from the psychiatric point of view, questions on thought, solving everything, trying to understand through the brain. Krishnaji gave a brilliant analysis, laying bare how thought is the cause of trouble—fear, as an example, cannot exist without thought. Erna and Theo left for London after lunch and spent the night there.’

The next day, ‘Krishnaji dictated #7 in the education book. Rosenthal rang from London and will be here on Sunday. Krishnaji, Dorothy, Whisper, and I took a long walk down the lane between the fields. Erna and Theo returned. They’d had a long lunch with Michael Rubinstein and Mary Cadogan. After supper, I talked to Balasundarum about Indian publication matters.’

The twelfth of September ‘was pouring rain in the early morning, but it luckily stopped in time for Krishnaji’s third talk in the tent. He lunched there, sitting with Mar de Manziarly, who had just come from Boston. Later, he showed her through the West Wing. Erna, Theo, and I were talking right up to the 4 p.m. meeting with the Digbys to persuade George, at Krishnaji’s instructions, that the foreign committees must be able to get publication rights for their languages from KF London directly and not have to go to Servire or Gollancz[4]. George clings, like a limpet, to his concept of loyalty and to Verhulst of Servire. He feels overly indebted to him for publishing the talks when we first began to do it and we hadn’t a publisher. Verhulst has profited by this, and has, in fact, done us no favors, but George cannot see that the committees, though they have every sound reason not to want to deal with Servire and Gollancz, nevertheless, do much work and are owed something by the Foundation, too. De Vidas has been the opponent of Digby, rude as usual, and has stirred up others too, but he did come up with an offer from Delachaux et Niestlé, a Swiss publisher, to do the French translations, and George had brushed him off. Nelly was on our side in all this, and Erna, Theo, and I talked to George right up to the 4 p.m. meeting attended by Krishnaji, de Vidas, Madame Samuel, Farias, Sendra, the Biascoecheas, Tilly Von Eckman, Schmidt, Balasundarum, and the Greek and Danish representatives, Sybil Dobson (who took minutes), the Digbys, the Lilliefelts, and me. Krishnaji led the meeting. Then there were sparks between de Vidas and Digby—de Vidas being his rude and heavy-handed self, George resenting it and defending Servire. It came out, at one point, via Tilly, that Verhulst hadn’t even published in Dutch, except the Gollancz books. With Nelly prodding, George said that the Flight of the Eagle—it was called the Cry of the Eagle then (selected 1969 talks being published by Harper and Row shortly)—is available without Servire, and they all dove for that. De Vidas will offer that to Delachaux et Niestlé. Then, when the meeting was all over, George said to de Vidas he would have to wait three weeks until George had talked to Verhulst. At that point I went back in, and Nelly and I pointed out that he had to give de Vidas a letter authorizing him to offer the book immediately. A long day.’

Sunday, September thirteenth, ‘Erna, Theo, and I met Saul Rosenthal at Alton, and we all came back in time for Krishnaji’s fourth talk in the tent. A big crowd. Afterward, the four of us lunched and talked in the new West Wing dining room. Krishnaji ate in the tent, then joined us, and we set a line of proposal to be made to Rajagopal to join us, and become a trustee of KFT in London.’ What?! Well, that’s what it says. ‘Via a cordial letter from Saul and Leipziger to Loebl saying that Krishnaji would come on his way to Australia to Ojai to meet Rajagopal to invite him into the fold. Specifics to be worked out by lawyers later. Discussed this as essentially what Rajagopal seems to want as an ultimate face-saver for him. Krishnaji then rested and went downstairs, and he questioned Mary Cadogan on events in the past. At 4 p.m., Krishnaji came down and the English trustees, i.e., the Digbys, Dorothy, and David Bohm, met Saul. All of us discussed the above proposal and got their consent to inviting Rajagopal to join KFT London.’ I don’t remember anything about that!

S: I never heard of that before.

M: Well, it obviously sank into the mist, and was never heard of again, but at least it showed an effort to try to have come to some accord.

