Chapter 8. Being Here Now

This is what I know about my health situation. The left lung [left pleura] has been drained three times. It doesn't give me any trouble now, but I seem to breathe now mostly with the right lung. On the last chest x-ray for the drainage, what the "medical monster" call "metastases" (another loaded word I never use) were apparent on my right ribs. Often I have a pain which restricts my breathing till I take a painkiller.

I have a swollen lymph node on the left groin which gives me pain. Sometimes the lumbar, and the area of the waist in the back are painful and stiff, making my walking very slow and exhausting. My left eye has a pocket of liquid on the retina, so I cannot see a thing with it. I had radiotherapy on it just before coming to Australia, which my oncologist said will give me back the use of my eye: NADA [Nothing].

Nine months ago I had shingles on the left arm, and the hand, thumb and index finger are still not in full use.

Following Sat's advice, I have made a medical will. [An Advance Directive or "living will", and an Enduring Guardianship.]

I have a nurse friend [Kumari]. We have agreed that only painkillers will be given, and no other medication, except perhaps antibiotics for cases of infection which look like they could be cured. I only want to go to hospital for emergencies such as a broken bone, or a situation where I have a fifty percent chance to recover. I will be brought back home ASAP, and I especially don't want to die in hospital.

I said to my friends, "I will probably stop eating naturally at the end, so never force any food on me. Simply make sure my intestines are clear, and just put me on liquid soups, herb teas and water".

The most difficult thing for me is to finally lose control of my life. I will have to let go of walking the path of pride. I still have some steps to go before I lose all control and all pride. I am ready to face my childhood patterns of unworthiness, which still arise in moments of intense pain.

Opening and softening, is John's guidance for all situations - I will do the best I can. The moment I fear most, is not the dying process, but the after death bonds of "purgatory", where the mind, the identification with the mind, has to be transcended.

Thursday, 26th April
Today, Susan is taking me to the beach - I have only gone once this year. My lung condition, filling up with liquid, and needing to be drained every few months, didn't make me feel attracted to be near water. But today, I want to see how the bright sunshine and the magnificent sea will be playing on my body. I also take Kusum along in order to have two arms to hold on to, and we have a marvellous time, baking in the sun, eating grapes, taking photographs. Raman and Kumari stopped by the beach for a few more photographs, and as we were ready to leave, two dolphins swam and jumped by us. What a blessed day.

Tonight Siobhan came over to say goodbye. She is going to England to get a new start on every level of her life, especially naturopathy. She gave me a final intuitive list of medical health supplements. She cried over my fairy tale story, and I watch over and over, friends visiting me, going into spontaneous crying - death goes straight to the heart in such a profound gentleness. But Siobhan also made my heart cry when she said, looking at a picture of John on my table, "If there is a place I want to go to, it is to see this man from Edmonton." Already, an email has come today saying Madoo is sitting at John's feet completely blissed out.

And I went to sleep with a heavy heart, asking John, my own heart, for guidance. Was it again the guru gently nagging me?

Friday, 27th April.
This morning Sat asks me to prepare my will. The word "will" sank deep into my guts to bring me back to the reality of the dying body, which I don't feel often - too busy happily reading, writing, having friends over, parking at the ocean - it is only with physical pain that I am brought back to the reality. This afternoon, the right ribs are sore, and keeping me from a full intake of breath - I lie in bed and gently dissolve into the presence. Later, when I am woken up by Sat's visit, half of the unease is gone.

I notice that when I am writing about my childhood, my back is slowly killing me, and I have to take a painkiller. Just like a few days ago, when Kusum brought me crayons and a pad, and said "Samadhi, I want you to draw yourself." So I thought of it, and decided to draw a picture of the best me, my spirit flying high - and the worst me, engulfed in the pain-body. As soon as I started to draw it, pain annihilated me, and it took me two hours to come back to my senses.

In the midst of it, Sat came with some forms to fill in, and I couldn't put one word beside another without his help. So now I am lying in bed with a feeling of two big hands each side of my hips, cracking them open into two, like a piece of bread.

