White lilies
                                                      A healing story


It must have been January ( 1997) when I began to feel tired. I didn't really bother me, for it was one of those times when, for some reason energy seemed less available.After a while I would certainly feel stronger and more centred in my strength. I did wonder though, why I found it so hard to be an inspiring teacher for my painting classes. Was I maybe doing the wrong job, was I just getting older, should I stop smoking? My husband Steven encouraged me to continue teaching, 'going through struggles' he said, doesn't necessarily mean you're not doing the right thing.

The building of our Rotterdam Subudhouse was nearly finished, and I wanted to make a big portrait of Bapak (founder of the spiritual path Subud =Susila, Budhi Dharma) to give as a present.For two months I painted the canvas over and over again, studied his features, and had many conversations with Bapak. His beautiful face made me cry, feel so happy and sad. The compassion in his features could almost give me a feeling of crisis, as if his soul was to big to come close to. But when I surrendered, and forgot about how to reach a fraction of his state, I found myself in very close friendship with this tremendous soul, enjoying the times of meeting Bapak when he was still alive. Still, painting remained a big struggle, because I wanted it to be perfect, and had constant discussions with myself, imagining all the judges other people could possibly have about my art. Finally I drew Bapak's portrait in ten minutes with charcoal on paper, and there he was, firm strong, compassionate, mysterious. During this period Bapak had been so close, he must have known that I was about to go through a long purification, and I had no idea I would meet with Bapak again soon.

When my fatigue increased, I had a flue and stayed in bed, comfortably surrendering to the rest my body needed, After a week of no feeling better, I began to feel uneasy. Spontaneously, without really having a question, I rang a clairvoyant named Johan who's number I had seen in a magazine. Strangely enough, we immediately jumped into a deep conversation, instead of making an appointment, Out of the blue he reffered to an abortion I'd had when I was fifteen. In the the first moments, I tried ignoring his comment, but soon felt something being taken away, like a woolen security blanket, leaving me in a cold light of truth, shivering, and then a whirlwind of emotions took control of me. 

I was astonished and irritated. Oh no, not again, this belongs to the past! Hadn't I had worked through this thoroughly enough already? Hadn't I gone through every molecule of that episode, alone, with friends and family, during my latihan's?But simultaneously, I knew I had to accept there was more to be purified and healed.This coming to the surface was an opening for growth.I took a deep breath. Johan asked me wether I knew my spiritual guide.

He proposed to ask his guide about mine. Curiously, I agreed and so he received  it was a woman with long hair,.. dressed like so and so.. Again I was overwhelmed, shivers and tears.I remembered her from a vision, a dream I once had, after the abortion. She was quite beautiful and loving, and wise, she represented perfect harmony.She was a secret woman, she knew everthing. She dind't speak, our communication was from soul to soul. She accepted me totally, and the imprint of appearance stayed with me for a long time. Her love comforted me and made me feel less desolate. But when I spoke of her to others, they claimed she was a fantasy, my idea of who I would like to be. A little embarrassed, I decided to forget about her, and the memory of her pre- rafaelistic beauty slowly faded away.

You see, said Johan, she was there to help you.... she's always around... and you have more guides! What's her name? and then he replied: the first name that comes to your mind" I stared suspiciously into the garden,and then, I saw written in neon letters, 'Amalia'. She was back again, she was real. Like a long lost friend I welcomed her back into my life. For the next few days, I called her name out loud whenever I was distressed, and asked her for help, for I had no idea how to live my daily ill life.

I often called her while taking a shower, and her response was to let me cry long long cries. Afterwards I felt like I'd done latihan, and through Amalia I felt God's guidence. Being ill was a wonderful opportunity to listen to Bapaks talks, and his gambang healing music, which gave me great comfort and peace. 

