Hi All, I’m listening to the final day of ABC FM Classical station’s four days of only women composers.
The Floods Northern NSW
Hi Friends, it’s been quite a ride here. The intentional community that I live on came through very well. Most of our houses are well above the new flood level. The creek that we have to cross to get in and out rose by over two metres for a day. It had risen half that two days before. When the second storm hit, the ground was so saturated that the water just rushed to lower ground and our region saw some devastating flooding and landslides. So far, only two mortalities in Byron Shiire that I have heard about. The community sprang into action to organise check ins and at least one rescue with the help of the SES. The phones and internet were down for several days, so, we had no idea what was happening up the valleys. People had to hike in. Bridges were out and roads torn up. House were under water around the region. In Lismore people were on the roofs of two story houses to wait for rescue. A 1.5 metre flash flood went through Mullumbimby as 4am. Many houses were inundated. Ballina had massive flooding. Murwillumbah had water over two metres high in the downtown. Roads north and south were closed off. No internet meant no eftpos or atms. Shops were cash only for several days. When I was able to get into town, the streets were being lined with furniture, beds, refrigerators, etc that would be going to the tip. The streets were also lined with trucks of people coming to lend a hand. The local Resiliant Byron organisation helped coordinate the many volunteers and people in need. The Mullum civic hall got so many donations that they had to tell people to check the white board out front before donating. A few days ago, an official said that so far 1100 homes in the region had been deemed uninhabitable. Don’t know what the final tally will be. We are living in a region, especially Byron and Tweed Shires that already had a housing crisis with people leaving because they were priced out of the market to buy or rent. What will happen to those families who now have no home to live in? The state and feds say stuff but when and how much they will help is a real question. The government was unprepared for this and slow to act. The local State Emergency Service was out right away but they were overwhelmed. In the first day, there were 6000 calls for help in the region. That did not count the people who couldn’t make a call. Just yesterday, the PM was talking about establishing a submarine base. He’ll spend billions on submarines but for the people…
Back to my situation. My house stayed high and dry. When I moved my tiny house onto my friend Ros’s share, I dug a trench diagonally above my house. I did it’s job as some of the run-off from the mountain at which we are at the base headed for my house. Still, the grass around my house had water sitting on top of it for a week before we had enough dry days for it to dry enough. Another storm was headed just north of us but it looks like we just got a little of the edge.
We did have one secondary dwelling unit get flooded. It is located beside a small branch of the main creek. It’s still standing but will need repairs and it’s contents will have to be replaced. Fortunately, it was just being prepared for new tenants, so, there wasn’t that to deal with.
We get spring water for the community from a spring on the other side of the mountain. The flooding of the creek below the spring and three landslides destroyed large sections of the polypipe that had been in place for almost 40 years. Six of us hike up to the spring and ran new polypipe where the old had been destroyed. We ran it on the slope high above the creek this time. It took us six hours and much of that we were traversing muddy slopes holding onto saplings and resting against tree trunks as we unspooled and connected the poly pipe high above the creek bed. We only had one injury with one member cutting himself. Otherwise, we all made it through unscathed. But SHATTERED. It took my body two days to start to feel somewhat normal. My thighs were aching for three days if I squatted. Still, it was a job well done. The flow is better than before because of the new route we used. And it was great to work together like that.
Wish us luck or whatever. This is an ongoing saga. I’ll update in a while when we see how things pan out. I hope you are all safe and well.
I send my heart out to the Ukranian people.
Great Grandkids I haven’t met yet because of the pandemic.
Skye Rose Miller is Born on the 6th of December 2019.
James Jett Miller is born on the 10th of November 2021.
I was scheduled to visit their home in Texas in 2019. It is now 2022 and I am now scheduled to visit in June of this year. Wish me luck.