On the fourteenth, ‘Saul Rosenthal left Brockwood and flew to Los Angeles. At 11 a.m., Krishnaji, the Lilliefelts, the Digbys, Dorothy, David Bohm, Balasundarum, and I met to discuss the Indian Foundation and relations between the three Foundations. The question of Krishnaji’s formal position on the KF India was discussed, but can’t be settled until Pupul Jayakar arrives later in the week. Krishnaji raised the question of what is his and everyone else’s responsibility in all these matters, and bore down on Balasundarum about whether the Indian schools really work at the teachings. Otherwise, the American trustees—if they get Ojai funds, can’t, with a responsible conscience, support them,’ meaning India. ‘Balasundarum gave the history of the Rishi Valley Trust, the Foundation for New Education and its relation with KWINC, and finally the structure of the present KFI. This took all day.’

The next day, ‘Erna and Theo left Brockwood to drive back to Frankfurt and fly from there to California. Krishnaji dictated #8 in the education book to me. The de Vidases left. I put de Vidas clear on the story he got from Vigeveno, and has repeated, that in 1966, when Krishnaji came to Ojai, he refused to see Rajagopal but sent Alain Naudé instead.’ That was a complete fabrication. ‘Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked in the p.m.’

The next day was pretty much the same.

On the seventeenth, ‘he dictated #10 of the education book. Pupul Jayakar was met at airport by Dorothy and Balasundarum, and arrived at Brockwood for a very late lunch. Krishnaji talked to her and Balasundarum, and after tea Dorothy, Krishnaji, and I went for a walk.’

The next day, ‘Krishnaji, Pupul Jayakar, Balasundarum, and I met in the morning and discussed the KFI’s relations with the other KFs. She understands, as does Balasundarum, that funds in the United States cannot be divided equally.’ They wanted whatever KFA got to be shared.

S: Mm, hm.

M: ‘She suggested an annual meeting be held of at least one member of each of the three main Foundations, as only then could there be cooperation built for now and for the future. Suggested topicS: the needs of each foundation, publications, matters of overall policy, and any other pressing matters. She had read the legal papers about Rajagopal and is shocked. She wants Madhavachari to see them. Krishnaji asked for suggestions for a settlement, and it was suggested that Rajagopal be given something to do. Krishnaji then told her and Balasundarum, in total privacy, of what was decided during Rosenthal’s visit last Sunday, i.e., to offer Rajagopal membership as a trustee of KF London, and this in return for all assets in archives.’ You can see why…

S: I can see why that didn’t float. [Both laugh.]

M: ‘They both welcomed the idea and approved completely. We discussed Krishnaji being on the KFI board as a distinction for three main Krishnamurti Foundations, and as a differentiation from subsequent ones.’ If he was on the board, that would be the difference between the three main ones and any future ones. ‘They will try to come up with something, what will probably be honorary.’ You see, they didn’t want him to have any power.

S: Any voting rights, yes.

M: ‘Pupul says that if Krishnaji disapproves of anything, everyone on the Indian board would do what he says.’ And then I have parenthesis question mark: ‘(?)’

S: Mm.

M: ‘Later in the day, I voiced my doubts about being an Indian trustee. She said it had been a gesture, and it didn’t matter if I couldn’t attend meetings. She seems to understand that it wasn’t feasible to have representatives of each Foundation on all the boards.’ That was another thing that came up. ‘But thought the idea was a good one in principle. Hopes that the annual meeting of representatives from each Foundation will have the same effect. In the p.m., Krishnaji held a meeting with the school. A Wilfred Thomas telephoned to ask to interview Krishnaji for Australian broadcasting. Michael Rabiger of BBC came to talk over a half-hour film of Krishnaji and Brockwood next weekend. This was a long and tiring day.’

On the nineteenth of September, ‘Krishnaji dictated #11 in the education book. Balasundarum left. In the late afternoon, Krishnaji and I took a long walk, coming back across the fields and into the Grove. We had Whisper with us, and we no sooner entered the grove than there was an extraordinary silence. Neither of us spoke, and we walked as though we didn’t want to tread on the grass. There was no wind; an utter stillness. The great trees were like silent living guardians of something, witnesses. There was a sense of something sacred, a presence that was total stillness. When we came out, latched the gate and walked across the field, Krishnaji said, “Did you feel it? It was something holy. One didn’t even want to step on the grass. Whatever there is about this place is centered there, not in the house.” Late in the evening, I remembered my dream several summers ago in Gstaad.’ Oh, that’s the river dream; I don’t want to go into it again.

