G L O W I N T E R N A T I O N A L
BILI EATON'S stories of life with Meher Baba are full of surprises narrated with a rare sense of humour. Here is a treat
I met Meher Baba in 1952, but long before that I was a skeptic and an atheist, which, of course, go together. I was brought up in the Episcopalian Church, but I left it at the age of 13 after I was confirmed, and had a fight with my father because I wouldn't go to church, didn't believe in it, and I was very much against religion of all kinds.
I became an Arthur Murray dancing teacher about 1941 and was having a good time there; going to parties and nightclubs, drinking, dancing, smoking doing everything. I thought the world was to have fun in as long as you lived. But while I was there, I met a girl who was a Catholic and she coaxed me in going to her church. And I did, because I was developing a sort of a curiosity about why so many people are interested in all these different religions. There must be something, I thought. So I went to the Catholic church. Every Sunday I went to mass, I made novenas; for about a year. I finally gave up. ItŐs got something, but it's not enough. I went back to my own church for another year, investigated that still not enough, it was the same thing.
Bili Eaton in New York, Her first meeting with Meher Baba was in 1952.
I met my future husband at Arthur Murrays, he was a pupil of mine. I trained him and he became a teacher there. One day a strike at Arthur Murray's and we were all out on the streets. There happened to be a studio very close by, a dance studio called Maya Bolin Studio. We went to this studio and rented space so we could teach our pupils and be able to sustain ourselves while the strike was on. The studio wasn't doing very well, we didn't know it at the time. That's why they accepted us, for the rental money that we gave them.
That was fine and that went on fora while. The studio had a board of directors, and Andy who was the accountant there I knew that Maya and Andy were interested in some kind of religious something or other, but, knowing how I felt about religion, they just never brought it up. One day I was in the office of the studio and saw a book lying on the desk. It was called The Edinburgh Lectures on Mental Science by Judge Troward. He had been a judge in India for many years and probably picked up some of the Eastern lore. But I thought it was a scientific system of some kind. This was the part that interested me, not the religious side of it. The book revealed to me that there was a way that one could run one's life and be healthy, wealthy and wise, if one just used the grey matter a little bit, what we used to call treating in those days. I asked Maya if I could borrow the book. I read the book. And it was a like a new world opening to me. I could have anything I wanted just by doing the right things with my mind. I could control everything. No God in this, mind you, it was just what I could do for myself. So I read everything I could get my hands on about it. I also took a college course in religious science for a degree and a diploma saying I could hang out a shingle and heal people. I never used it because deep down I couldnŐt accept it. I could do little things with it, cure a headache by treating, but why not take an aspirin after all?
So I thought this is not right, this is not what I want. Before this I had read a book, Human Destiny by Le Conte, who said, through mathematical calculations he proved satisfactorily to me that a higher force exists that created the universe. Things didn't happen by accident; that was, in short, what he was saying. Things happen by design. By this time I was beginning to accept the idea that maybe there was a purpose in the universe. That was the state of mind I was in at the time I went up to Lake Winnepesaukee, New Hampshire. Maya and Andy used to go up there every year, where the Council of Churches used to meet. They believed in religious science and their objective was to bring New Thought as it was called then to all the churches of the United States. Maya asked me, Would you like to come? I said, Yes, why not? I was all agog like all new converts are. And I went. One day on the beach by the lake, I saw a girl sitting off in the distance and, to this day, I can remember the tremendous attraction I had to that girl, and she told me later that she felt it, too. It was like a magnet pulling us. What it was, I don't know, but we had to talk. She had been in New Thought for some time and we discussed the lack of enough power. She said, 'You know, thereŐs something lacking in what we're doing. We have to generate more power to be able to accomplish the thing we want with our minds.
I said, I agree with you. Things are not working out quite the way we expected, the way we were promised.
Since we both lived in New York she said, 'I have an apartment in New York and I happen to know a man who has a lot of friends. He used to be the editor of Printers Ink Maybe if I invited him and his friends to my house, you and Andy could come and we could meet a lot of people. Maybe a group of people who believe the way we do, who are not satisfied with New Thought as it is practiced today, could generate enough power to accomplish the things we want to accomplish.
I said, Fine, that's great. I went back to New York and we did meet twice a month at her apartment. And Mr. Frederick, the ex-editor of Printers Ink, was very intellectual which pleased me to no end and he gave very interesting talks. One night, after this had gone on for about six months, Mr. Frederick said, You must be tired of listening to me all the time. Wouldn't you like to hear somebody else?
We said, Oh, yes. We enjoy listening to you, but why not?