Changing my Status
Dear Family and Friends,
I am writing to tell you that I am no longer a disciple of Osho. This is a recent decision although it was foreshadowed by something that I read maybe six months ago. I was reading “MY DANCE WITH A MADMAN” by Anand Subhuti . He was a long time close disciple of Osho. In the book was the following:
“Bhagwan wasn’t big on women staying the night. He loved being alone too much for that. He wasn’t much into foreplay, either. One woman told me, years later, that he spent a long time caressing her face, then indicated she should go into the next room and ‘get yourself ready,’ which included undressing and turning herself on. “My god,” I exclaimed. “He really was a lazy man!””
My reaction to the above was very different than Subhuti’s. I was shocked. I had heard a couple vague rumours about Osho having sex with his female disciples and thought that it made sense that if he had sex with a woman, then, it should be someone he is connected with. However, I assumed that the event would be one of mutual caring. This description was not that. It was the same as going to a prostitute. I was bewildered and didn’t know where to go with this.
Then, three months ago, on a private online forum, several women came forward to give first hand accounts of how Osho had used them for his self-gratification. Women who had thought that they had been called to his room for a spiritual meeting with their guru found themselves being told to do things for his sexual gratification. Let me be clear, there was no consideration for their feelings. One woman he just started fondling with his foot! The first reported instance was in the early 70’s when he was living in Mumbai. Perhaps some women knew what was coming and went to him as a groupie would to a rock star. Even if they knew what was coming, his actions were totally out of synch with the way he spoke in his discourses: “Remain with your beloved or your lover as if you have become one.” “Warmth, love, should be made a situation for two persons to melt into each other. That is why if there is no love, the sex act is a hurried act. You are using the other: the other is just a means.” From The Book of Secrets. pg. 468.
The decision for me to “drop sanyass” was immediate. However, the ramifications of that decision have taken more time to sort through. I found myself looking through different eyes at my time with Osho, his teaching and choices that I have made in my life. I consider him to be the most eloquent person that I have known. He drew from many spiritual traditions and people of wisdom. How much of what he said was from his own experience, I have less trust in now. Things that I had felt uncomfortable with and let slide because they seemed minor or I allowed to be explained away became clear as a part of certain patterns. There was much of value that I got from my time with Osho and there are aspects of his teachings that I now see as unhealthy or harmful. There is much more that I will write at a later date. I was already working on a book that tangentially involved my experiences with Osho which is being revised.
I have been using the name Kundan for 45 years now. There are many friends now and in the past who know me only by that name. It is a name that I like. So, for now, I will continue to use it. If you wish to call me by another name, I’m fine with that.
* 31August 2023
I decided that, in order to totally dissociate myself from Osho’s words and actions I would need to stop using the name “Kundan”. Though it has take some time to adjust to, (for my family and friends as well as myself), I am very happy to be called Jim again. It adds and additional feeling of freedom to what I experienced with my initial dissociation.
Also, the longer I look at Osho’s teachings from a distance, the more shocked I am by some of what he taught us. The first hand stories that I have been told by others continue to shake me.
Love, Jim
January 2020
Looking Back over the last year.
Skye Rose Miller is Born on the 6th of December 2019.
This lovely girl is my great grand daughter. I expect to meet her for the first time next July as she is in Texas and that is a ways away from my digs.
The Reality Trek
Hello Friends,
Back in September, I was able to postpone the story of my trek due to technical issues. I say “able” as there was also the feeling of being overwhelmed by how to describe this experience in a way that would be enjoyable to you all. It was only four days but those were very full unusual days. I have come to the point of publication at last. I have gone for a nice balance of words and photos.
Enjoy, Kundan
Himalayan Mountain Yatra 2012
When I first conceived this adventure, it was along the lines of what I later wrote in my invitation. I had this romantic vision of tramping through the mountains to our day’s destination and, after setting up camp, we trekkers finding comfortable spots with vistas to inspire for a long sitting meditation. My using the word ‘romantic’ should alert you to the fact that the actual yatra was a very different experience.
