Anna Billings

Midway through my first Enlightenment Intensive (in 1983) I was convinced it would also be my last. When I learned some participants had actually attended more than one of these, I was aghast. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to endure such torture and go on to choose it yet again. Then I hit a crisis. Something arose in my consciousness that I was sure another could never understand. Though I wanted to quit, the master, with her strong, compassionate support, encouraged me to get it across anyway. I saw in her eyes she knew I could do it and I did. It was the first time I had ever experienced getting something fully across to another that arose out of the deepest places in my heart and soul. I'm forever grateful to Menaka for this. I couldn't wait to sign up for another Enlightenment Intensive.

The next available one was the Third Annual Intensive and I was there. So was Bruce. He was a monitor and he zeroed in on me early on. I was reveling in the wild and wonderful freedom of truthful communications and found myself in a blissful state in which I was so satisfied, I felt this had to be as good as it could possibly get. Then along comes Bruce.

"I'm feeling great," I told him as I described the warm, buttery openness I was enjoying. "How could it get any better than this? I can taste all the subtle flavors in the food. I can feel the sweet textures of soft wind on my skin. I feel happy and free. Isn't this enough? I think I've got it, don't you?"

That was the first time I heard Bruce's famous laugh. He said something about there being so much more and that it was well worth it to persist in the inquiry. Though I wasn't sure what this could be, I got there was truth in what he was saying. He re-engaged my interest and I kept at it. Whenever I felt discouraged, there was Bruce again, sometimes standing behind my dyad partner, sometimes mouthing, "Who are you?" or whispering it in my ear."

He was annoyingly persistent and steadfastly supportive. And I soon came to realize that, indeed, there is so much more.

This past October, I had the great honor and privilege of co-mastering the Twenty-seventh Annual Intensive in which Bruce was a participant. We had come full circle as I found myself in the role of supporting him in this work I have come to love so much.

So here's to Bruce, courageous pioneer, crazy-wisdom seeker, compassionate elder, and self-proclaimed record-holder for the greatest number of intensives attended (and he could recite the exact number as participant, as monitor, and as master).

A remembered quote from Bruce: "I believe I'm the oldest participant here, so as senior spokesperson, let me say thank you."

And thank you too, Bruce. We will miss you and we will remember you.

With love always,

Anna Billings