This music is mystical and not to be listened to just for fun my father told me, and indeed, I had tried it before and it did not appeal to me at all, but now it brought me in a state that is hard to describe. It was like when I painted Bapak, only now I wasn't able to work, want or even think. Bapak was there again, and he made music for me, it really felt that way. In a half awake half asleep latihan state, every vessel in me calmed down. I don't know what I learned, I would not have been able to translate it into words or even comprehend it with my mind, .. but my soul was accompanied by a  teacher with whom I travelled through unknown and timeless realms in a loving and wide landscape, soft moving in all kinds of directions and stretched movements. Slow motion, but faster then light.

One night, weeks passed already, the pain in my stomach was serious enough to call for a doctor. He was puzzled about the strange pains and decided it was probably an infection. He prescribed penicillin but I didn't take it. Somehow I was determined to do without it, didn't want to suppress my illness and I also didn't feel like taking penicillin for a 'probable cause'.. 

I turned to a homeopath for medicines and remedies, with positive results, less pain and calmer but still I was ill and feverish, had no idea how serious this all later would turn out to be. I concluded my illness was something I had to go through, a re- experiencing of the past with its deep stormy and revealing hidden emotions.That situation went on for weeks, I got weaker and weaker, losing kilos of weight, for everything I ate, resulted in cramps. I began feeling guilty towards Steven and the children, and continued cooking dinner for the family, went on shopping, and forced myself to take a daily walk. I even painted some large canvases so as not to give in to  my laziness, but at the end colours made me sick and the subject didn't make me feel better either. I was painting plants,  in greens and blues, with pink and white, .. nice you would think, good for you, good for healing, .. but it made my stomach turn, it was just too heavy stuff, .. sometimes when shopping I have this feeling of being overwhelmed by material forces, .. now I was overwhelmed by vegetable forces.

Now and then I felt death nearby, .Not dramatic as it sounds,  comparable to the transparant state I remember from  Ramadan I once did. Lower forces on low level, light as a feather, a soft sadness, sweet cosmic hugs. The material world was down below, and I glided through spaces wide and familiar, yet undiscovered, a homeland of angels, spirits and guides, an endless ocean filled with treasures, glimpses of the tremendous light surrounding.Wandering, wondering.

Still I was exhausted, and on Steven's insistence, I finally consulted another doctor, He thought it might be cancer and sent me to hospital immediately. There I did some tests and It would take some time to evaluate the examination result. Meantime I went home to pack my things, intuitively knowing I would be going back ( though not because of cancer I knew for shure).Waiting for the final phonecall, I walked in my garden, bidding goodbyes and making apologies to my vegetable friends. The clematis whos giant white buds were ready to burst open for the first time in four years. It seemed so ironic to leave the garden almost at it's climax which I had been waiting for, and working in for a long time. Sad but reassured by their radiant power and beauty, they could do without me for a while.The telephone rang, and I was invited for a two week period of clinical rest and a nice strong penicillin cocktail. The gynaecologist had diagnosed a huge abscess. No wonder my whole stomach was upset.Now I was rendered to the care of a medical team, I felt defeated, but relieved in a way. Laying on my white clean bed, I remembered with a shock, Johan asking me whether I needed to go to hospital soon. No! I'd said, and was very shure that he mixed his receiving about me with someone elses fate, and had quickly changed the subject. Weird! a perfect example of not hearing what you don't want to hear. Afterwards I recognized other signs and unconcious knowing, . like a computer drawing I made of a sick woman laying in bed comforting her son: this, months before I got ill. Yes I had seen myself in this situation many times on forhand, in flashes, in future vu's, but never considered they'd become real. Sleepless nights and hospital food were a good stimulance for panic, anger, fear and worry, the first days anyway. My friend Gerdina showed her big heart cooking and bringing in the most Divine soups and juices which made me feel immensly better, helping me to accept my new situation.Seven days past. The surgeon announced he would operate the next day though he'd rather wait untill my condition was better, but I had been with fever for over a month now and the penicillin's didn't seem to work good enough and he got really worried. I had decided from the beginning I didn't want penicillin, and this was apparently so strong that it didn't have effect on my body. But hearing about the operation for the next day (which I did'nt want either!) was shocking enough to let go of this resistance, .. I assume, don't really know but miracolously  the next day fever was gone and the operation postponed.