Sunday, 29th April.
Last night, I went to bed at 6:30, drained from the whole day of pain. I usually have night sweat along my spine, but this night was the worst ever, and I wake up with the decision to handle the pain better. I try to take the minimum painkiller, but what is worse - painkiller with its side effects, or no painkiller and no life. A monsoon rain was pouring down the whole night, and the pain of yesterday could be the result of this weather change.

Today is my Sunday lunch ritual with Sat. We decide to do it at his place so I can send email as well. To make sure my back is holding me, I take a double dose of painkillers, but already by lunch time the pain is back, so again more painkillers, and I was able to have the loveliest afternoon with Sat.

Coming back in at 5:50, again the same pain. Kusum is on the phone, and I share with her my dilemma - either to go to bed now with my night painkiller, or to take another one to have a human evening. She just nursed her mother to her death with cancer, four months ago, and unhesitatingly encouraged me to not suffer uselessly, so I had today 20 mg of morphine, the most ever. Slowly the pain is receding, and the spirit is spreading its wings again.

Tuesday, 1st May
I really have a taste for what bone cancer is all about.

I woke up with pain from ribs to bottom. The weather is cloudy and humid, which increases my unease. My ribs are aching at each breath and each movement. Already, yesterday, after I went to shopping with Sat, I couldn't do anything more for the day. A small fever was surrounding me. I had a bath to end the day, and went to bed. Kusum visited, bringing a breath of love to my heart, and I passed out for the rest of the day, till I woke up to make a broccoli miso soup which I enjoyed fully.

Took my night painkiller, and off to the night - I had a strong back sweat where I had to change my clothes. Because I took my night painkiller very early, it had worn off by 6 am when I woke up. To still feel its effects in the morning, I have to take it around 9 pm. So today, a slight depression is filling my mind, the thought of having to live with this pain to the end, with only one prospect, that it will only get worse.

Thursday, 3rd May
Before I could see it, I felt it in my bones - the weather was sunny. -I decided to go and sit in the sunshine for a while, in the front of the main house with the ocean view, and I enjoyed the social comings and goings. I went to lie on the lawn, flat on my back, then on my belly, something I hardly ever do because it makes me cough. I was fine, and I toasted like a lizard. When I sleep at night, I lie on my back at a 45o angle - this is the only position I can sustain.

I came back home, and Kumari had made a delicious ostrich soup, and had bought me a pair of warm boots for winter - a perfect day in paradise.

Starting tomorrow, I am going to write a daily "medical report", so Kumari can be informed of all the changes and quantity of painkiller intake - it feels good to do, as my short term memory is very bad, and I make no effort to hold it.

Today was the day I was supposed to fly back to France - instead I am Flying Home. Hallelujah.

Friday, 4th May
I woke up with a tickle in my throat. After my chai, Sat took me to Byron shopping - Seeing everyone around is catching a cold, he didn't want me to go out, but the sun was shining and I felt up to it.

My appetite slows down during the day, and I drink lemon water only. Prema comes to get her birthday present. I told her I was also giving her my death present now, a beautiful Tibetan dragon hanging cloth - she started to cry, and we bathed in the love surrounding us. I felt better as the day went on, and enjoyed my ostrich soup at night very much.

Last night, already the moon was lighting up the bush in the front of the window. I couldn't sleep and wrote a homage to Lord Buddha's birthday:

Lord of the Full Moon
~ Blessed Birth ~
Your gift is to take everything away from us
Your music is your humming of the unstruck sound of Being
Your painting is the Vast Expanse
And your message: All this is hidden in our innermost - Dive in.
Your light of peace and compassion is shining bright on this planet
Blessed One.

This is Buddha Purnima - Saturday, 5th May
Sat brought me this morning a computer so I can type this journal, and a small tray table to eat in bed - so practical. I feel like a queen. I watch my life taking shape in a beautiful simplicity, a daily effortlessness. The body is dying and I have never been so well organised, day by day and moment to moment. I even get into this old song: "So little time and so much to do!".