Meher Baba arrives in the U.S., Bili to His right
He said, "Well, I have a daughter who is interested in an Eastern master. "I don't cotton up to him," he said, "but he helped my daughter a lot. You should have seen what she was like before she met him. Maybe you'd find hime interesting." We said, "Sure, bring him."
Well, the night that Phyllis Frederick came to the studio was on East 47th Street in New York (that place has been torn down now.) It was a large place. There was a grand piano and a lot of intellectual, arty people were there. Many of them had written their own poetry and recited it, and had written their own musical pieces and they played the piano, and there was all sorts of intellectual gobbledy-gook going on. Phyllis was the last on the programme. She sat in the middle of the floor and spoke very calmly. Phyllis was always sort of half-hippy and half-mast. She was a very close friend of mine and my link to Meher Baba. But she talked so peacefully. And the things she said made so much sense to me. People would ask her questions, and she gave reasons. For instance, I'd ask priests and ministers what was the reason for suffering, what was the reason for war, and they'd say, Well, you just have to believe. I haven't got that kind of mind; I just can't believe because someone tells me I have to believe. But she gave reasons of why the Jews suffered under Hitler, why black people suffer in the United States, why did the Armenians suffer under the Turks, and she gave answers to all the things that used to bother me. And I said to myself, She makes sense. I was attracted to her immediately. At the end of this night, she asked us if we'd be interested in leaving our names and addresses and she'd notify us of meetings that were being held in Manhattan. So my friend Louise and I both left our names and addresses with Phyllis, and that was the end of that. The funny part is that after this meeting our regular meetings broke up. I never saw Mr. Frederick again until two years later. I never saw any of those people again; they disappeared out of my life and I didn't even realize it, and neither did anybody else realize it till one night I had dinner at the Winterfeldts and Mr. Frederick was there and he was sitting next to me. And I looked at him and said, Don't I know you from somewhere?
He said, Yes. Arent you Louise's friend? Thats right. I said, Didn't we have meetings? He replied, Yes, that's true. Well, what happened to them? I don't know. Nobody noticed it; that's the funny thing.
I decided that I would go to one of the meetings after I had received notice from Phyllis of a meeting at the Winterfeldt's apartment at Manhattan House. I called Louise and said, Louise, let's go. You know, this is wonderful. I finally got a notice there's going to be a meeting.
She said, I wouldn't go. They are just a bunch of old people and weirdos you see on 57th Street.
I didn't want to get involved in any weirdo group, so that was that. I was a little bit disappointed about not going to the Winterfeldts. Then a couple of weeks later, I got another notice. I called Louise again. And she said, Oh, no, I wouldn't go. I went there and I saw a picture of this Meher Baba. He's getting old and bald. And since He's bald how can He help us? He can't save His own hair, how can He help us? Things were indeed different in those days than they are today. In those days there was nothing written. You could get information on Christian Science or Theosophy, which I didn't know much about. And this New Thought thing I had studied was just something new. There were no books, we didn't know anything, and we were all very formal people in those days. Nobody dressed like they do now. Women wore high heels and skirts. We wore long gloves and hats. It was a different world than it is today. I was a little bit miffed at Louise because she had gone without letting me know. But I thought, She's quite right, if He can't do anything about His own hair, how can He help us? But then, a couple of more weeks went by and I received another notice about the meetings. I called Louise, and she started to put the thumbs down and I said, Well, I donŐt know about you, Louise, but I'm going.
All right, I'll go with you, she replied. So off we went. I remember we had dinner at Longchamps that night. We went to the Winterfeldts, rang the bell, and somebody opened the door and wanted to know our credentials, what were we doing there, the meetings were not for everybody, and so on. I still have a big temper, but then it was worse. Louise, I've been thrown out of better places than this. Let's get out of here. She said, No, I'm staying. She was a very stubborn person. And just then Fred Winterfeldt came to the door and he was very sweet and kind, and urged us to come in that's how the Winterfeldts were, they were the salt of the earth, they were wonderful people.
Mr. Winterfeldt talked with me about my mother, who at that time was dying of cancer, my father had had cerebral hemorrhage; I was out of a job, I was told I needed an operation, and I thought this was the end of my life and didnŐt have long to live.
Meher Baba's Birthday Celebration at the New York Monday Night Group in the fifties. Elizabeth Patterson in the foreground and Filis Frederick with her hand across her face.
I was down at the bottom of the snake pit by this time. My marriage had broken up, everything was gone. The first thing I did when I went into the meeting was to rush right over to the picture on the wall of Meher Baba. I looked at Him and I thought, Well, He's not losing His hair. I liked Him, I thought He was nice. So I decided to stay.