‘After supper, Mrs. Jayakar and I talked in the drawing room. Krishnaji was above in his room, and while we sat there, that strange quality was in the room. She spoke of the book she is writing on art and yoga. We spoke of Krishnaji.’

On Sunday, the twentieth, ‘Krishnaji planned to write, but a conversation at breakfast lasted into the morning. He sat with Pupul and me in the West Wing dining room, and got onto the subject of kundalini. He questioned Pupul on whether her observation of what happened in Madras and at Ooty in 1948[5] could have been kundalini. Her version, which she wrote in detail, was taken by Rajagopal, who forbad her to make a copy. She described it to Krishnaji and me. She and Nandini were staying in Vasanta Vihar. They heard Krishnaji groaning in his room and went in, fearing he was sick. He looked at her and said, “Are you Rosalind?”

She said, “No.”

He told them to stay in the room and not leave him alone. He said, “Krishna has gone away,” and then he put his hand over his mouth and said, “I mustn’t say his name. He doesn’t like me to say his name.” He was in apparent pain, sweating and faint.

This happened again the same year when he was staying with Frydman[6]. It would start around 6 p.m. and lasted until 1 a.m. He told Pupul and Nandini to stay in the room’—this is the Ooty occurrence—‘but wouldn’t have Frydman there. He would faint and an extraordinary beauty would come into his face. Pupul described what was happening to him as seeing a total cleansing of his mind.

In reply to Krishnaji’s questioning, she said that she wouldn’t describe it as kundalini, which is a result of conscious deliberate meditation on chakra centers in the lotus pose, and the result of great effort and a release of great energy, bringing various powers, etcetera. But Krishnaji’s various related experiences were different. Leadbeater, who knew at least something about kundalini, couldn’t explain Krishnaji’s experience. In kundalini, there is a breaking of the energy in the mind, like an explosion. Krishnaji never seems to have been caught in conditioning. He was very interested, and questioned her at length. After these episodes, he has no memory of them at all. In Madras, and maybe it was at Ooty, he spoke of “the shining ones, the great ones are here.” In the afternoon, Krishnaji spoke to the school and we took a walk.’

The next day, ‘Krishnaji dictated #13 of the education book. I went for my postal order for a new passport for Krishnaji. Pupul will take the application to the high commissioner tomorrow. We walked in the afternoon.’

On September twenty-second. ‘Pupul left, and the following day, Krishnaji dictated #14 in the morning. I dashed for the 12:50 p.m. train to London and, with Anstee, covered many shops looking for a table and something to put over the fireplace in the drawing room. Home by 7:15 p.m.’

On the twenty-fourth of September, ‘Krishnaji and I to London by train. Huntsman fittings for both of us. We lunched at the Aperitif, stopped at Mallard’s for Krishnaji to look at the third piece of the tapestry we could get for the drawing room’—that’s the one over the fireplace—‘and a vase of flowers. Krishnaji liked it, and so I will get it for the fireplace. We took an early train back.’

Friday, the twenty-fifth, ‘Michael Rabiger who works for the BBC and is making a half-hour color film of Krishnaji and Brockwood, came with two others to start three days of work on it. Krishnaji dictated #15 to me in the morning. I met Sacha de Manziarly at Alton. He is spending the weekend.’

On the twenty-sixth, ‘Krishnaji dictated #16 to me in the morning. In the afternoon, there was filmed discussion between Krishnaji and fifteen students and staff. We took a walk with Henri Methorst, who came for lunch. Anneke came in the evening. I met her at Winchester. She is to spend the week.’ Do you know who Methorst is?

S: Mm, hm.

M: Sunday, the twenty-seventh, ‘Krishnaji dictated #17 in the morning, and then held a discussion with the school later in the morning. In the afternoon, he was interviewed on film by Michael Rabiger.

On the twenty-eighth, ‘I read in the Times that there is a huge brush fire in Malibu. Krishnaji said I should telephone immediately, but it was 1 a.m. in California then, so I waited. Then a telegram came from Betsy saying both houses are safe, the Dunnes and Filomena as well. Krishnaji finished dictating #17 that he’d begun the day before.’