The attention and love my friends and family gave me was impressive and unforgettable. My condition made me experience everything so deeply and I feel very thankfull to everybody. Love is such an incredible healing power! The hospital room was filled with flowers, White lilies with sweet scent and soft energy. Closing my eyes, I fancied being in a blooming garden. Every now and then a light energy streamed into my body and filled me with joy. At times I couldn't supress laughter which probably made my roommates think I'd gone mad. One of them was a lonesome old lady she said ; 'oh well, I am in God's hands' which encouraged me and gave me great respect for her. Every now and then, I wasn't  that brave, and cried into my pillow, but then she would hush me "oh no, it's no use crying' and I wondered, whether I was crying to clean my sorrowfull heart, or simply marinating in self pitty... 

The old lady and I became close friends, when nurses had gone, I sneaked out of bed and helped her, combing her long white hair and reading aloud from her bible. A month later, she was still there in the same bed, still fully surrendered to God, and I hope she is with him now. In the two weeks I spent between the daily refreshed sheets, I met many part time working nurses, and many doctors, They are changing every hour it seems!I had had eight doctors! come on! Nice nurses, all with the common goal of nursing us back to health.

 One was a big mama, she was so cheerfull, and beautifull. She sang outloud in the corridor with a sparkling warm voice, which resonated in evereyones heart. She taught me.. And there was a funster. She could even make the sick old lady cry from laughter, half tumbling out of bed, .. she taught me too.When I was allowed to go home to regain strenght and with the surgery still to come, I hurried for treatments by a electro-accupuncturist. His office looked like a laboratory, and the speed of his speech had a similar mystery to it, but it felt right. His treatmenst, and homeopathic medicins and chinese herbs ( aswell as a vegetarian- sugarless meatless diet) gave me new energy and physical balance. It was so good to be back home! We were a reunited family enjoying early summer and delicious meals in our sunny flowery garden. Greek potatoes and salades, and lots of tempé fried in olive oil with garlic, shoyu and lemon my body seemed to need.


Part two


The clematis was now in full glory, twenty large flowers naughtily dominated the ivy on the fence. I was surrounded by a cloud of love. I prayed to God for help, for a miracle to happen. The idea of undergoing an oparation filled me with sadness and ofcourse also fear. Besides, it all felt so wrong, like it would hurt me, wound me physically and spiritually (I would lose my overy for sure, what about my womb?). Several people told me an absess sometimes shrinks and disappears by itself, but the doctors were sceptical and discourage this point of vieuw. However, they didn't decrease my way. Steven reminded me it would be also wise to prepare myself to the opposite, and be thankfull instead of cynical and suspicious of the allopathic doctors. 'That penicillin' he said, 'probably saved your life!' Well he made a point there, and indeed it felt better to let go, and surrender and trust in God knowing what's best.
I gladly joined the group to do latihan again, the first in month's and the first in the brand new Subudhall with it's heigh ceiling. Such a clean and calm atmosphere. I sat on the floor and had a wonderfull wide, strong latihan, not moving and chanting as usual but easy and silent. I felt so humble, so thankfull to God, how could I ever thought God wasn't there! It's only me who creates distance and seperation yielding to fear, creating disharmony. It's so hard to be aware of it all the time. All you have to do is surrender. It's so simple. This latihan again made me so thankfull for being able to practise it, for it is the practise of surrender. Every other latihan is different, always new and fresh. Each time is a chance to come closer, to surrender to your true self, to God. And I feel this really grows within time, gradually.
Experiences can be wild, bursting out, powerfull revelations or ineffable and quiet. You can suddenly become aware, see very clear, and know this is a big change in your life, but in fact it takes a long time to really change. What has been revealed, has to vibrate and find it's way through many levels. It starts from deep within, from where it can climbe up higher and higher, and again the latihan reminds me of constantly putting it into practise, to let it climb.
The soul gets stronger, and it's voice louder. Of course there must be the wish for growth and you must be ready to make a change, to let go. This is why Bapak advices us not to neglect our latihan, I think it's to keep this wish fresh. Thanks to the latihan I was pushed forwards to purify. Maybe if I had been able to surrender more deeply through the years, this illness would not have been necessery. If I had yielded less to my fears and had more confidence, but what's the use of ifs and buts? I feel this process was necessery , an opportunity to become aware of the need to pay more attention to myself, to really face what's going on in my inner life, not neglect my deeper feelings, and knowing. To experience God's power and understand a little more about surrender. To learn about the tremendous healingpower we all have within ourselves with which we can heal ourselves and eachother.... to fully live, to admit and accept who I am, the weakness and the beauty. This purification was about a bundle of hang-ups, wounds, fears, whatever it can be called that I had build up for years, maybe lifes. It would be hard to describe it exactly, for it was not only the abortion, but a very complex woven net of causes. With my inner I can see it very clear though. And for others it's not really important, that's not what I want to share in the first place, in this story. What I want to share  is how I dealt with it, how for me, it worked to have the latihan as my guide in what to do, whom to meet, my great support and comfort, the friend who's always there. It was a climactic cleansing in which I felt there was a big change, for which I needed thirty seven years of life and eighteen years of latihan. Yes of course, I have to bring it into practise, this change, and that's a  reciprocol battle between me and my soul-me.

