DEEPAK AND HUMAN DESIGN

     I pulled up in front of the porch of Ferdinandito’s in Ibiza, Spain on this big, black Harley Davidson with thump, thump, thump deep throated mufflers that felt like power, sounded like power, that vibrated with power with every stroke of the 1500cc Fat Boy chrome engine. I had just driven thousands of kilometers from Holland through Germany and Switzerland and Italy and France camping out by myself along the way and really felt like I had accomplished something to reach my destination. All those hours in the saddle with the roar of the engine in my ear and the wind in my hair had put some hair on my chest. I needed hair somewhere. I was 55 years old and was losing it off the top of my head.

 

     There were maybe twenty Osho sannyasins sitting up on the porch and I climbed the steps like a man’s man with my motorcycle boots and leather jacket and gloves and helmet in my hands and everything. People recognized me and started calling out and saying, “Hey, Deepak is here”.  I was well known in Osho world. I had been writing the monthly horoscope for Osho Times and my picture was in every issue. There were over 50,000 sannyasins that read that magazine all over the world and usually they turned to the horoscope first.

 

     Some guys I know from the ashram in Pune, India invite me over to their table and ask me about the big Harley and start making a fuss over my adventures and tell me how much they like my horoscope. There is another guy lying on his back over three chairs with a baseball cap over his face that says ‘No Choice’. It looks like he is sleeping, but it doesn’t feel like he is sleeping. Pretty soon he sits up, tilts his baseball cap back up over his head, and looks me straight in the eye.

 

     “My name is Ra”, he says. I don’t think he held out his hand. He just said his name and looked me in the eye.

 

     “Yeah, yeah, I heard about you”, I said all puppy dog enthusiastic, “you are really doing some good work”.

 

     I lied. I had heard about him, but I had no idea of what kind of work he was doing. I had run into it in a strange way. A couple of years before in the ashram in Pune I had run across a book or box of huge cards that looked like a book with some strange, appealing designs. There was no text or written description that made any sense, but they had a strange allure for me and I had looked at them, just looked at them many times wondering what they were. They were from a guy by the name of Ra and here he was.

 

     “I want you to come visit me,” Ra said. He didn’t ask. He didn’t command. He just said.

 

     “Yeah, yeah, sure”, I said, lying through my teeth, “I’ll do that someday”. I had just gotten there, I didn’t know where he lived, and I was leaving it up to the flow. I am a famous procrastinator. Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow.

 

     “Now or never,” he said while looking me steadily in the eye.

 

     Well, that was kind of straight and to the point. Kind of took my breath away. I dropped my jaw and nodded my head and we got into his old beat up Mercedes and took off into the wilderness of Ibiza over the dirt, bumpy roads to his finca. Only Mercedes and Land Rovers are tough enough to survive the roads on this island.

 

     “I don’t know why I am doing this”, he said, “I never take anyone to my home”.

 

     We drove on in silence, slowing down for particularly bad bumps, turning this way and that, and he added, “And I never give anyone a free session”.

 

     We get to his stone house in the middle of nowhere. He goes to turn on the generator so we can have some power and then we go into a little stone hut where his office and computer are. No small talk, no chit chat, no pleasantries or social niceties or shows of affection or bonding. Just to the point. He asks my birthdata, makes my Human Design, turns on the tape recorder, and he begins to talk.

 

     He says something I recognize, something true about me, and I interrupt him and say, “Yeah, that’s right, when I was a kid I ……”

 

    “Shut up”, he says calmly as he turns and looks me steadily in the eye, “if you have any questions at the end of the session, I will answer them then”.

 

     It kind of took my breath away. Again. No one had ever told me to shut up before. I was Mr. Silver Tongue that had amused and beguiled the multitudes. I shut up and I listened and I was enthralled. He was so incredibly clear. It was not just information he was giving. It was some kind of transmission. He talked about riding the emotional wave, about waiting to make a decision until I had been at the top of the wave and the bottom of the wave both, about waiting to be invited, about listening to the sound in my throat, about my restless moving moving, about listening to the telephone with my right ear, about being an individualist and deaf to others, about having to struggle to prove the value of life,about having a fixed rhythm.

 

     “If you like to have your supper at 6pm and your wife brings it at 7, then change the wife”, Ra said.

 

     At the end of the session, Ra turned to me and asked if I had any questions now. I didn’t. I was speechless, really speechless. Something had happened beyond words. He told me it would take 7 years for the knowledge I had received to sink down into the cellular level.

 

     I spent the summer on Ibiza having all kinds of adventures and showing off on that big, black Harley Davidson. Every time I saw Ra, he would give me some information or tell me something or give me a book of his. I didn’t realize how special it was the treatment he was giving me. I don’t think I was grateful enough, but it wasn’t gratitude he was looking for. He himself didn’t know why he was doing this. His Authority is from the Spleen. He acts in the Now according to his little voice of intuition that speaks softly only once.