I had been enjoying a bit of excellent R&R at Orchard Hut for a week before my compatriots, Kerry and David arrived for our venture. Prakash had been saying that this was going to a ‘recon’ trek in preparation for other future treks. I was not inclined to take this attitude. I can now say that I have changed my mind. Using maps and photos, Prakash had proposed two alternative routes for our trek. At first, I leaned towards the one that would finish at a small high altitude lake. When it sank in that this route included six hours of completely uphill climbing on a steep ridge in one day, the light went on and we settled on the other route. David and Kerry went through it all with Prakash when they arrived and agreed to the proposed route. Two days at Rupili (a trekking hut that the Dhami’s had built on a 2200 metre high ridge. During the second day we would take a trek up to a higher ridge with great views. Third day, a shorter walk through forests to Khubi at 2800 metres. Overnight there and, then, to Sundarani at 2500 metres. The fifth day would be a walk along another high ridge and back to Sundarani. Sixth day a short trek down to meet the jeeps that would bring us back to the place where we walk up the hill to Orchard Hut. As Kerry’s last name is Sunderland, she liked the sound of Sunderani. When Prakash explained that ‘Sundar’ means beautiful and ‘Rani’ means queen, she liked it even more. So, that was the plan.
Day one arrived and we were all packed and ready to go. Then, there were forms to sign and valuables to be put in bags and taped up and signed to be kept securely for us by Prakash. Suddenly it was time to go!
Notice the hats we were wearing. Our Himachal Pradesh hats for the occasion. David’s was too small, mine was too big and Kerry’s was just right! (Lucky we didn’t run into Goldilocks along the way or she would have taken Kerry’s hat.) Kerry and I used ours in the evenings and were happy to have them. David had a flash hat that he had brought along for evenings. I must, at this time, fill you in on our qualifications for this trek. David is from the south island of NZ and has a lot of experience at mountain trekking. Kerry has done a lot of bushwalking in Australia which she loves. If you are familiar with the geography of Australia, you may remember that changes in altitude is not mentioned very often in most of the country. Myself, well I had done a lot of short two hour walks in the mountains surrounding Chichibu, Japan where I go to study my shakuhachi. The trails that I am accustomed to are mostly well maintained and wide. I was to discover a very different set of circumstances.
We were carrying daypacks. Here’s
what the porters were carrying!
We immediately headed upwards. We were to go from 1350 metres to 2200 metres in 9 kilometres that day. That’s 900 metres in 9 kilometres. That’s a ten to one ratio. I don’t know if that’s relevant to anything but it’s an interesting number. After a couple minutes of climbing, we came to an easy path that ran around the contours of the mountain. It was only maybe ten minutes before we were climbing for a short while coming out onto a road! This was surprise. Happily, we were on the road for only a few hundred metres. What happened in those few hundred metres is that Kundan made his first major mistake of the day. In the pictures, you will see that he is carrying a large blue daypack that was lent to him by the Dhamis as his ultralight daypack was too small to be carrying his flute and the few essentials that we carried for use while walking. One of these essentials was a water bottle that was sitting on the side of the pack. While on the stretch of road, we were in direct mid-day sun and Kundan does not do well in such conditions. He rapidly started to flush from the heat. When he reached for the bottle, he discovered that it would require stopping to take off one side of the pack to reach said bottle. Rather than stop for such an operation he kept going. Big mistake! Even though it was a short time in minutes before our next rest stop, Kundan was severely weakened. He rehydrated but this short interlude was to haunt him later. [Lesson 1- ease of access to water supply. I’ll be carrying a hydration bladder in future walks]
This first stop on our way was a very pleasant outlet for a spring and we all enjoyed the shade.
Next section was uphill and, though the trail was easy, the climb had our hero exhausted quickly. Our trek leader, Manu, noticed this elderly gentleman struggling up the path and made a stop very soon along the way at a family shrine with a lovely view. That was a fifteen minute stop and when we continued, the slowest in the group had rallied, was no longer ‘elderly’ and we made good progress to our lunch stop. One of many small shrines that we passed along the way.
Although we had risen in altitude a bit by lunchtime, we were still passing through villages and we could hear children at play in a school below us. We were to find people living year round for much of the way up the mountain.