This morning the lower back pain got the best of me. A sharp pain in the left groin where I have a constant swollen lymph node, and a weakness which would not allow me to go anywhere. After lunch I just passed out on the bed, and on waking up, strength had come back. Prema arrived with a beautiful fleece suit as a present. I felt so cared for. We are old friends, and this last episode is bringing us very close in our hearts.

Sunday, 6th May.
I wear my new fleece suit to go to Sat's for lunch. I made a salmon quiche. We had a lovely afternoon. Coming back, a feeling of enough for today, and I turned off the lights for a while to sit with Being.

At 6 pm I called my mother. It's Mother's Day today in Australia, but not in France. I had not spoken nor written to her since leaving France in November.

I tell her I am not coming back to France anymore, describe my plight and condition, and gather the courage to ask her the most delicate question I had wanted to ask her all my life, to write to me and tell me about what she remembers of my father. To this day I know nothing about him, or so little. It has been a deep wounded emptiness in that place in my heart where he resides. She agreed, and I am waiting with the heart of the little wounded girl to hear about him. My family is a totally non-communicative type, with painful secrets, I sense, passed on from one generation to the other. I won't leave any stone unturned if I can.

Tuesday, 8th May.
I wake up in the middle of a nightmare, in which I am holding myself and a little child from falling off a roof. I am hearing myself moan while waking up, plus a body pain from neck to bottom, especially the right arm which threw me into tears. I stumble to make tea and put the heat on, take a double dose of morphine, and swear not to move out of bed until the pain has gone.

When Sat comes, he has brought veggie juice, and great news for me. He has talked to Aparimit about my moving into the studio he is building - Aparimit is happy about it. I cry at the news. There had been a small concern in my heart about it. Sat also has booked an appointment for me with a woman oncologist on the 24th May. I am glad to be able to talk with a professional about my state and it's evolution.

I am already enjoying typing my journal on the computer.

A neighbour comes to visit, we have a cup of tea, and he tells Lucknow stories. Soon I feel more and more sick and nauseous. I have to get out of this situation. I excuse myself, pretending to have to go to the bathroom. As soon as he is gone, I burn some incense, go back to the computer, and I am fine again. It happens - some people give me a headache, this time it was very strong. Since the very beginning of my disease, my heart has been clear at differentiating between the giver and the taker. I feel drained instantly by the second type, and I have no way to protect myself.

Wednesday, 9th May.
The big deception of the day - the computer refuses to work, and I get a pain in the left groin shooting to the knee and down the leg. I jump into bed with a double dose of morphine. Sat is nursing me with his love, and soon my appetite comes, and I devour a pizza Susan has brought earlier. The pain slowly becomes tolerable again, but I cancel going to the Wednesday communal dinner in the main house, and just sit in my bed, cosily and peacefully.

Every time a new pain stronger than ever comes, fear sneaks in, and I think, "This is going to stay, and only get worse". I do forget to "open up and soften".

Thursday, 10th May.
The groin pain is gone, but the lower back is so painful, I just go back to sleep for the whole morning. At twelve I take a double dose of painkillers, go back to sleep, and finally in mid-afternoon I can walk again. I go to Sat's house to watch videos, and we have a lovely late evening with a cream of mushroom soup.

Friday, 11th May.
Almost before getting up, I can tell the pain is worse than ever on the left side. I take 10 mg of morphine and stay in bed. Not quite feeling like getting up for a cup of tea, wishing Kusum would come. Finally I get up to put on some warm clothes and put the heater on. Kusum arrives - she helps me to make my tea, and I slide back to bed.

I go to have a bath, with great difficulty getting in and out and dressing. I have decided anyway, to have a [?] day at the main house. Kusum makes me take another painkiller - no effect. I cannot sit, or get up from sitting, without shooting pains. But I get lots of help, and we have fun looking at the sea - Saroja warms me the delicious risotto she made for the community dinner, and I enjoy it. Avikal cuts my walking stick to a good height, and I come back home with much warmth in my heart.