I began to go more often to the meetings. In the meantime, I met a man named Philippe DuPuis, who later met Meher Baba with me. I had met him through an old friend called Pierre, they were both Frenchmen. Philippe's wife had just left him, and he had heard me talk about religious science at a party. He remembered it and called the house and wanted to know if I wanted to have lunch with him. So I said, Well, all right. Do you want to talk about God?' At that time I wasn't believing in God yet; I mean, God as a person. And Phyllis said that Meher Baba was a Perfect Master.
I had to have someone who's been there, someone to tell me or guide me, because all these other people, they talk but they don't have any experience. I had to have someone who knew. I was very much mixed up and confused at that time.
Anyway, Philippe and I had lunch and then we had dinner together. We talked and we talked about God. I told him about my bad health. He wanted to know why I did not want to go through an operation.
I told him, No, I don't want the operation, unless I find out if there is a God. If there's no God, there's no point in living. That was my state of mind.
Soon we heard from Phyllis that Meher Baba was coming to the United States in 1952 and we could meet Him. He was going to Myrtle Beach, and Andy, Louise, Philippe and I decided to go. But it turned out that Andy didn't want to drive alone because Louise and I didn't drive at the time, and Philippe couldn't leave his business. So I said, All right, we can't go to Myrtle Beach but I'm sure He's coming to New York.
They said, He's definitely not coming to New York. Nobody's coming to New York. I said, I know He's coming to New York. And sure enough He had His accident in Prague, He went back to the Center, then came to New York. We were told we could meet Him at Ivy Duce's apartment, the Hotel des Artistes on West 67th Street. It was a duplex apartment and He would be there. However, we could only go in groups. Individuals couldn't go we were not to speak to Him, we were not to ask Him any questions; we were to be introduced to Him and to move on.
Bili greets Meher Baba in California. Erich is to the right.
I still hadn't learned what Baba is, but I wanted to meet Him. I had heard of yogis in India who could perform miracles and lie on a bed of nails, and that's what I wanted to find out about the power. I was looking for power. Not much reading material was available on Meher Baba. Actually, the only reading matter we had was when we went to the Meher Baba meetings where the Winterfeldts owned a copy of the Discourses, and each one of us would read out a passage from them. And I said, 'We have to get some stuff to read, we have to have something.' And Phyllis said, 'Well, you can go to the Oriental section of the New York Library on 42nd Street and they have some copies of the Discourses there.'
I went down there and copied them in shorthand, took them home and typed them. I don't know how many trips it took me, but I typed them all up in ten copies. In those days we just had mimeograph machines and we had carbon copies. I typed up all the Discourses and gave out copies to different people in the group, and that's how we got our first batch of literature. And later on, Adi began sending us material from India.
By this time I was falling in love again, and I was beginning to lose interest, I was cooling off about religious things. This was just before Baba was to come to New York. Philippe had a business and he had to go to Texas on the very day that we were to meet Baba. 'Well, what are you going to do now?' I asked Philippe. 'Do you really want to go?' He said, 'Yes, I want to go.' So he helped me to get to meet Baba by saying, yes, he wanted to go; otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered anymore. We couldn't meet Him at the time the Monday Night Group was to meet Baba. I called Ivy Duce and said, 'Ivy, Philippe and I don't know what to do because we can't come in with the Monday Night Group. What can we do?' She said, 'Don't worry. I'll fit you in an hour ahead of time.' That 'settled it.
We took a cab over to Ivy's apartment and were ushered in. Baba's leg was in a cast. He was in a long, white sadra and half-reclining on a couch. I don't remember the Mandali being there. All I know was that when the door was open and I went into the room, it was as if I'd stepped on a live wire with wet feet. It was not just a feeling, it was physical. A shock went up from my feet right to the top of my head. I could hardly get my breath. And then, I couldn't move for a minute. Someone shoved me, Go,' and I went forward, and it seemed like it was hours before I got to Baba, hours, and yet it could only have been a second. That day the temperature was over 100 degrees, it was terribly hot. I remember I had a dress with no sleeves, long black gloves and high spiky heels. I went in and we shook hands with Baba with those long, black gloves, and I was embarrassed because I didn't know that He was going to shake hands, and I had to shake hands with the gloves on which was embarrassing. Baba motioned me to sit down next to Him, which, again, I didn't expect. And the interesting thing was, just as the shock hit me, Baba looked at me and He turned His head aside as if it was ecstasy.