 

     The summer was over and it was time for me to go. I took off on the Harley and headed for Holland going through  France and Switzerland and Germany and finally back to Den Haag in a cold, driving rain that left me soaked and freezing. I booked a ticket for Mexico and gave the first Mystic Rose group in the history of Mexico City. It was 3 hours a night every night for three weeks. The first week was three hours a night of non-stop laughing for no reason at all. The second week was three hours a night of non-stop crying for no reason at all. The third week was three hours a night of sitting silently in meditation for no reason at all. There were ten working people who had jobs during the day and no one missed a night. I was proud of them.

 

     After three months in Mexico, I went back to America for the second time in 7 years. I bought an old Ford custom van in Seattle with a bed in the back and I drove down Highway l to L.A. and then over to Arizona. A friend I had met in India had a house in the desert in southern Arizona and said I could stay there rent free if I would feed his chickens. I stayed in beautiful nature all by myself for three months in total silence and isolation with only the stars twinkling in the sky at night to keep me company.

 

     I had friends in Sedona, Arizona and they told me Ra was giving a workshop the next week. I drove the five hours up there in the van to go to the workshop. I sat in the front row and when Ra came in, he was pleasantly surprised. After the workshop, he took me to where he was staying and gave me another free reading, a transit reading about the changes in my life. Good it was for free because I was broke again and living on nothing. I slept in the van and washed my face and upper body at the rest stops on the highway.

 

     Ra was moving to Sedona. He had been living in Taos, but his students had tried to make a guru out of him and he moved with his wife, Ambuja, and their two kids to Sedona. I found a place to park the van at night and that is where I would sleep. It was winter and sometimes the snow was high enough to cover the wheels. A German friend, Satdeva, I had met in India,  let me sleep on his porch in a beautiful little trailer park outside town called Trout Fish Farm. It was enough for me. I was o.k.

 

     Ra was kind to me. He invited me to stay in his room in his house with Ambuja and the kids for a week while he took a trip back to Taos. He had lived this life himself before. On Ibiza, before he heard ‘the voice’ and began teaching, he had lived in the wilderness in old abandoned finkas or caves. He had no money and they had to give him food at Ferdinandito’s to keep him alive.

 

     He kept giving me knowledge and books. I would spend my days reading, reading. I would visit him and he would sit with me and just talk and talk and I would just listen and listen and let it all soak in. One day he told me that a dedicated student by the name of Randy had paid him his very high fees for 15 hours of private teaching, just him and Ra. Ra had asked him if Deepak could sit in. Randy was kind enough to say yes and it was just the three of us for 3 hours a day for five days to sit with Ra. Again it was more like a transmission than information giving. It was deep, it was profound, and it transformed. At the end of it, Ra told me that he was giving me a professional Human Design teaching license that was good for Europe. He had already sold the rights for America. That was o.k. It was 1999 and I had had enough of America. It had changed into something scary and not so human. I was on my way back to Europe and India anyway.

 

     I saw Ra again when he was giving a workshop in Cologne, Germany in 2002. I stopped to visit him at his house when he was living outside of Munich, Germany in 2003. I was driving the big, black Harley again and took Ra’s oldest son, Loki, for a ride around the small village to show off to his friends. Ra was moving again. Ambuja was German and Ra had moved there to give it a try. Now they were moving back to Ibiza again to settle down once and for all. The house was full of packing boxes and everything was labeled, listed, and computerized. I was amazed at the efficiency of it all.

 

     I didn’t see Ra again until October, 2005. My tiny, precious new wife, Ming-Yng, and I were staying with my best friend, Tom, in Den Haag for three months. I saw one of those one week package trips to Ibiza for an incredibly good price during off season. For some reason I wanted to go to Ibiza and see Ra again. I wanted to show Ming-Yng Ibiza and I wanted to introduce her to Ra. He was kind enough to invite us to his house for dinner a couple of times that week. He is very particular about whom he invites into his house and his auric ‘bubble’. I felt it was a gift to ever be invited by him to anything.

 

     I was impressed all over again. There are not that many people in this world that good to impress me and I am always happy when I find them. Yeah, Ra was living in a beautiful house overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, but it was the condition of his family that I loved the most. They were all glowing. Ambuja was shining. The kids were happy and free. Ra’s older daughter, Sarah, was centered and fulfilled. Everybody was being true to themselves and recognizing each other’s truth also. This was the proof of the pudding. Human Design is not just some abstract do-nothing mind fuck like psychology and most spiritual philosophies. Human Design is about how to live your life in a true and fulfilling way and everyone I have ever met who knows this knowledge is glowing with gratitude that it exists.

 

     Having met Ra and his family in person, Ming-Yng has found a deep interest and personal connection to Human Design. She is as totally enthused as I am. I have taught her Astrology and I have taught her NLP and it is Human Design that she loves. Me too. We have ordered thousands of dollars of books and tapes and transcripts and excitedly share our insights with each other. We are both Generators and have learned to ask each other questions and listen to the Sacral Sound to find our truth. We both have defined Emotional Centers and have learned to sleep on it before we make major decisions in life. Life is good and getting better.

 

Oh yeah, after we saw Ra on Ibiza and got back to Holland, I realized it had been exactly 7 years since he had first given me the transmission the first time that long time ago.