I take again 10 mg of morphine to finish the evening, I have never taken so much. I am experimenting with this new sharp pain which nothing seems to touch. Gyan is seeing me going down very fast, but I still have a little hope that "this too will pass".

Kusum comes with a walking frame, so that I can get up easier The walking frame is a huge monster. I don't even know how much it weighs, but at this stage there is no way I am going to push this thing in front of me. I got very honest about it, wished they had asked me about how I feel about it. It is true that I have a difficult time getting up from sitting to standing. Tonight I tried with the help of a chair and my cane to walk around. The walking frame felt like a push into a state of immobility which I can't see yet. So I said to Kusum to put the monster outside. I would try it tomorrow, and anyhow if I was going to use one, it would be a light, small frame. Kusum was hurt - I had already processed the event, and asked her if she could see it as a big joke. I also asked for all 'medical accessories' to be discussed beforehand, at least as long as I am able to make choices.

Saturday, 12th May.
Today, I feel the arrogance of last night concerning the walker. I had not emptied my potty last night so it was full, and I could not even lift it from the floor to the table. I finally pushed it with my foot onto the verandah, and the walker was very useful for picking it up, emptying it and coming back. So I managed. But what an effort, just for emptying a potty. My pride and independence have to go here. I need to ask for help next time.

I got very depressed at the degradations of my capacities. Of course when I am in bed not moving, all is well, but what is the point of staying alive, if one is dependant on loving friends giving their time in doing such non-pleasant things for me. What is the point if I cannot give back this love - I don't think I can handle this imbalance. It is like a relationship on the rocks - we stay in it when there is at least fifty percent of positive in it, and when we see that the negative is gone way past the fifty percent, it is time to say goodbye.

I feel the same now. When I am happy, we are sharing a loving time together, like when Susan comes and cleans my room, there is an exchange. But when I will see that is it just work, and I won't even be there to give love, because I am going through my "misery[?]", what is the point? - isn't it time to "leave"? If I was an Inuit, my tribe would have put me to die in the snow a long time ago; or if an American Indian, I will be put on a stretcher, way up for the birds to snip at me. The old pattern, "I don't deserve to live" is acting strongly.

I feel in my mind lots of questions springing up, not formulated yet, about these new steps into incapacity. I have doubled the dose of painkiller, the pain is just the same, and my mind is cloudy and sleepy. I don't want to be in this state, it misses entirely the purpose.

Sunday, 13th May.
Sat arrives early to take me out of my little leftover depression of yesterday. I went back to 5 mg morphine, had no sleepiness, felt very joyous the whole day, with Prema visiting, in spite of a growing pain in the middle of the spine, unbearable when triggered on the lower left back. So I stay in and rest, immobilised in my bed, with so much pain. And yet, a victory, a solid shell of happiness, melting out this pain body. I had a bath, when Kusum intuitively came to help. I could not have managed without her - angels are always here when they are needed.

Please God, let me stay sane and human.

Monday, 14th May.
I had a GP appointment scheduled for today, and I wanted to combine it with a lunch with Niti. Just sitting up to put my clothes on was such an ordeal. When Kumari came to pick me up, it was clear that going out was out of the question. The pain was so sharp in the heart centre, I could not breathe sitting up. So I relaxed back in bed, and in one hour she had arranged a full pain control program.

The pain in the heart centre is such that every emotion is instantly poured out in tears or laughter. I feel totally joyful underneath the up and down of the pain. My world has reduced considerably. I can still pee in the potty near the bed. I didn't need to try to go to the kitchen, but I want to make it, just for the movement the body needs. Everything I need has to be near at hand, as I cannot even stretch my arms anymore. I am in a near sitting position, and the pain is right there, ready to shoot. The worst is about going to the toilet - I must be constipated since Saturday middle of the night, and this pain in the chest makes me hold back.