Baba had the alphabet board at that time and He motioned on the alphabet board to Philippe, 'I have an uncle that looks like him.' I don't know why, here I was in love with Philippe, I didnŐt know who Baba was, and I was so jealous that Baba paid attention to him and not to me. I didn't want Him to pay any attention to Philippe, just to me. I was so jealous. Baba said, I know them, but they don't know Me.' And I found out much later after I'd begun to read a lot of different books, that the Master knows where His people are in the world and He draws them to Himself with many means. They don't know, but He knows. Then He started to spell out on His board about their work for Me,' but I didn't hear what He was saying. I was just so confused, I didn't know what was happening. Then all of a sudden, I had this feeling, overwhelming sexual thoughts came into my mind. I had a feeling He knew what I was thinking. I felt drawn to look at Him, and He looked down into my eyes; I felt like His eyes were going right down. Everything sank within me. I felt like a trapped animal, fearful of something; I don't know what it was that was so frightening. And all these various things that were happening all at once, I didn't know whether I was coming or going. Then Baba dismissed us. We got up and walked out in a daze onto the street. By then it was 104 degrees. We got onto the sidewalk and I began to shiver and shake, I had goose bumps all over me. I couldn't talk -- was so cold, you'd think I was in the Arctic. What's the matter with you? Why are you so cold?' asked Philippe. I couldn't even answer him. And then all of a sudden he clutched his stomach and stuttered, I've got butterflies in my stomach.' Both of us were in a bad state. Let's go get a drink, that's what we need,' was the way we solved things in those days. So we got in the cab, went down to the Commodore Hotel and ordered hot whiskey sours to warm me up and for his stomach, not that I think it did any good, but we watched baseball on TV. And then in the middle of watching baseball, I started to cry, which I'd never done before. It was sobs that were coming up from my toes, I thought I was going to turn inside out. I just couldn't stop sobbing, and didn't know what I was crying for. That was the funny thing. They were not hot tears, these were cold tears. I was just sobbing and sobbing, I was so embarrassed because people began to look at us. We took a cab and I went to the airport with Philippe, left him there and returned home. That was my first meeting with Meher Baba. Three months after that I cried every day. And the worst part of it was I cried when I was in public or in the street. All of a sudden the water works would turn on and I'd start to sob and cry, and I didn't know what I was crying for.
We had been reading Meher Baba's Discourses and we thought, well, He said that there's God. He hadnŐt said He was God, he hadn't manifested. I knew that He was a Perfect Master, but was not sure what a Perfect Master was. I guess it took six months before I began to understand. I remember one night Philippe and I went to an Indian restaurant just before we were to go to a Baba meeting at the Winterfeldts. And while we were having dinner, he said to me, Do you know who Baba is?' I said, 'I'm beginning to suspect.' He said, 'Who do you think He is?' I think He was probably Jesus in another incarnation.' He said, 'I think so, too.' I said, That's funny. You know, I'm beginning to think this is a very funny situation we're getting into. People who have followed Him before, were thrown to the lions.' That's true.' And I said, 'I donŐt think I'm going to like that.' Then he said, Well, I don't either. What are we going to do now?' We were in and we had already begun to love Him. 'What can we do?' I asked. We can't do anything about it. We can't unknow what we know. You know, we know it. Period.'
Around 1954, about six months before the men's Sahavas in India, I was beginning to love Baba more and more and beginning to have experiences. But I had a feeling that Baba was going to take Philippe away from me. And I told him so. I said, I think Baba's going to separate us.' He said, You're crazy. Why would He do that?' I said, 'I feel it.'
Then Philippe went to the Sahavas in India, and that was fine. After it was over, Baba told Philippe, Do not go back to the United States. Go back to your own country.' And he did. We corresponded for about six months. In the meantime, I met somebody else and fell in love again. I was in Maya up to my neck. I said to myself, What am I going to do? Here I am in love with Don now, and what am I going to tell Philippe?' He was complaining by mail that he was having a very bad time over there and things were rough for him, and so on, and he said, 'I've had nothing but bad luck since I've known you.'
So I wrote back and said, Well, don't write anymore.' I was off the hook with him and started my new romance. As I began this relationship I was told that Baba was coming to the West again in 1956. I started telling Don about Meher Baba. He was interested. He followed Baba's instructions to keep silence and fast on certain days of the year. He did everything to please me, and I thought he was interested in Baba. I don't know whether he was or not, but by telling him about Baba, I fell in love with him. And this caused other complications.
When Baba arrived in the United States, Don and I went to meet Him at the airport along with several other Baba-lovers. I remember, in those days, they didn't have the restrictions that they do today. We could go up right onto the tarmac, next to the plane, and I saw Baba looking out of the aircraft, and this would be my first real meeting, because the last time was for a few minutes. We waited for Him outside of customs. And as He came through customs, Elizabeth Patterson introduced each one of us all over again to Baba. I remember He took me in His arms and held me very close. I had a feeling that there was a big bubble in my chest, expanding slowly, slowly, slowly, and then it softly burst, and then I had complete peace, as long as He held me in His arms.