It was during this first days climb that I began to realise that what I, a novice mountain climber, considered ‘moderate’ and what an experienced climber considered ‘moderate’ were two very different things.
As we moved in between and beyond the permanent homesteads and villages, we were on trails that were either animal tracks or small rivulets that had been carved out of the mountain side. When these were steep was when I began to notice how my body was not in shape for such an adventure. My left knee began to make itself known as uncomfortable when we moved up the more steep parts of the trails. To compensate, I began to depend on my right leg to lift me through the more difficult stretches. This helped but, in the long run, my right hip began to ache. I wish that I had some photos to show what the trail was like but I was putting every last ounce of my energy into taking one more step, and, one more step, etc. When we reached the lavish trekking hut, I fell onto my bed to the shouting of my body, “What have you been doing to me?!!!”.
Here’s the beautiful trekking ‘hut’ that was our abode for two nights.
Below is the wonderful bedroom that I fell into and enjoyed my first two nights of the trek. Such luxury.
As should be, the first day was the
most difficult.
In the following days, we experienced the grandeur of high ridges and the beauty of lush forests.
At times, we walked on trails that had changed because they were only animal tracks that get washed away and our guides had to find their way.
We saw nomad huts and settlements.
Our camping spots were near where kids were at play and everyday life continued despite the presence of these strange foreigners. Some of the nomads began moving down the mountain on our last day. The early leavers would travel by foot with their animals all the for hundreds of kilometres to their winter homes.
We pitched our tents in stunning locations.
We had a campfire that was very romantic except that the wind kept changing.
Then, it started raining.
Here’s Kerry with her moat and her throne.
We had a great time even though we returned a day early. Kerry, David and I got to know each other much more. We experienced our highs and our lows together. We laughed and we groaned together. And, we all three became very fond and admiring of Manu and the porters. It was a great adventure. Below you will find a few more random pics. My flickr page has a collection of photos called Yatra 2012. It’s a mix taken by all three of us.
Notes-
After the trek, I discovered how mountain dwellers go downhill. As usual, I learned it the hard way. One morning we found ourselves moving down a mountainside in the rain on a trail that previous rains had etched out of an animal track. Many places had a slick mud that meant some close calls for Kerry and myself. David was revelling. I noticed that while Kerry and I were slowly picking our way along making not always successful attempts to stay upright in the mud (“Ow. Damn, I got dirt under my nails!) , David and the porters were zipping ahead.
While the three of
us were in the latest gear, here is a photo of the kind of shoes that the porters were wearing.
A few days later, back at Orchard Hut, I went for an easy walk with some of the other guests. As we descended, there was a point where the trail went from the top to the bottom of a large boulder. There was a convenient notch half way down that we were able to use as a step to cautiously climb down. I was third in line and made it easily enough. Behind me was a woman from Switzerland. She just walked quickly down the side of the boulder! A light went on in my head. I began to watch the way the local boy who was leading us walked down the trail. He wasn’t ‘walking’ so much as skipping or bouncing down the hillside. His forward foot would just be pushing off from solid spots along the side of the trail. It was so fluid and effortless. I incorporated this method and was in heaven. Another lesson.
Prakash was correct in calling this a reconnoitre. If I were to do this trek again, now understanding the terrain and my own physical condition, I would make several changes to the routes. Mainly, I would make it an ‘easy’ trek rather than a ‘mod
erate’ trek. It would be possible and still have all of the really beautiful bits that we experienced plus the ridge walk that we didn’t get to do because of the rain.
The trekking in the mountains around Orchard Hut can offer many, many variations. While I was there, a couple who had been trekking in the Indian Himalayas since the 1960’s went off with a couple porters on a very full-on adventure into areas where foreigner’s are rarely seen.
As I’ve said before, just being at Orchard Hut is such a treat. To spend time in the beautiful natural setting that they have created on the mountain side and enjoy the company of the Dhami family is a very special treat. It is an excellent place for a bit of R and R.