Tuesday, 15th May.
I knew the most important thing was to get a commode. If I was going to go to the bathroom, I couldn't imagine walking to the toilet. So I didn't eat until the commode came at midday. Then I took some prune juice ready to LET GO!

Yesterday I was so lucky I didn't have to walk in the room at all, as someone was always here for food, for turning off the lights and heater - like magic, everything happened around my painful body. Sat had set up the new computer, and I had to test myself to walk from the bed to the desk. Twenty very painful steps, then I tucked myself in the chair. I enjoyed sending emails and typing my journal - the pain in the spine was there, but the joy of typing was helping it.

Then Kumari came with the magic potion - liquid morphine. Instantly half of the pain went, I was in heaven. Finally something that worked! Last night she had me take a high dose of morphine before going to bed. I couldn't sleep, I was even getting very nervous. Finally I took my regular light pill and could sleep soundly. I feel a little victory over the pain, so grateful I can use the computer again.

Wednesday, 16th May.
Took many laxatives, but no results. I had the commode by the bed - in the morning I tried it, just pain, pain, pain. I went back to bed, not willing to move again until the painkillers have some effect. No computer today - too many things happening, and some papers to sign with a solicitor. Susan changed my bed and lifted me for a sitting wash, and cleaned the room. I can only be involved with one thing at a time, and very slowly. I stayed in bed in spite of the beautiful weather. At four pm today, all my helpers/lovers are coming for a tea party.

Kumari is doing great with my pain control set-up, but it is not yet fully together. I feel some relief, mostly in the afternoon when all the medication I have taken is working. I haven't cooked for myself these last few days - food seems to come, right time, right quantity. I am less and less in control of my life, yet order is there.

My constipation still has to do with the unsettlement of the pain control, so I am taking everything I can to facilitate, and yet I feel inside still a holding back, from the fear of the pain.

Thursday, 17th May.
I wake up and swallow immediately the prescribed painkillers and wait in bed. I am feeling great. Kusum comes for morning tea, then Susan, and we have a family and girly hello. The palliative care nurses come, they are of great help. I feel more and more professional support coming from the community in my own way of finding the direction I am going. It is clear that I want only painkillers, and no other medication, so I can remain as conscious as possible until the end. The nurses were very supportive of it.

I spent the whole day typing on the computer. Old friends from the Lucknow days are starting to find out about my fate, and are calling me, by surprise. It is very warming to the heart, and I have so much joy to share with them. They are very surprised by my high spirits. Yes, when the pain is well controlled, like today, I am in bliss.

Friday, 18th May.
One of the most depressing days , a dive into the "tunnel of death". My intestinal tract is blocked. I have nausea as soon as I try to swallow a painkiller. I am trying to follow the pain control program the nurses have prepared, but my body is totally uncooperative. I feel split between following their advice, and listening to my body. Finally I opt for the second, which meant dropping the whole pain control program for the evening. As soon as the decision is taken I feel better, nausea diminishes and I wake up fresh and ready to discuss the situation with Kumari. She let me have my way, especially as the spine pain has disappeared, just the sacral pain is very strong.

To top the day I had the visit of a community nurse who was supposed to give me an enema. As soon as she walked in, I knew she and I wouldn't see each other more than today. She couldn't look at me in the eyes. She kept looking at my room - maybe too many guru's hanging round. I felt her judgmental vibe all over, and the questionnaire she had me to answer to was a joke for a terminally ill person, e.g. "What are your goals?" I just looked at her astonished - here I am barely moving from my bed for a week, and I am supposed to have goals. Sometimes, the human blindness has no limits. Being immobilised and surrendering to a life situation which is taking away more and more of my controlling tendencies, an instant sensitivity is there when someone is in front of me. I come with my open heart - if there is no response on this level, and the person is in her head, far away, then all connection is lost.

Saturday, 19th May.
Woke up very peacefully, lots of lovely visits. Arupa came with lunch, and gave me a 'hands-on' session which threw me into Being. I didn't want to come out. Also, a visit of a new nurse, and just to play a joke on me she said "I know Gondwana, I come here to do belly dancing with Siddhika". I looked at her with beaming eyes, at last someone from the family.