Bili as an editor in New York. Over the years she was called upon to edit and distribute Baba's discourses in the U.S.
Marion Florshiem was the person who ran the whole Sahavas for the New York people and she had to coordinate our group travel with Baba and the Mandali to Myrtle Beach and across the United States to California. She did a great job and I was happy to help her. Earlier she had mentioned to me, 'What are we going to do about a place?' Baba had to stay in New York, but nobody's apartment was big enough for Him and the Mandali and none of them were centrally located. Years ago, I had been stopped at the Delmonico Hotel, a wonderful hotel on 59th Street and Park Avenue. And I said, 'Why not try that? That's a lovely hotel, centrally located, and He would have a living room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom He'd have everything. And the Mandali could stay there,' and so it was arranged. He stayed at the Delmonico Hotel in New York and there we met Baba again. I remember we went to see 'The Most Happy Fellow,' a Broadway show with Him. And Don too met Baba. We had a dinner for Baba at Longchamps, His birthday dinner.
I remember one day, Baba dismissed us all and I decided that I didn't want to go, so I hid behind the potted plants in the room. There was a small gap through the leaves. I was closer to Baba than I was to the front row, just about two or three feet from Baba. But I could see Him through this little chink in the shrubbery as He was meeting new people. I had a phenomenol experience. Each time the door opened and somebody new would come in, Baba would open up the floodgates of His love whoosh! like a wave. It was like a big pink wave. Why pink, I don't know. But this pink wave almost engulfed me this wave of love. Darwin Shaw had that same experience once when he had to mind the door for Baba when He was receiving people. He said every time the door would open, he'd get drunk. All of a sudden Baba saw me; you could never hide anything from Baba. Baba's black eyes focused on me and Eruch dragged me out. I thought he was going to send me away, but He let me stay for a while.
We flew to the Center and took the bus. It was when we got off the bus in Florence, that I saw some restrooms and one said Colored People' 'Colored Men,' 'Colored Women,' 'White Men,' 'White Women.' Although I knew that the color question had existed in the United States, I was in the North and didn't come up against the issue so glaringly. I looked at those signs and it was the first time it really hit me. I noticed that Baba went into the 'Colored Men's' room. I was looking at these signs and was flabbergasted. And just then Baba came and said, 'What are you thinking, Billi?' Of course He didn't say it, He indicated it on the board. I was flustered. I said, 'Oh, I was just looking at the signs, Baba,' which wasn't the whole truth. I was also thinking about Beryl. She came out of the Colored Women's room and I was thinking, 'How does she feel going in there?' Then Baba went on to something else. I thought, I didn't tell Baba the whole truth; it was as good as telling Him a lie. That bothered and upset me.
I didn't have much time to think because we no sooner got out of the bus when Eruch gave me some papers and said, 'Baba wants you to edit these right away before lunch.' Everybody went off to lunch, and Kitty said, 'You can go to the Guest House to do that.' I went to the Guest House and started editing this material. And I said, Gee, I'm hungry too, just like everybody else. I ought to have lunch. Why do I have to do this when everybody else is eating lunch?' Then I thought, 'Oh, that's a helluva thing. Here you are, you big slob, Baba gives you one tiny little order and youŐre worrying about your stomach? You better get down to business and do what you're told to do edit these papers. Almost immediately Eruch came, ŇBaba says come right away for lunch.' He took the papers from me, I never saw them again and I don't know what they were about. I learned that Baba makes you understand obedience, and once you get the point, He never belabors it. You get it, that's it.