Reading this almost makes me feel tired, but this growing, searching, looking for balance goes on and on. Illness is a signal. Now I have to look deeply into my eyes and ask how I really feel, how  am I leading my life, what's going on. I must accept this receiving, look at it, surrender instead of fighting. I could make me angry cause it takes away my precious time. I could neglect it and save it for another, later, saved up serious illness. It can give me the opportunity to go into a  depression. but I feel responsible now. Why does this happen to me? It is a question you often hear, and that's indeed what we should wonder, not in a way of feeling neglected or punished, and losing our faith in Great Spirit, but facing and accepting.
We had registered fro the world congres in Spokane, month's in advance, and the thought of missing it broke my heart. But after examining me again the doctor replied with the golden words "well, you feel good, your blood is ok. We can do surgery after your holiday' Operation postponed again! I almost ran into his arms to kiss his big face and caress his funny hair. Now I would have more time for healing myself and obviously I needed it. The last check before we left for the States, showed the abcess had shrunk a little. Of course the doktor didn't show any emotion, but I was very pleased and relieved. Finally I saw the benifit of all I had done.
The congress meant a lot to be and surely contributed in my healing: all the people, latihans together, performances theater, music events, inspiration from all over the world, gatherings and singing in the park, the mystical wind at the opening ceremony, the reunion of my large family (26 Sillems!) within the subud world family, and traveling through Washington state. Ow I love Amerika! ( even more so when the flightcompany asked us to take a different return flight which would last half an hour longer but in return got ninehundred guilders cash! tap tap tap tap tap... lalala) This all together is a document in my life. 
The farmacy in our American hotel room, and the occasional little energy breakdown, reminded me of my illness, but, most of the time, I forgot, and it was strange to go visit the hospital again when I returned home after several weeks. 

I remember being so calm inside. I knew it was all right, there was no exitement, no fear. The abcess had disappeared. The doctor smiled, A week later he wanted to examine again, .. and again. I think he could just not believe his eyes, but finally, with a big smile, he said he would never forget me. ( and he bought one of my paintings) To him this was an exeptional case that happens sometimes, a rear occasion. In the little time he could give me, I tried to find out what he really thought and felt, but I heard not much more then "we're not trained in this direction ". My family doctor gave a more extensive comment "there are few people willing to work this hard on their illness" At first he had been sceptical, but now he was curious, pleased and showed his respect.
I can't say what or who  healed me, for it's been a log process over a long period of time, about eight months.. with many healers involved. I see it as a whole, a holistic event in which everything had a place and meaning. Someone said: "Miracles happen, but you must still work hard on it" I believe this is very true, I worked hard, but I was blessed too, for I know there are also many people who work hard and do not recover. I do my prayers for them, and hopefully this story will stimulate them to hold on.


Thank you Steven for being my very best friend, for your patience and comfort.
And thank you Emmanual Aronie for your linguistic contribution.