Sunday, 20th May.
A sore throat since 3 am. I cancelled my lunch date, and the bath date with Niti who was going to help me to have a weekly bath.

Monday, 21st May.
The body feels the best since I last walked to the computer. Have a lovely day typing, then Arupa comes and makes me a great veggie lunch. And finally I have the BM [bowel motion] I have been waiting for, for such a long time.

I have long talk with Gyan who had cared for a dying friend, and I can see myself not quite realising that it is my turn. When I feel good, it's hard to imagine I am going. Only when the body is falling into a new level of pain or incapacity and I am reestablishing myself in a state of acceptance, then I can see the let go. I have to do it again and again.

Wednesday, 23rd May.
For two days I haven't written my journal. I am incapable of remembering anything from Tuesday. My short-term memory seems to be worsening. I am starting to find some similarities with my cave confinement [in France in 1969], and what I call now, this ready-made retreat.

Friday, 25th May.
For two weeks now, I have not gone out of my room. Today with the beautiful sunshine pouring through my window, the desire came to drive to the main house and sit in front of the sea view I miss so much. But the pull to type my journal is stronger. I want to stay up-to-date with what I have written, and see what it looks like. I would like it to be a book for my friends to read, and for the public, if there is something they can be interested to read in it. I always feel so good when I can write or type - it takes me away from the reality of my physical condition.

Gyan was here, and reminded me that my body may not last for long - a few weeks or a few months. I shared with him my 'deadline' - Christmas. So I could see John de Ruiter on his visit here on my birthday, and because some of my French friends have promised to come in the Australian summer, and I want to hang on to see them. But isn't all this to camouflage a fear of the unknown in front of me, a subtle form of denial? I am not sure - I am organising my funeral as if for someone else! Is it a form of escape? It is hard for me to feel death when I am feeling so happy from morning to evening, surrounded by all these loving friends.

Saturday, 26th May.
I made it to the main house, although the body is weaker than two weeks ago. Not leaving my bed, I now need help from a person on each side to walk. The pain is much less, just weakness in the legs and feet. Dinesh made me a delicious lunch of steamed veggies, and we sat by the sea view and had a lovely time.

I watch how life is simple when reduced to the here and now, in total acceptance. What I am most amazed at, is that all my simple wishes get fulfilled in a natural flow of harmony. The people around me seem to be totally in tune with me. I had a lovely bath, we put a mattress inside it so that I could sit without my bones aching on the hard tub. Again I feel like a queen, I am so blissed out.

Wednesday, 30th May
A few days of no journal, but feeling no pain until yesterday. I had just received a new walking frame and was enjoying using it, maybe to try to make lunch by myself, when a shooting pain as I was sitting up to go to the commode, just threw me back in bed. I took some liquid morphine and sank in the bed for a consoling nap. Today the pain is still here. I didn't dare try to walk, just stayed in bed and Susan brought me her video player, and we are going to watch a John de Ruiter video, I hope.

Today I had an interesting visit from a woman who is a psychic. I do not have preconceived beliefs in that field - she encouraged me to write, and calmed my recurrent fears of the after death evolution of my soul towards the light. I also shared with her, about my nightmares which are appearing at night and wake me up breathless and moaning.

She suggested I connect with my guardian angel, so I will give it a try, since the nights are long and not as blissful as the days, although I love the aloneness.

Wednesday, 6th June
At last I come back after eleven days of blackout. What cause to give to my total blackout!!! Drowsiness which threw me into a continual sleep day and night, except for a wakeup from 4 pm to 6 or 7 pm for food. Back to sleep. I got so frustrated, depressed, I decided after a few days of that, to reduce the morphine intake, which my body was telling me was too much. Immediate improvement happened. Drowsiness slowly receded. I could relate to people. What happened during drowsiness, was that I couldn't focus my two eyes on anything, whether it was talking with people, writing, reading, or any activity necessitating the two eyes. I would fall asleep, and if I closed my eyes voluntarily I would be gone immediately.

