"Have you done Dynamic?" someone asked me once. She sounded a bit like a trendy matron at a cocktail party asking "Have you done the Himalayas" or "Have you done acid?"
"Oh yes," I replied, I was never big on revealing my ignorance, "it was wonderful!"
"What the hell is that?" I whispered, panic stricken, to the only sannyasins I'd ever met, standing next to me. I mean, I wasn't expecting a quiz on laundry detergents with names like Solvol, Action, Rinso and Dynamic, in a residential therapy group in a French vineyard.
"And how was it?" the questioner was like a dog with a bone. The big beads of perspiration on my forehead were ten times larger than those big beads of brightness in the last box of soap powder I'd seen.
The next morning, in my first Dynamic Meditation, the blue lights of brightness basted forth. So that was it – Dynamic, the detergent for the soul! Actually, I lasted three minutes into the first – chaotic breathing – stage, and then I sat down and started crying. Spiritual ethnic cleansing, you could call it. By the end of the meditation I think the only ones left standing were the three Germans in the group.
Afterwards, I curled up in my sleeping bag and howled like an abandoned puppy that finds himself 15 miles out of town on a dark night, in a large wet hessian bag. I didn't realize that in those three minutes the process of unleashing the subconscious had just begun. As far as I was concerned, if that was it, it was unbearable, too frightening for words and I was finished with Dynamic forever.
"Forever" lasted eighteen years, until a long group process called Fresh Beginnings. And fresh it was: up at five every morning, waiting in the snow for a bus to go to Dynamic Meditation is a very fresh beginning.
Strangely enough, after only two days I looked forward to that hour every day. It became magical, like the silence and the wondrous white light of the snow outside the meditation hall.
The half-acre building was packed with mediators. The roar of our suppressed rage in the second – cathartic – stage was deafening, but electric sand primordial. No stadium full of football fans could match it. It was one of the most uncomfortable mirrors I had encountered. But the more I allowed myself to ride on that tidal wave of energy, the more expanded and exhilarated I felt.
I became obsessed with the idea that the next door of my spiritual growth would open only if I jumped all the way through the third stage – the unbearable "Hoo's"! I'd never been much of a body person so I'd been able to justify lasting only 45 seconds of the ten minutes of jumping, with the mindset that I simply couldn't do it. But I resolved to keep jumping every day beyond the point where my mind would click on and say, "Okay, stop now. You're tired; your feet will get flatter, you'll hurt your back," etc etc....
Then one day something different happened: it was effortless.
All the struggle with my thoughts about stopping or not stopping had suddenly disappeared. I was simply watching myself jumping, propelled by an energy that my mind could not control. It was exhilarating. Tears of gratitude poured down my face. It is impossible to describe what I felt when Osho's voice said, "Stop!" to put an end to the jumping stage.
It was the first time in my life that I had actually come to terms with the fact that I had a body, and it was capable of dong things far beyond the limits I had placed on it. It was like throwing off mental chains I'd worn for lifetimes.
I did Dynamic off and on for months after that turning point. When I was into it, it was as if I were at the movies with a front-row ticket and I wasn't going to miss the show. Everything you can ever imagine: memories of my childhood back to the womb, past lives, births, deaths, rage, murder, joy, love, ecstasy, silence, colors, lights and a cavalcade of completely disconnected thoughts and image.... The beautiful thing was that the more I allowed, the wilder the images became. And the more outrageous they became, the more witnessing happened. The witnessing and the allowing became totally interlinked.
I've tried many things during my life, but I don't know anything that can give such an overall feeling of wellbeing and peaceful distance from the mind's hoopla. Swimming comes close. It felt like a silent outboard motor had been fitted to my inboard life.
Nine months of doing Dynamic every morning were among the most fantastic and intense times of my life. My days revolved around this meditation. I was completely amazed by the changes taking place in my body. After a few months it felt like every cell was alive; my skin began to glow. The heat of the hot season stopped bothering me. The shape of my legs and my posture improved. And, wait for it ladies, my bustline increased by four inches. The body changes were as fascinating as the relief from the mind.
But a word of warning: if you really want to experience your own ecstasy in this meditation, beware of the modifiers. Don't be fooled by those who tell you how to do Dynamic so it' s comfortable.
In my experience, it ain't about comfort; it is about witnessing whatever is there.
My mind can adapt anything to suit its limits. If I go for it as totally as I can and let the breathing take me over, the rest just follows. If the breathing takes me over, then the jumping does too. After five days the body is in great shape; comfort comes naturally. How you look and feel becomes all the map you need.
It's almost impossible not to sound like a born again Dynamic junkie. Maybe it's because it does exactly what Osho says it can do that makes it so mind blowing. You become the new car with every part humming and zinging along, with an ability to turn left or right at a moment's notice, and a driver named witness instead of witless.
Learning to change gears in each stage of the meditation when I was already totally blissed out in the stage before was like having a key to one of life's major secrets.
...Back for more articles
Copyright© Osho Times International