At the Center I was wearing thong sandals, which I always wore. Baba looked at my feet and said, Do you have any closed shoes?' I said, Yes, Baba.' He said, 'Wear closed shoes down here. The snakes. Don't ever wear anything but closed shoes.' I think that's when the order started, no one was supposed to wear anything but closed shoes on the Center. And there was another little interesting thing: incidentally, I went into the business of editing and writing right after Baba gave me all this editing material (I had never done it before) and that's how I earned my living for about 25 years. I used to love the beach, loved to swim. There was a nice beach down there with warm water. One morning Baba dismissed us all and said, 'Come after lunch.' I took that to mean that we're not going to see Him till after lunch. I didn't have any editing to do, so I told Adele and a few others, 'I'm going to the beach this morning,' and off I went. On my way Kitty gave me some typing to do for Baba, so I couldn't go to the beach. But I said, 'Where can I go?' She said, There's a little cabin with a typewriter off in the woods.' I went to that little cabin with just a table and a chair and a typewriter. I sat there for two hours, finished the typing and left to go to the Guest House to hand over His papers.' As I left this little hut, who should come along but Meherjee. He saw me and got red in the face. He said, 'Bili, where have you been? Baba has sent everybody looking for you and nobody can find you, and somebody said you went to the beach, and what right do you have to go to the beach when you have Baba?' I said, 'I didn't go to the beach. I have been typing for Baba. Where is Baba?' He said, 'In the Guest House,' so I went on, and Meherjee followed me. And I did not go far, when along comes Adi. 'Bili, where have you been? Baba has sent the station wagon to the beach looking for you, nobody can find you; Baba threatens to go back to India and now everybody's going to suffer on account of you. Baba says nobody loves Him because they go to the beach.' I said, 'Adi, I did not go to the beach. I was typing for Baba.' By this time I was beginning to get a little bit wise to Baba's ways, and I knew He knew that I hadn't gone to the beach. So what was He up to? I was beginning to enjoy this instead of getting upset. Then along comes Eruch and he bawls me out, and I tell him that I was not at the beach, but was typing. All of us went up to the Guest House. As I entered the Guest House I saw Baba sitting on the sofa all in white, looking as happy as a birthday cake, and the whole encampment sitting around Him looking like the Last Judgment. Baba smiles at me like I was the dear one. I looked around quickly at everybody, and they were all waiting for me to get blasted. I saw Margaret, Kitty, Elizabeth, the Shaws, all of them, everybody's sitting there waiting for this terrible thing that was going to happen. Of course, they didn't know what was going on, but Baba knew and I was probably the only one that knew what had been going on. I walk in and Baba smiles at me and He pats the seat next to Him. I go and sit next to Baba and had a nice afternoon with Him. He didn't explain anything to anybody. But I think we all got a lesson from that. What He was really saying was, 'Even if I do dismiss you, while I'm around, donŐt take a chance. When I'm around and the Avatar is here, always be on the qui vive' It reminds me of that passage in the Bible: 'Nobody knows when the bridegroom cometh.' And from that, there was something else that Baba led me into. When I looked at Margaret at that moment, I saw Baba's eyes which were very big and black and flashing. They flashed over to Margaret and me, and back. What He was looking at, what He saw, I don't know. But after that whole session was over and I left the Guest House and everybody went away, Margaret Craske came out and said, 'Bili, I have something to tell you.' I thought, 'Oh, it's bad news, He's going to send me home. I did something wrong?' She tells me, 'Baba says we should see more of each other.' I said, 'That's not bad news for me. It is probably bad for you.' It must have been ten years after that, when I said to Margaret, 'Why do the dancers keep saying 'I'm one of the dancer's group', when Baba only said that we should see more of each other.' 'Oh,' she said, 'He did say you should be one of the dancer's group.' I said, 'When was that?' She said, 'In 1958,' I'd been told that He always referred to me this way: either as a cat or as a dancer.
I said, 'I don't understand. He said I should be one of the dancer's group?' She said, 'Yes.' I said, 'So why didn't you tell me?' She said, 'I thought you knew.' I said, 'How would I know?' She said, 'I thought you asked Baba if you could be one of the dancers.' I said, 'I never mentioned it to Baba.' Some time later a friend of mine called me and said that she had a bad back. I suggested we both do modern dancing. She said, 'Let's not go to modern, let's take ballet.'
I said, 'Oh, God, adults shouldn't start ballet, it's too much of a strain.' She insisted, 'Let's go. They have an adult class at Ballet Theater.' So I went to Ballet Theater. We took one class, she left, and I stayed ten years. And it was there I met four people who came to Baba. To retrace my steps, I continued to worry about not telling Baba the truth at Florence, and thought, 'I'm going to meet Baba somehow this afternoon and talk to Him, try to straighten this whole thing out. I didn't want to have anything between us that wasn't just straight. So I asked Eruch if I could see Baba alone some time. He said yes, Baba said I could see Him, but He had to see the Press right then, but that He would let me know when I could see Him. Later that afternoon I was called to the Guest House and Baba was sitting on the porch and He was alone, and this was one of the many instances where I saw Baba alone. Margaret Craske said, 'You know, it's very rare that people ever saw Baba alone. There was always somebody there.' I went to the porch of the Guest House where Baba was. I was having this affair with Don and I thought, 'Oh, I'm in lust.' I wasn't really too concerned about Don; my mind was on Baba. I was sitting down, Baba was sitting down; He was very close. I said, 'Baba, you didn't have to send the Mandali away. Why are you sending them away? They can hear what I have to say.' But He sent them away. 'Baba, when you asked me about the signs and what I was thinking, and I said I was looking at the signs, it was more than that. I was wondering about Beryl having to use the Colored Women's room and that was bothering me.' He said, 'Don't let it bother you. The mind is always playing tricks.' And before He said that, He said, ours is the closest of relationships, 'the most intimate of relationships.' Those were His exact words. 'There should be no shadow between us.' Then He called Eruch back in, because that's how He talked to me, through Eruch. He said, 'Take me with you, I am within.'
