By Rafe Nauen

My girlfriend Riva Warren was 16 and too young to join Subud when her father, John Warren, asked to speak to me. John was a lovely man, and I even missed the chance of being alone in the house with Riva to follow him to talk to ‘the helpers’. Guildford was about to become my new workplace and I was on the cusp of leaving the job of farm labourer to become a Chef at the Tudor Rose. In the meantime, I was opened in Subud. The day after my opening, the restaurant administration announced that, contrary to tradition in Guildford, it would no longer close on a Monday (latihan night). And Thursday (latihan night) was always going to continue to be a work night. That was in 1970, and I was 19.

Sometimes when the restaurant was quiet, I would slip out to join in the latihan and hope that when I got back, my bosses would assume I was meeting my girlfriend. I never told them about Subud! I managed to get to some group events but often found my naÏve questions not only unanswered but flattened.

Nonetheless, John’s enthusiasm for the discovery of Subud was infectious and I became hooked. I got the latihan straight away – it was a realisation that we are spiritual beings having a human experience and not the other way around. I recall starting to play the piano during latihan to be stopped by a helper who said it was not appropriate. Even then, weeks into latihan I thought, “if latihan is exactly as he has told me in my probation period, then playing the piano is okay and will never disturb others, and how did he know who was doing what.” The eyes-closed faraway helper was suddenly up close and personal, and just a bit more normal and human than I had anticipated!

Years later I was reprimanded as a helper for allowing someone to do latihan with their eyes open. I said to this helper, “How did you know he had his eyes open?” But I knew that what I was getting was gold dust. John died in 2017 and I always felt I owed him a lot.

In 1974 the bomb explosion during the Irish ‘troubles’ damaged the latihan hall beyond repair, but I was not there! By then Riva had changed her name to Dinah (later to Idina). We had married and bought a farm in North Wales (thanks to Nat West for 120% mortgage). Idina’s opening was spontaneous on our honeymoon, on the way to the farm. She was 17. In 1976 I became a helper – by then I was a craft potter and we managed to get to Kenfield Hall (Subud Britain’s National Centre at the time) where members met for weekends, meetings and socialising. In 1977 I became a National Helper, and Idina was by then the Executive Chair.

In 1979 we moved to Bristol so that I could go to Bristol Poly (now the University of the West of England). I was qualifying as a town planner. During this period of our lives Idina left to join Elwyn. I stayed on in Bristol, married again, and completed my degree. I took on the posts of chair of Subud Bristol and chair of Fountain Housing Association (a charity started by David Barker and other members).

I actually look back on those times with fondness despite the fact that in the midst of all those events I lost my way with the two children I’d had with Idina. They lived a long way away, and being a student I couldn’t afford for them to come as often as I would have wished. In modern parlance, ‘it was complicated’. Subud led me to become financial director at Anugraha – a somewhat poisoned chalice! But I learned SO much.

Subud and the latihan were very much my spiritual training ground, but I had never liked hypocrisy and found some happenings an eternal sadness. My philosophy had always been that an oily rag can light a beautiful candle – it’s the flame that is important.

These days latihan comes and goes at will (its will, not mine) even travelling fast on my motorbike! And I have few regrets, none of them big. I don’t attend latihan. It attends me.

Rafe Nauen