On the twenty-ninth, ‘With Krishnaji to London. He to Mr. Campion’—that’s the dentist—‘and I to Mary Cadogan, and then to American Express to pick up Krishnaji’s new passport and tickets. Straightened out my own at TWA, and bought at Pan Am my LA to Sidney/LA ticket. Meanwhile, Mary Links fetched Krishnaji at Campion’s, and we met at L’Aperitif for lunch. Sacha came, too. Krishnaji and I did errands and finally took the train home.’

On the thirtieth, ‘I took the 7:50 a.m. train to London. Got Krishnaji’s and my Australian visas and then Krishnaji’s Italian and U.S. visas, and got to the Brompton Oratory at 1 p.m., where Ginny Travers met me, and we found a small Italian restaurant in Beauchamp Place for lunch. Bill is in Spain on a picture. The lion that Krishnaji and I saw in June is now in Kenya with George Adamson.[7] [Both chuckle lightly.]

At 3 p.m., I met George Digby at the Victoria & Albert and had a very nice afternoon, being shown all through his department, which was textiles. I saw a tapestry like our tree and the vase one at Brockwood. I went with him to their house, and had a pleasant tea with him and Nelly. Caught the 7:42 p.m. train home. A letter had come from Filomena about the fire.’

On October first, ‘for the first time, Krishnaji and I went to London via the Winchester Station. Krishnaji was very pleased with it, as it was a better train. Part of the scenery was new, with some yellow fields of mustard. He was “lost” and far away. Later, he tried to put it into words in a dictation: emptiness and stillness within, which lasts all day. “That is my rest,” he said. We went to Huntsman and to L’Aperitif, where Mary L. joined us. Krishnaji went to Mr. Campion while I walked to the health food shop on Baker Street. We had luck in immediately finding a taxi, which took us to the train back to Winchester.’

October second. ‘Krishnaji had said he would have only one more talk to the school this coming Sunday, but Doris Pratt came upstairs and made a rather dramatic plea for one today, too. I said it was too much, but left it to him. “Nonsense” from Doris; she said something to the effect that people were going to kill him with their demands anyway, so it was necessary for the school that she should be the one to kill him by asking for the meeting.’ That was Doris’s…

S: That was Doris’s logic.

M: …logic. [Both chuckle.] ‘Krishnaji said, oh, it didn’t matter; he would see them at 4 p.m. He thought I was angry, which I wasn’t, only disapproving, but leaving it at that. He charmingly tried to divert me by saying lovely things and about the trees and sky. [Both chuckle.] He began dictation on #18, but it didn’t come, just a description of yesterday in the train. He intended to do one from the point of view of European students, but gave it up. A walk after the school discussion, and he was tired and wanted to turn back before either Dorothy or I did.’

October third, ‘I got a letter about the California fire: horrendous. Krishnaji switched the student in the dictation to an Indian one, and completed #18. He slept well last night. There was a cable from Erna that Rajagopal telephoned her last evening, asking “as an old friend” if she would see him. She said yes.

The next day, ‘Krishnaji dictated #19. Roger Straus of Farrar, Straus & Giroux came to lunch with Krishnaji, bringing an Italian woman, Lucia Marionetti Barbi. At 4 p.m., Krishnaji held a discussion with the school.’

On October fifth, ‘I spoke on the phone to friends in Malibu. Krishnaji dictated #20. We talked Anneke about the Stichting[8]. She left after lunch. Krishnaji was interviewed for Australian radio by Wilfred Thomas and his wife. We took a late walk in the rain.’

The sixth, ‘was packing and deskwork all day. The drama over Dominic leaving or not leaving continues. He wants Krishnaji to see him. The students also want Krishnaji to see him, and Dorothy said it would help their state of mind. So, he saw Dominic. The boy really had nothing to say.’

‘In the afternoon, we fled the packing and had a marvelous walk down the lane between the fields. The sky had dark clouds with bright sun, illuminating the earth. Autumn has touched the trees. There was the lovely color of the Hampshire earth, honey-buff and pinkly brown where some of the fields were plowed. The air was bright and clean and had the sharpness of autumn, though it wasn’t cold. We cut across the great bowl of a field and ate blackberries along the hedge. Whisper has learned to catch them. What a lovely land it is.’