The weakness in the body, particularly on the hips, is such that I cannot walk without the help of one person on each side as my support. So I got a new walking frame which I have never used, because the same day I lost the strength in my legs. So now I have a wheelchair which I enjoy "driving" round the room, and a sense of independence. Now I am harassing Sat for an electric wheelchair for more independence. He seems reticent! And as stubborn as me. I drop it, but ask my angels to give him a little push.

In those gloomy days, Sat told me that Avikal was going to make the coffin. I was so touched to have a "love made coffin", so love will take me all the way. Kumari had already planned on painting on it, and now everyone wants to write on it. What a sweet idea!!!

When I am feeling lousy and without strength, yes, it is easy to see the end coming. But when my mind comes back and allows me to write, then I feel quite optimistic. Today I have to say the wheelchair gave me a lot of hope, but do we live on hope at my stage? Time has taken a very new elasticity. I am always coming back to a perfect present of surrender, where the choice of activities is always topped by closing the shop and going to sleep if any tiredness appears. And, sincerely, I have no preference, as the background of this mind is always contentment and let go.

I have the perfect robe to wear in the coffin, a robe I wore as an usher in Osho Samadhi, the time Osho left his body, and many visitors would pass through the magnificent mausoleum prepared for him. Now we do not find this robe in France, so I may have to let it go.

Friday, 8th June
Slept the whole day, not out of drowsiness, but because I have discovered a new rhythm. I sleep during the day and do my writing at night, very convenient because no visitors. Today, I noticed a much lower strength, where I can barely put myself sitting on the commode. I became very depressed. And I considered new ways to come back to a better control of the body. A hospital bed? I also noticed that my muscles were making hollows instead of nice bumps. It gave the idea of how my body weight, my memory, my mind in general won't hold together much any more.

Sunday, 17th June.
I have not been writing for days. Today a new will to live, which I trust very much, and in which I am going to inquire with my friend Niti, starting tomorrow. It just upsurged from my memory in the ego, and I have to do it. It is going to be hard - I don't know how I am going to do it, but it is my last try.

I am now without strength. I am very close to death. My last game, let me play it God, I am a gambler, I am living in this rhythm without day, without night. Just a little nap here and there. Kumari is painting my coffin, next I will, then anyone who feels like it.

Tuesday, 19th June
This night feels distressful, the pain in the neck which made my sitting up even more difficult, then I couldn't find my night morphine because I couldn't move anymore my neck from left to right. Then my water bottle fell two times in the bed. I really felt I had lost coordination. I woke up with a feeling to go right back to bed. Kusum understood it right away and disappeared. I had a whole morning of sleep where I gained back again my strength for the Bhajans tonight.

So yesterday I had a session with Indivar, which I had dreaded. I was so touched by Indivar, swimming in Being, speaking from Being. I share with him about my apprehension to stay relaxed and happy until the end. He gave me a beautiful simple technique, to go on saying yes, as long as I have awareness. We practiced it together, his presence was very soothing, I felt in oneness with everything around him, and when he spoke it was Osho. I felt totally at peace for the future.

Today, a feeling of perfection, in and out. I still have too much of enjoyment to choose from. Too many beautiful audio tapes to listen to, too much journal to get into, too much email to connect with. It is still all part of my enjoyment. Should I slow down, or should I go on in my rhythm of more and more? - (Bad habit). When I slow down, it is still enjoyment, and all this drops away when I am in Being. How ephemeral. My senses are still holding the central stage when they can, but how illusory.

Arupa is coming to make my favourite childhood dish, mashed potatoes. - it is pure bliss to be waiting for the treat. I have to say it is a pure treat to have Arupa here.

Isaac [Shapiro] dropped by, and he brought out my sense of enjoyment, how I go from one enjoyment today to another. I would say I am in bliss the whole day, except when I feel a slight pain somewhere in the body, like the coccyx or going to the commode. But it is so minute that I can't even mention it.

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