As for my plans, the rest of 2013 will be a time of taking advantage of all the benefits of my home, Byron Shire. If I leave at all, it will only be a short trip to California. I need a good stretch of time being at home, doing the kinds of things that are difficult to do while travelling. As much as I love to travel, it is disruptive to routines. That is one of it’s virtues as well as one of it’s faults. It depends on what one needs. I’m ready to do the other for a while. I am back in Byron now, in the arms of my friends, the natural beauty and the great food. It was seven months away. So, take care all. I’ll still be writing to you. I have a special project that is taking shape and will be announced to the world before too long. I’ll keep in touch.
Cheers, Kundan
Springtime Arrives along with the Popepool
Arriving here at the end of winter has the great advantage of being able to get ecstatic about the first glimpse of spring while being knocked senseless for only few weeks by the bitter cold. It was so warm today, that I just had to go out for a nice bicycle ride and a hike up to the large park along the western ridges. The trees in blossom now are plums. The cherry blossoms are spectacular but not even budding. The plum blossoms announce the coming of warm weather and have special place in my heart.
Oh, about the popepool. The other day, I was outside moving gracefully through my tai chi form when I suddenly began coughing and gasping for air. It was The Smoke from the incinerating of the mechanics oily rags across the street. Sure enough, when I checked the news, they had elected a new pope. I was later to find out that my poor nephew had lost his entire life saving (I may be exaggerating a little) in the office pool to guess which name the new pope would change to. All of the news media have had to make a big thing about the selection of a new pope. Really doesn’t make a difference. It’s still the same old game. What’s important to me is that he didn’t choose to call himself Pope Kundan. Now, that would have been a worry. Would have had to change my name again.
Did I Mention It Snowed?
The last few times I arrived in Japan, I have felt a thrill at being back in this country. This time it was as the tires touched the tarmac. The earliest yet. I’m not sure what this thrill is about. I suspect it’s a mixture of being in an exotic place, which Japan will always be for me, and, returning to a place that I am so familiar with.
This trip, I arrived at Haneda Airport. It became a domestic only airport when Narita was built but in the last few years has begun taking international flights. I wish all my flights in and out of Tokyo were through Haneda. The immigration seemed to take a little longer but once through the gates, I was only 25 minutes from Ikebukuro Station by Airport Limousine Bus for only 1200 yen. This is so much much much much faster and cheaper than from Narita.
As usual, I dropped off my bigger bag at a delivery service. For less than $20.00 it would be delivered to my doorstep in Chichibu. The man told me that it would arrive in two days because it was going to snow the next day. He did not say that they “expected it to snow”, he said that “it was going to snow”. I liked his certainty in an uncertain world. On the bus going into the city, there was no sign of snow but I trusted him. As things would have it, I arrived too late at night to catch my train out to Chichibu, so, I had arranged to stay at Kimi Ryokan near Ikebukuro Station where I catch the train to Chichibu. It was nice budget accommodation. A 4 ½ mat room. (A tatami mat is approximately 1 x 2 mtres or yards. It was after midnight by the time I checked in, so, no bath only a shower. This was a great disappointment as the O-furo is one of my favourite Japanese experiences. My american made trailer does not have an O-furo. Ah, what so many people are missing.
So, as I was saying, the next morning, I was up and on my way to the train station. People had their umbrellas up to ward of the snow flakes but I just went without feeling my mustache freeze in the briskness of the air. The Red Arrow Limited Express to Chichibu. I’ve written of this train before. Reserved seats, coach class style with a conductor who bows and greets everyone when he enters the car. On outskirts of Tokyo, we began passing fields covered in snow and trees with branches with ribbons of white resting on them. I was really enjoying my nice warm seat on the inside of the window. I often read during the first part of the ride and start sightseeing once we start up the valley. This time, I just watched the whole way. Shortly after starting up the valley, we went through a long tunnel. As we came out, I was surprised by a landscape that was pure white. I felt a smile spread at the knowledge that this beauty was waiting for me.