On the morning of October seventh, ‘we were up early at 5:30 a.m. Krishnaji did his exercises, and I packed. Doris was very helpful with last-minute things, and yesterday, she got the interview correspondence off my back’—that means she typed things for me. We said goodbye to Mary L. by telephone. Everyone was lined up on the driveway to say goodbye to Krishnaji. I went around first, and there was a real warmth of affection in each one of them. Even Dominic, who was leaving the scene, was on the point of tears, and leaned suddenly to kiss my cheek. Katherine Merriment Lane, the new student, gave me two little letters, one for Krishnaji, one for me. A very touching and gentle goodbye. Krishnaji then shook hands with each one; and with Dorothy in the Land Rover, we drove off for Heathrow.’

‘Letters had just come from Erna, describing her telephone call from Rajagopal. Copies of lawyer Wyatt’s reactions to Rosenthal-Leipziger draft. I read them to Krishnaji in the car and raised the point that Rajagopal may well try to telephone Krishnaji in Rome. We discussed what he would say if this happened, i.e., that if Rajagopal asked to see him, that he is coming via California to Australia and might see him then. Wyatt made a strong point that Krishnaji shouldn’t see Rajagopal alone, and Krishnaji said he would take me, or if Erna has seen Rajagopal by then, that the three of us should see Rajagopal. Wyatt wanted a witness to what is said at the meeting.’

‘At Heathrow, we negotiated our mountainous luggage, mostly mine. Went first to Alitalia and checked Krishnaji through, then to Air France for me. Dorothy said goodbye to us and we went through immigration and sat in the departure lounge for about forty-five minutes. Humanity was a scruffy lot, and Krishnaji was all elegance and simplicity. His Rome flight was called and he went off with the grace, exquisite manners, and face lighting up in affection that only he has. My flight was an hour late leaving. Krishnaji was arriving in Rome before my Air France took off at 3:15 p.m. The walk to the plane and from it in Orly was almost more than I could manage. I carried camera, cassette tape recorder, Uher, typewriter, and a bag with all of Krishnaji’s dictations, and both books in tape and notebook form. [Both M and S laugh.]

S: That’s your playing Sherpa once again. [Said laughingly; M chuckles, too.]

M: I went to Father’s and found him looking well. We talked and had supper. Doris telephoned from Brockwood that Rajagopal had just rung from California for Krishnaji, and was told he’d gone to Rome. I thought about telephoning Krishnaji to let him know Rajagopal might call, but thought this morning’s conversation covered it. Shortly, the telephone rang again and it was Vanda’s voice, and Krishnaji wanting to tell me that Rajagopal had just rung in a very pathetic voice, and wants to see Krishnaji as soon as possible. Would he come to California? Krishnaji said he already planned to go there en route to Sidney. Rajagopal wants to see him and tell him that he loves him, and then see that things are alright. Krishnaji said he would think about it and Rajagopal said please telephone as soon as you are there, that the meeting was more important than the talks in Australia, that he wants to see that things are alright and be his old self. Krishnaji said to me he thinks Rajagopal is afraid he will die and wants to mend things with Krishnaji. Asked me to tell Erna but have her keep it quiet.’

The next day, ‘I wrote a cable and letter to Erna with Krishnaji’s messages. I lunched with Father at Ledoyen, and bought a suit at Dior.’

On the ninth of October, there is more about Paris. ‘I went to Charvet and chose four shirt materials for Krishnaji. During supper, Vanda and Krishnaji telephoned. Rajagopal had rung again from Ojai. Vanda asked him not to speak to Krishnaji, who was resting. Rajagopal gave his message that if Krishnaji didn’t “withdraw for technical reasons,” Rajagopal would be forced to go to court to defend himself, and Krishnaji would be “exposed.”’ You see, it was always one day that, and the next day this.

S: Remarkable.

M: Yes. ‘That he loved Krishnaji and that the reason he was calling was that Krishnaji must see him in California. I asked both Krishnaji and Vanda if Rajagopal had said he would go to court, or it would go to court. Krishnaji put Vanda on, and she wasn’t positive which of the two it was. Rajagopal asked if I were there, and she said I was in Paris. Rajagopal said that Krishnaji would never have done all this but for those around him.’ [Both M and S laugh.] ‘Krishnaji had been resting in bed’—this is in Rome—‘and felt (quote) “washed out” (unquote), but went for a walk and to Marchetti today, but found it closed.’ That’s the shirt-maker.

S: I remember.