This is one of the many ways that Baba shows how wonderful He was, and is. You can go to Him with anything. He wants to know. He knows anyway but He wants you to say it. There was another incident in 1956. One day Baba was seeing a lot of newcomers at the Center in the Barn. I was watching Baba, and He gave Margaret the job of welcoming visitors. Baba always said that if He caught cold, He would go back to India. We were all worried that Baba might catch a cold. We wanted Him to stay as long as possible. This was on our minds a great deal, especially on mine. When He asked for a shawl, I thought, 'Oh, my God, He's got a sore throat,' and I panicked. I rushed around, 'Does anybody have some throat lozenges for Baba?' Just then Harold Rudd came along in the car from the Guest House to the Barn and I started walking back because somebody told me that Kitty and Elizabeth were at the Guest House and they probably would have some lozenges for Baba. I met Harold, 'Where are you going?' he asked. I said, 'I'm going to the Guest House. Baba has a sore throat and I have to get these lozenges and Kitty and Elizabeth have them, and Baba will go back to India if we don't do something.' Well, he panicked, too. He said, 'Get in, I'll drive you back.' I got in the car, we're driving back, and everybody seemed to stop us. They kept saying, 'Drive us to the barn?' And Harold would say, 'No, we can't stop, we can't stop.' He was getting redder and redder in the face; he was practically in a state of apoplexy and I was just as bad as he was, because we couldn't seem to get to the Guest House and I was so anxious that if we didn't do something about Baba's sore throat, that would be the end of this Sahavas. We finally got to the Guest House and I told Elizabeth and Kitty that Baba had a sore throat, did they have anything for it. Kitty said, 'Yes, I have some lozenges here,' and Elizabeth said, 'Yes, but don't go around telling everybody that Baba has a sore throat.' I said, 'Why not? He can have a sore throat if He wants to, can't He?' And she said, 'Yes, of course He can, but other people wouldn't understand that God could have a sore throat, because people have their own ideas how God should be.' Later on Baba made a remark, 'I think some of my lovers have gone mad because they say I have a sore throat when I never had one.' Then we went with Baba to Washington, D.C. and onto Los Angeles. In Los Angeles, it seemed that Kitty was having some trouble preparing Baba's breakfast. She said she couldn't get the right kind of stove to cook on, and would I go out and look for one ? Well, I'd never been to Los Angeles before, but she asked me to go out and look for this stove she described; I didn't quite understand what she wanted, but I was going out to find one. It was a Sunday and there was nothing open. I couldn't find any kind of a stove whatsoever. And then I got an idea, I donŐt think I was in my right mind when I was with Baba. I had the craziest ideas. I said, 'Well, something's got to be done about Baba's breakfast. There's no stove, so what can I do?' 'He has to have something pure,' I thought. So what can I get? I went to a health food store and got some honey, but insisted that it had to be in a comb, untouched by human hands. I got this comb honey and I brought some stone ground whole wheat bread and took it back to the hotel. I gave it to Eruch to give to Baba saying, 'This is for Baba's breakfast.'
Bili's life with Meher Baba is peppered with amusing incidents. Bili as a guest speaker at the California Sahavas. Photo: Mario Zavala
He took it and looked sort of mystified. He went to Baba with this bread and honey. About an hour later, we were on our way to Ojai. We went by bus. Eruch came out and said, 'Bili, Baba said you and the other four, eat all of this bread and honey, all of it, before lunch.' I must confess I did not want to look at honey for many, many years after that. As Margaret says, there was always a group of five people that Baba worked with. When Baba went to England, He had five people: He chose Margaret, and Kitty and Delia, and I'm not sure of the other two ' I think it was Minta and Kim. Then when He came to the United States in 1956, He had another five: Phyllis Frederick, Adele Wolkin, Beryl Williams, Sylvia Gaines and me. Phyllis and I were Wasps, Beryl was Black, and Sylvia and Adele were Jewish. We were more mixed in the United States. He always called for the Five. We were in Myrtle Beach in 1956 and we took a walk with Baba to the Barn. He had these long, graceful strides like a panther. And no one, not even the Mandali, could keep up with Him. I was determined to stick right on Baba's heels, no matter what. Beryl too decided that she was going to stick on Baba's heels, no matter what. Everybody else was stringing along behind. Then, on our way, Beryl got the idea that I was shoving her out of the way. She said, 'Stop shoving me.' I said, 'I'm not shoving you, you're shoving me.' And we were having this mini-war behind Baba, all the while running as fast as we could. All of a sudden, Baba took a right-angle turn, and we went running off into the bushes. He came back and stood there looking at us. Then He came back on that same walk and started going again full speed. We were not fighting this time, but were going full speed ahead, and all of a sudden Baba stopped in His tracks and I climbed up His heels. 'Excuse me, Baba, excuse me.' He did'nt seem to notice.