So, that’s the snow. That was three weeks ago and it has only snowed once since then. That was a week after my arrival. Instead, it was bitterly cold. Nights got down to minus 8 C, 17 F. I was wearing my down jacket as one of five layers. The heater was getting a good workout. My sleeping bag hood came in handy to act as a warm cave to keep my head from freezing. Some days were better than others. The overcast days brought joy to my heart because it meant it would be warmer. Somehow, I survived.
Yes, friends, I have paid my dues and today, I began collecting them. It has been a warm sunny no wind day. 15 C, 59 F. Oh, the smile on my face as I walked around my neighbourhood. I was in only three layers. I went out shopping on my bike when I didn’t really need to buy anything. I took the long way to the market. An hour later, I just went out and rode around aimlessly until I remembered the antique shop that is way on the other side of town that I don’t usually go to because it’s so far.
Yes, life is beautiful!!!
The Storyteller Understands
That this moment is more fantastic than any story.
Revitalised in Paradise
So, I left you as I was arriving at the Baan Hom Samunphrai “The House of Sweet Smelling Herbs”. http://www.homprang.com/
The two founders and carers for this place are Homprang and Christopher. I fell in love with Homprang the moment I met her. Unfortunately for me, she is married to this great guy Christopher. The first thing she did when she heard of my recent ailment was fix me a herbal rice soup with a mug of herbal tea. I was given a room and rested until dinner which was delicious as are all the meals here. Just being here on this two acre property is a treat. Lawns and trees, a pond, and old wooden houses that they bought locally, took apart and reassembled to Christopher’s designs with common areas on the ground and sleeping above.
My room was upstairs in this building.

The Meditation Sala where I played my flute.
When I arrived, there was a class of four thai massage students in their last week. Three French and one American. (Classes are limited to eight students.) In my two weeks here, people have come and gone as students and as paying guests. We have our meals at a long table so that you get to see everyone as least at those times. We’re nine kms outside the centre of Chiang Mai, so, people don’t just drop in. Occasionally, someone will come all this way just for a massage. It’s worth it.

This photo is unfortunately blurred. Sorry. It does give you and idea of dinner time. Standing is Christopher. The second person in on the right side is Homprang. Lots of young women around me at that time. That pepped me up.
My first massage here was on my second day. It was a ‘two hour full body massage’. Well, it went for two and three quarters of an hour and was one of the best therapeutic massages I’ve had in my long career of enjoying what life has to offer. None of my massages here have been less than two and a half hours. The credo here is to keep going until the massage is done. Nit, the woman who has been my massage therapist is this thin little woman who is very strong with incredible endurance. The first three of my five massages were two days apart but I found that I needed an extra day between for my body to fully integrate the changes. My last two massages included being massaged with hot herbal compresses during the second half. Want to melt your bones? That’s the way.
I must remember to mention the herbal steam baths I have been relishing every evening. How am I going to get one of those into my backpack?

This is the plunge pool beneath the room where you receive massages. The door in the back leads into the steam bath.
I haven’t said much about Christopher and Homprang because there is so much to say about them and so much that can not be said about them. Homprang is this ball of energy and love who moves gracefully about with the ease of one who is in harmony with existence. She makes one smile in wonder. There is a brief bio at the bottom of the home page for their website. My next to last night I finally got Christopher to tell me how they met. He gave me her whole bio and it was a story that if you saw it in a film you wouldn’t believe it. Christopher is this soft spoken American poet who lived much of his life in Britian and is a wealth of fascinating knowledge about Thai culture and life. There’s a link to some of his poems and a brief bio on the homepage. The two of them join us all at the evening meal where we relax and wander in conversation. I am so happy to be one of their friends.
It only took me two days here to begin feeling sprightly again and every day since has been a day of increasing vitality. The last two weeks have been full of good company, loving care, transforming massages, delicious food and a peaceful environment.
If you are ever in Chiang Mai, visit this place. You will be happy you did.