M: ‘The telephone connection broke at this point. Wrote another cable to Erna about Rajagopal.’

‘The next day I moved to the Plaza Athénée to make room for my brother and Lisa, his wife.’

On the eleventh, ‘We went to Longchamp. I spent the evening typing in the hotel.’ [Said with a chuckle.]

On Monday, the twelfth, Paris. ‘Krishnaji telephoned from Rome. He has had no more calls from Rajagopal. He has been resting and going to the cinema. Sounds relaxed and as if he felt like chatting. He speaks in Perugia on Saturday. He asked me just when I will be in California.’ Well, then it’s family things.

‘I went to the Goya exhibit at the Orangerie, and walked to Robert’s chemist for a Braun electric razor for Krishnaji. Arranged with Mr. Dickinson at Lobb to get Krishnaji’s new moccasins and embauchoir[9] by Wednesday. It was a hot day, 75 degrees or more. Marcelle Bondoneau came to tea. There was a late supper at Father’s. Played parts of Betsy’s tape with the Dunnes and Filomena on the Malibu fire to Bud and Lisa.’ Betsy went out and interviewed them all. They’d had a terrible fire; we almost lost their house and my house next door.

On the thirteenth, “to the races again with Father. His colt came in second in a race. Bud asked where Krishnaji and I would stay in New York in April. I asked Father if I could be the tenant of his Ritz Tower flat. He said he wouldn’t use it; go ahead and talk to the manager about it. No offer to let me have it or reduce the rent. Bud was aghast, but I wasn’t surprised. Father seems to have some sort of insecure feeling about money, bordering on anxiousness.’

The next day, ‘Father is taken in an ambulance to the American Hospital. He was in intensive care. He’d had a heart attack.’

S: Oh.

M: ‘But it doesn’t seem too severe. I canceled my flight tomorrow. Bud telephoned Ms. Neilsen to tell Mother and so forth. I packed and checked out of the Plaza Athénée and moved over to Father’s flat. We went to see him in the afternoon and he was sitting up and reading a detective story and complaining most energetically about the supper they gave him. I talked to the doctor. I talked to Krishnaji in Rome and told him the change in my plans. He goes on Friday afternoon to Perugia and returns to Rome on Sunday.’

On the fifteenth, ‘I went with Bud and Lisa to the hospital. Father was sitting up very talkative, indignant at the food.’ Then it’s all about Father.

S: How old was your father in 1970?

M: He was born in ’92. So, he was 78.

I’m still in Paris on the sixteenth. ‘Father was better and so I decided to leave for New York tomorrow. He was eating lunch when we left the hospital, so absorbed in it that he didn’t look up when we left. We ran into Dr. somebody, the English doctor who examined…’ well, that’s all about Father. The heart event did no damage to the heart, but he’s not generally in good condition, nor is his whole vascular system.’ Well, I won’t go on about that.

On Saturday, the seventeenth, ‘the news from Father at the hospital was that Father spent a good night. This allowed me to pack early and breakfast with Bud. The bags were already loaded in the car by Michel’—Michel was the chauffeur. ‘When the telephone rang, it was Krishnaji from Perugia asking for news of my father and my plans. I said he was better and I was leaving in ten minutes. “Oh, in that case, I won’t say what I was going to suggest?”’

‘“What was it?”’

‘“That if you have to stay with your father and you want to come with me when I go? Do you want to come with me when I go?”’

‘I said, did he want me for any reason? That I would, if he wanted me to. It was very tempting. But I would still have to go to New York eventually and settle everything there. So, we talked just a little. He gave a talk this afternoon. The call made me happy.’

‘So I went to Orly and took the noon plane to New York.’ Well, it was about the plane; officials are looking at baggage now of suspicious-looking things. Had a seat in the non-smoking center section. ‘Got to New York seven and a half hours later, exhausting wrestle with my six checked bags and four hand-carried ones.’ [S laughs heartily; M chuckles.] ‘Went to Bud’s apartment. Spoke to everybody on the telephone.’

The next day, ‘I went up to my mother’s at the Vineyard, and went to Seven Gates and walked around.’ And we’ll skip all that.

S: Did your mother just have property at Seven Gates?

M: Mother owned the property; it was hers, and she left it in her will…

S: The property that Bud has?