In 1958 Baba sent us a message that we should indulge in no lustful thoughts, words or deeds for six months. Here I was at the height of this steamy affair with Don and I thought, 'Oh, my God, what am I going to do?' And I said, 'Well, there's only one thing I can do.' I said to Don, 'We can't see each other for six monyhs.'
After about six weeks I met him by accident at a party and the roof fell in. Neither of us could resist each other. I was so miserable during all that time, I thought, 'I'm disobeying Baba.' After that time was over, I was so relieved and I said, 'Thank God, the time period is over. Now we're free to lead our lives the way we want.' Two weeks later, the second order came. This time married couples were exempted, but not single couples. I was sure that He was aiming it at me. This order was for four months. It was just too much. I finally decided, if I persist in this, I'm going to lose Baba, I'm going to lose His damaan and I just have to stop. So I said to Don, 'Finish. That's the end. We have to stop this.' I broke up with him, but went through two years of misery, it took two years to get over it, because we got along very well. But I had made up my mind a long time ago that Baba was it, so it wasn't worthwhile, nobody is worthwhile, no human being is worth giving up Baba for. I decided to give up Don and I did. When Baba came back to the United States in 1958, I was so full of guilt, but I went to the Center. I wanted to see Baba again and I went. Some of us were discussing on the bus going to the Center, whether we should wash up first and then see Baba, or should we go see Baba right away. We decided we'd better wash up first and then go see Baba. One of the Mandali met the bus and said, 'Go straight to see Baba.' So we did. But I was so guilty that when I went in there and saw Baba, I went to the farthest corner and hid behind a lot of people. I loved Him, I loved Him more than ever, but I just felt too guilty, I couldn't look at Him. Baba looked around and said, 'Where's Bili?' And they said, 'She's over here, Baba.' He said, 'Bili, come over and sit here.' I had to get up and go over and sit in front of Him. Imagine how I felt. He looked at me and said, 'Bili, do you love Me as much as ever?' In that split second a million thoughts went through my mind. What am I doing here if I did not love Him as much as ever? I loved Him more, but I didn't know what to say because I was just too guilty. Then He got me off the hook, He knew how I felt. He said, 'Do you love Me as much as Anita does?' And, of course, how would I know how much Anita loved Him? I said, 'Baba, only you know all hearts.' And that ended that. One day in 1958 at the Center, the question of groups came up. I don't know who it was that was wondering about being in groups. Baba gathered a group of us around Him and said, 'People have asked about belonging to a group: 'Do you have to belong to a group to belong to Me?' Look at Kitty, Elizabeth, Margaret. They don't belong to a group, but they're very close to Me.' I noticed He looked very sharply at me at that moment. I had no intention of leaving the Monday Night Group, but I did leave a few months after that because they began interfering in my life, I thought, and I didn't want to have anybody interfere with my life. But I didn't leave the people that I loved. In the meantime, of course, Baba had put me with the dancers, although they're a very loose group and not in any way authoritarian. He put me where I belonged. When we were at the Center that year Baba gathered a group of us around Him and He was in His white sadra, and this is where I think that probably young people had the same problems I did with the abstinence order, because He stood there and solemnly said, 'I forgive all of you, all of your sins, to this day.' That made me feel better, but God can forgive you, yet you can't forgive yourself; that's the rub. I could never forgive myself for that. But it taught me a lesson, it was good from that point of view. And so, as a result of that, in spite of all the suffering, I began to be more real friends with men and appreciate them for what they were as people rather than pleasure objects. I became more friendly with women because there was no more jealousy, no more competition. Sex doesn't exist as a big problem anymore for me. It exists, I'm a human being, but I since then, I haven't had any need to have anybody around me all the time like I did then. He did give me a lot more in return, I'm a freer person. What I'll be in another life, who knows? But in this life, He certainly has loosened the bonds. GLOW