M: Yes. She left it in her will to Bud and me, and as I never intended to use it, Bud bought me out and built his house. Mother owned it for years; she kept talking about building, but she never did.

There’s just family stuff until October twenty-second, when ‘I left on an early flight to Boston, then New York. Letter from Erna about her calling Rajagopal to accept his request that they meet, which got postponed, of course. Went to the Ritz Tower to speak to the manager about Father’s apartment for Krishnaji in April. The daily rental is $108!’ Huh-huh. That seemed awful to me by the exclamation point.

S: [chuckling] Oh, yes.

M: On the twenty-third, ‘I went to meet Mr. Donald Cutler and Mrs. Marie Carlton respectively, religious books and publicity department at Harper. Saw the cover of The Urgency of Change, which has a dark blue and black background, full face of the Beaton head of Krishnaji. George Digby says Mary L. dislikes it. Not a photo I like, but thought the cover used it fairly well. Discussed TV and magazine interviews and articles with Krishnaji for the spring visit. They suggested David Frost, Dick Cavett, and Newman on today’s shows, also New York Times Sunday Edition and TIME Magazine. Went to the Town Hall and met the manager, Ms. Bean, who showed me around, and discussed details for Krishnaji. Lunched with Phyllis Lutyens. Bought a T. Anthony bag. Quiet evening. Typed the dictations. Telephoned June Gordon, who had told me there was a rumor among the Gurdjieff people who quote Alan Watts saying that “Krishnaji has died, and they are keeping it quiet.”’ [S chuckles.]

It goes on about family things. Hehhh. ‘Went to Asia House where I saw an exhibit of Asian statuary, including two Cambodian statues of a standing Maitreya.’ The rest is all family stuff. I’ll skip all this.

On the twenty-seventh, ‘I left Bud and Lisa after breakfast with seven bags checked, four in hand still.’ [Laughing].

S: You picked up another bag! [chuckling]

M: ‘Took TWA to Los Angeles, passing over Monument Valley, the snowy Rockies, and down into the dirty brown smog of Los Angeles. Amanda met me and we came to a burned, black Malibu. Filomena, looking strong and healthy and full of energy, rushed up the path. A Santa Ana’—that’s that wind, you know— ‘was blowing in the night and had destroyed the garden flowers and the pristine neatness she had achieved, but the inside of the house shone with white immaculate walls. She has painted the whole inside; ceilings, cupboards, shelves, everything. New blue and white curtains were up in Krishnaji’s room, made of the toile Anstee got for me and sent over. Outside the trees are brown. The eucalyptus may come back; I doubt the pine trees will. The fire went over the brick wall and burned all the oleanders right up to the house. I haven’t yet walked to see all the rest, but the canyon is a blackened void. Went at 5 p.m. to the Dunnes’ and sat for an hour and talked with them both. How good it is to be with them, to see Filomena, and be in this dear, beautiful, and surviving house.’

‘There was a letter from Rome written by Krishnaji each day. He had rested a lot and went to the movies. He says he might have more rest in the future. I must see to it. Oh, how willingly.’ [S laughs.]

S: Boy, that came really close, that fire.

M: Yes. That was part of the awfulness of Malibu, these fires that you could do nothing about. And then ironically, you know, Sam and I lost our original house to fire, but not one of these wildfires. So, there’s a pause here.

S: Good. Where do we pick up? We’ll stop now.

M: We’ll stop now.

S: But where do we pick up?

M: We pick up on Thursday, November third, 1970.

Editor’s note: A loose leaf of paper fell out of one of Mary’s diaries when I was checking on something. The paper is undated, so I have no way of knowing where to put in in the chronology of these memoirs. Nevertheless, it seems important to put the contents somewhere, as they appear to be direct quotes from Krishnaji. The four short quotes are as follows:

“ I woke up yesterday a.m. I don’t know how to describe it—I never had it in my life before. I had it all day. It is there now.”

“ A sense of tremendous brain power—not to do something—just pure brain power. I got a little nervous of it watching. Yes, it is indeed. Entirely different—never had it before.”

“Woke up with it.”

“Woke up and there it was. Then I got a little nervous—it was so strong, as though tremendous power was there—limitless, vast. I don’t know how to describe.”

<<Previous Issue | Next Issue>>

---

FOOTNOTES: