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Sunyata - Alfred Emanuel Sørensen - a Danish Mystic
 

In this life play I have not been in quest of Guru

In this life play I have not been in quest of Guru,
God, Truth, Grace, Salvation, nirvana, or power lust.
 
I had no ambition to be different from what I am.
 
Blessedly, I had escaped headucation, and was
free of any imposed knowledge. I had no property.

I did not marry. I did not belong to any cliques
or creed. I was not attracted to their magnetism.

I felt all is within our Self.

I had nothing to assert or resent.
Nor had I anything to boast about or regret.

I was fully contented.
I had joy in that which is.

  Meditation is not easy to express in language.
So
Alfred Emanuel Sørensen had difficulties using ordinary words when he had to express his unique experiences to fellow travellers. Emanuel was a simple man from Denmark.

As he explained himself:

I did not belong to any cliques or creed.
I was not attracted to their magnetism.

What words will you use, when you, walking the path alone, meet crossroad souls?

This Lion spontaneously roared out his own Wu! language
.

I am not alone!
he would proclaim... I am all-one!
Joyous ease, innerstanding, delightful uncertainty, affectionate detachment.

Emanuel´s words are easy to innerstand. They are meant for you dear reader - when you are ready to leave the spiritual drugs of cults - and stand alone.


A natural born mystic
 






This is the bed which Sunyata
was using in Hoshiarpur.

I did not have the good luck to meet Sunyata face to face.
But I met Him through his life long friend S.N. Bharadwaj.

Alfred Julius Emmanuel Sorensen was a Danish "natural born mystic" who lived in India for 40 years.
After a visionary dream where The Great Saint Ramana talked to him he gave himself the name Sunyata (Shunyata, Shunya or Sunyabhai)

Shunyata never advertised himself and always said that he was not a teacher. He came from no lineage and left no successor. Yet he spontaneously affected many people.

Sorensen was born in northern Denmark in 1890, the son of a peasant farmer. He went to school but says that he escaped "headucation."

He preferred nature, his own company and silence. He was commucatiing with trees  and plants.

When he was 14 his father sold the farm and as a result, he was uprooted -- his word -- and left school. He trained as a horticulturist and then went abroad. He had jobs in France and Italy for a while but ended up in England where he worked as a gardener for 20 years. No record of this time exists.
 
But in 1929 he met Rabindranath Tagore when Tagore was visiting Dartington Hall, near Tones in Devon in. Sunyata went up to him and
said that he felt strangely drawn to him and this country, India. They
got on well and Tagore invited Sunyata Alfred Sorensen to visit him at Santiniketan, his centre near Calcutta. "Come to India to teach silence." Shunyata says that he had no problems or questions, but went to India
to see if the consciousness he was already aware of "was a living thing still".
 
He remained in India for 18 months during the years 1929-31, traveling on his own after staying with Tagore for only a short while - and found that travel suited him. Sometime within those 18 months (or possibly just after his second return) he was befriended by a young American that was in the process of returning to the United States after many years in India. In a final pilgrimage on the sub-continent before leaving for the U.S.

The American was on his way to Swami Ramdas to pay homage and his respects as well as offer his thanks and gratitude for sending him to the Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi several years earlier. The young American was to become famous anonymously some years later in a book by British author W. Somerset Maugham titled The Razor's Edge. The meeting was a turning point for Shunyata because the man, basically no different than himself, had Awakened to the Absolute under the auspices of a sage Shunyata was later to say was his "most significant spiritual encounter." Shunyata returned briefly to the West, possibly traveling with the anonymous American, to tie up some loose ends, then went back to India and stayed there for the next 40-odd years. (source)
 
At the beginning of those 40 years he lived in a tree on a small island in the Ganges near Hardwar. Students from the college in the town would swim out to the island and he would climb down from the tree to talk to them. But eventually he ended up near Almora, about 7,000 feet up in
the mountains near the borders of Nepal and Tibet. The Nehru family had a house in the area, Shunyata was their gardener.

 

Bhaharadwaj speaks about his life long friend Sunyata


 


Every winter, when it was too
cold to stay in Kalimat, Almora
Sunyata came to Hoshiarpur to
stay with
his life long friend
S.N. Bharadwaj.
 





A video glimpse
of Bharadwajs Home 

Photos of Sunyata
Ends and beginnings are dreams

   

 


Sunyata in his "Immortal Garden of Emptiness" at Kalimat. Almora. His feeling with
gardens, as with people, was just to let go, allow them to become what they would. 1972

The Mystery of Sri Wuji





















Sunyata with the cosmic dog, Sri Cho Chu
Wuji, who had been brought from Tibet
in a sack along with a tiger cub.






Question: Why did you change his name from Wuti to Wuji?

S
unyata: He needed less bark and more bite! Adding Ji to name is what is  done in India to show respect.

I
: So his name could be translated as "The Honorable Yes & No".

Q
: Yes!..... And no. (Audience laughs)   You see, if God did not exist then that whole business would have to be invented. Same with Wuji.

Q
: Is Wuji here tonight?

S
: Certainly.  But you are not aware of it unless you become spiritually Aware, see him clairvoyantly, with the intuitive eye. He is here.

A later interview - 1983

Q: Who is Wuji?

S
: For 10 years, Sri Wuji was a Himalayan dog and seems to be a spirit- wu-al or spirited no-thing-ness in the invisible Real - our alter ego, a Sat Presence, a playmate.

Q:
What is Wuji really like?

S
: Wuji is like no thing on earth or heaven. One of his name tags is Sri No-thing-ness.

Q:
Why is there a Wuji?

S
: If God did not exist, He would have to be invented. Likewise, Sri Wuji.

Q:
Where does Wuji live?

S
: Here and now in space time rhythm.

Q:
When is Wuji going to happen next?

S
: Sri Wuji may not happen as phenomenon in Swa Lila. He apperceives Eternity.

Q:
How is Wuji doing?

S
: Sri-No-thing-ness is not a doer. He is an august Presence, simply and purely awake to, intuit an apperceive.

Q:
Is Wuji a kind of connection, a process, an event?

S
: Yes.

Q:
Is Wuji a consciousness?

S
: Yes - a playful, impish, sex-free and god-free consciousness. Or conscious awareness.

Q:
Is Wuji an Angel or God

S
: Yes. Both. And neither. Wu!

Q:
Does everybody have a Wuji?

S
: Sri Wuji, Sri-No-thing-ness is not possessive, nor a possession; neither a have nor have not. He innerstands at joyous ease and awarely. He intuits and appreciates, apperceives and is Real-ly sex-free, body-free, birth-free, and death-free. Wuji is ego-free in non-dual One-ness.
Or wu-ness. Wu!

Q:
Is the meaning beyond meaning?

S
: Yes.

Q:
Is Wuji a big joke?

S
: Himalayan joke. For there is no Wuji.

Q:
Is Wuji something to sell? Can it be purchased? In what marketplace?

S
: No and Wu!

Q:
Is Wuji uncathable, always just a step ahead or in back?

S
: Yes. He innerstands and also outerstands. He is the beyond that is also within. He is a mirrorization. 

Q:
Please tell me how to catch the uncatchable, eff the ineffable, speak the unspeakable, be the unthinkable. Please tell me why I am Wuji. I forgot.

S
: You are THAT, Truth in Sat(ire) already. Wake up in pure awareness. Intuit. Apperceive. And BE in Self hood, Wu hood. Grace aware, awarely, and there will be no queststions, no quest and no questioner. Apperceive "to the pure all is pure".
The Self and its shadow are in unity, a unicity. Ego shadow is Sun-Self. Wholify. Apperceive. And rejoice in Divine gratitude, Says Wuji, our wordy and worthy playfellow, our impish guardian, wise Demon who  is one single wordish sound radiating.
  





Sunyata at the age of 88



 


Sunyata's home at Kalimat. Like his friend Bharadwaj Sunyata taped spiritual photos
on the wall including a large one of his Divine Inspirator the great Ramana Maharshi.



Sunyata outside his Kalimat Cave.

These pictures of Sunyata gives a glimpse
of his Hermit Happiness

He said:
I am not alone...
I am al-one!



A sign "No visitors - Silence" every would-be
visitor would see near the gate of Sunyata's
home. If these word symbols did not stop
you and you rang the bell, he would greet
you and invite you to see his "cave",
a stone hut he had built himself.



 

Sunyata between Queens and Saints


 Princess (Queen) Margrethe of Denmark
at the Danish Embassy in New Delhi 1960



Lama Govinda with Sunyata i Almora.
They first met at Tagore's home in the 1930s.
 



Another famous Danish Mystic, Martinus, together with Number One No-body








No thing to Teach
No thing to Sell

The Life of a Rare Born Mystic

A simple gardener, a nobody, is playing Beethoven's last quartets on a gramophone
by the River Dart for the world-acclaimed poet, Rabindranath Tagore. By the afternoon's end,
the poet has extended to the Viking bhai (brother) a causual invitation
to leave England to come to India to teach Silence.

"That was 1929"...
The gentle, blue-eyed gardener is sitting on the edge of the couch aboard.
Alan Watts´ old houseboat the S.S. Vallejo in Sausalito. He is in his nineties, but the exotic, rather turban, matching kurta and white
vest looks far younger.

"Now look at that!" he chuckles, bouncing a little on the couch, his long fingers fluttering like birds.
"An utterly simple gardener fellow! Who had escaped "headucation" asked to – come to India to teach Silence!?"

"Can you teach Silence, Sunya?" asks one of the fifteen or so people gathered aboard the Vallejo for the weekly Tuesday evening darshan.

Some are sitting on pillows lotus posture. Some in chairs. A few sprawled on the plank floor. The candles circling Sunya flicker,
A deep stillness takes birth. Finally: "You make me talk-talk-talk," Sunya whispers impishly. I don t know what to do . . .
and I don’t care either." He makes a mock-face and shrugs his shoulders. "What can you do but play’ with words?"..."But Sunyata!"

"It is not what I say but what l am…. that sometimes gets across," declares the turbaned figure.

The tide has come in now. The houseboat rocks as the bay water slaps against the sides. The candle light has cast patterns of moving shadows on the walls and ceiling of the Vallejo. In the distance comes the lone sound of a fog horn.

Someone finally coughs. Another re-adjusts his chair Sunya murmurs: "You are so mental here in the West. All the time thinking-thinking-thinking, wearing out the little brain. In, India there is the Intuitive language, the language of Silence, the language of Being.

He winks at the bald fellow who always asks intellectual questions. "Where is the wisdom we have lost in "nowledge" wonders Sunya and then launches into a recitation from Sir Edwin Arnold’s poetic translation of the Bhagavad Gita:

Never the Spirit was born;
the Spirit shall cease to be never;
Never was time it was not
Ends and beginnings are dreams!
Birthless and deathless and changeless
remaineth the Spirit forever…

He tells now about his going to India following Tagore's: invitation. He had never found a kindred consciousness in the West except in books. Ibsen, Chekov, Shakespeare and the Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse were his constant companions, his "book friends." But he had read, too, the Light of Asia, the, Gita and the Upanishads and while he had no problem or question, he was interested to see if the consciousness he met in these books "was a living thing still."

"Simplicity was my great asset"

And so the gardener goes to India, visiting Tagore at his home, Shantiniketa, the Abode of Peace, and then wandering about by himself. Being alone doesn't bother him. "I am never more myself than when I am alone," says Sunya.

He finds the Indian setting very congenial and his three month holiday stretches into eighteen. "My simplicity was my great asset in India," he explains. "I could be at home with anyone. They would sometimes say, "We don’t feel you are here." Imagine an Indian saying that about a Westerner." His other assets were his adaptability and non-critical attitude. "My mind was not deve1oped, enough to be of any trouble’," Sunyta says,. purposely preening a bit before his audience, many of whom are highly educated.

He goes back to the West to tie up some loose ends and then returns to India, this time for good. He builds a stone hut, Turiya Nivas, at Kalimat, on a ridge about three miles above Almora, a hill town on the Nepalese border looking out on the vast Himalayan mountain ranges one hundred miles to the north.

His name then is Emanuel Sorensen and he is known as "Brother Emanuel." But some call him "Sadhu," "Saint," and even "Bhagavan." In Bombay an Indian boy sees him in a market and calls out: "In the whole world there is nothing but God!"

It is 1936. At the ashram of the great gnani, Ramana Maharshi in Tiruvanmalai, South India, Paul Brunton, author of Search in Secret India, notices an unusual westerner in Indian garb squatting by the ’wall. He motions him forward to introduce the westerner "gone native" to India’s greatest living sage. Later Ramana Maharshi tells Brunton that Brother Emanuel is "a rare born mystic."

"You have done us the greatest honor by becoming one of us"

The Danish mystic returns a year later and, having taken his customary place by the wall, suddenly from out of Ramana’s Silence five English words are thrust upon him: We are always aware Sunyata.

He has had the phrase, ’Awareness is All, but it is not until this moment that the’ Viking bhai realizes that whether there is consciousness or unconsciousness -

Awareness is always.

Returning to his Almora hut, where he lives with no electricity or running water, he puts a second sign on his gate. Below Silence is now the word Sunyata meaning "full, solid emptiness."

He becomes a friend of many: the Jawaharlal Nehru family, Krishna Prem, Sri Anirvan, Lama Govinda and, in actuality, anyone who is open to him. In 1953 he becomes an Indian subject, now taking the name of "Sunyata." Jawaharlal Nehru tells him: "You have done us the greatest honor by becoming one of us."

With his bird and tree friends the rare born mystic continues to live in peace in his stone hut, walking the three miles down to town twice a week for his mail and groceries. But because of Ramana Maharshi’s’ words, Sunya’ now begins’ focusing, on his childhood. He had always had a mystic awareness but had been, "’mature enough not to shout about it." But he didn’t have the expression either. Now words begin to bubble up. Words and phrases he will later call his "Wu language."

Joyous ease, delightful uncertainty, innerstanding, ego conceit of agency, affectionate detachment - the Wu language begins to appear in the voluminous ’us correspondence he carries on with Evans Wentz, Miguel Serrano, Gerald Heard and so many others not as well known but just as mature. He calls it his "scribble," or "mystic clear Viking rhunes."

"Wuji is not a dog"

So many visitors come that he builds other huts for guests but his most favored companions are two dogs. The first is Lady Yami, and when she dies Sri Chow Chu Wuji. A plucky little black-and white dog brought from Tibet in a sack with a tiger cub, Wuji quickly learned to sit on his hind legs to give namaste (blessing) to the local grocers (in exchange for a morsel of meat)

Once Sunya is Invited to sit in ’the silent room " with the Great Mother of India, Ananda Mayee. Wuii goes right along inside too. Ma's disciples rage at the doggish imprudence but Ma waves them off. She gives Sri Wuji careful spiritual scrutiny. Finally, she announces: "Wuji is not a dog." But as Sunya recounts it "She never did say what he was

The "hippie heads" finally find their way to Almora along with the "chief hippie, Timothy." With them come a lot of "tantric tricks,’ ego fuss and shakti business." Sri Wuji eats some poisoned meat and departs for what Sunya calls "the invisible Real." Now the droll and wuful observations of Sri Wuji begins to bubble up in Sunya’s writings. "Ramana Maharshi is Himalayan. The others are only mole hills!" says Wuji.

Comes November, 1973. A fateful time as a group from the Alan Watts Society suddenly bursts into’ his sanctuary. They have been visiting Lama Govinda, Sunya’s neighbor on what is known as "Crank’s Ridge." On their way down their guide has mentioned the, rare born mystic - "He lives what so many of the Masters talk about." The "Yankee guys and girlies" are fascinated. They implore him to visit the States. The group returns to America to find Alan Watts had died the very month they saw Sunya.

Now they want him more than ever. Sunya warns he has "nothing to teach, nothing to sell." The society sends a letter written, not to Sunya, but Sri Wuji saying:

"That’s why we want you." And so 1974 the rare born mystic flies to the New World for a four month visit, giving darshan at Esalen, Claremont College, Palm Springs, etc.

"Such beautiful differences!"

Conditioned to gurus having dazzling intellects, iron wills or abundantly flowing kundalini, very few know what to make of the Silence’ of Sunyata’s full, solid emptiness. Fortunately, some do "see" him and realize what a rare being he really is. And so in 1978 the Alan Watts Society brings Sunya - who is now eighty-eight years old but looks more like a young sixty - to California for good. "California is where the new intuitive, silent race is being born," says Sunya. "And Silence is my specialty."

He doesn’t mean outward silence but inward; a silence of desire, willfulness, ego antics. A very high place to begin, to be sure, but Sunya knows nothing about more

preliminary approaches. "The method is to be still" he says. He favors Ramana Maharshi's selfenquiry of "Who am I?" to come to that stillness.

But he doesn't want to change anyone unless they wish it. "Such beautiful differences!" he exclaims, looking through the faces of those who have come aboard the Vallejo to experience his darshan.

Sunya can be quite trying for mental egojis. For he often repeats himself or seems to talk about nothing. Personal questions he often answers by talking about his own experiences. Many go away exasperated, asking themselves, "Is this guy crazy?" "Did he hear me?" An experiencing of Sunya can call up a lot of anger, distain, or boredom. "He can bore you to death", said one girl hastening down the gangplank, never to be seen again. But for others the answer is there. In the Silence In inner thoughts. In his radiant smile. In Sunya's words.

Every year in April Sunya makes a six-week. "Viking raid on the gangster city of Chicago" to give darshan The Chicagoans call him, "'Mr. Nobody." "Beneath his rainbow-colored shawl, he takes to wearing a big blue badge with that name boldly emblazoned on it. Wuji loves the nobody badge and two or three times during a meeting lifts the shawl to display it.

"In Chicago," exclaims the ego-free mystic to a roomful of egojies, all wanting to be somebody, "they call me 'Mr. Nobody!'"

In July, 1984 Sunya moves into the remodeled home in Fairfax a devotee has bought for him. He calls her now his ,,Dollar Princess" - a person in good graces Bhagavan Shree Dollar - and the house his "palace". He accuses her of "'having fallen in knee-deep' love with Wuji."

Another of Sunya's "would be followers" has a vivid dream that he "has gone his way." When told about it Sunya laughs and says, "Where would I go to? I' Am' is always with you." But in the two week heat wave that comes Sunya almost leaves the body. He calls It a "heatmare" and when asked what it was like he spreads out his huge workman's hands and says, "A spreading out.''

Death of the one eyed goldfish

Now he begins to write and speak of death of "going Home." He has always promised to celebrate his 100th birthday with "one little candle, soma juice, frankincense and celestial music but now coyly says that attendance may be only for those able to leave the body. Other little funny things happen. The top branch of a new sapling in the backyard is broken off. The one eyed goldfish in the fish tank dies. Still, it seems so unlikely Sunya is in such good health...

But on Sunday morning August 5th Sunya leaves his palace for the last time…

According to the Fairfax police report, it is 9:14 a.m., and Sunya is at the corner of Azalea Avenue' and Sir Francis Drake Boulevard. A 1972 tan Toyota approaches from the west. It is travling over thirty miles per hour. The car's driver is a young girl who, as it turns out, lives in the same house as a young man who has been a "Sunyasin" since 1979. The girl is with her boyfriend. Both claim that the man in the turban runs out into the pedestrian crossing. She slams on the brakes, slides, and hits him in the oncoming lane of traffic. The police take Sunya to the Ross Valley Hospital.

The femur bone in his left leg is broken. There are nasty scrapes and bruises but otherwise nothing serious. However, fatty deposits from the broken femur have gotten into the bloodstream. At midnight tile rare born mystic, Mr. Nobody, goes into a coma there are repeated strokes and visible signs of brain damage.

Sunya's condition worsens the next day. An attendant in the intensive care unit says he drew his last breath at 6 p.m., but doctors rush in and put him on life support equipment. Plastic tubing is running out his nose; sensors are taped to his body Behind his bed a line of machines monitor his vital signs. Tapes are played of Sunya reading a friend's letters telling of having gone into the unconscious and then returning. The doctor says he expects Sunya to improve. But how much brain damage will there be?

Friday, five days after the accident Sunya is taken off the life support equipment. Some color has returned to his cheeks and lips. His condition has steadied. But on Saturday his blood pressure drops. His breathing is irritated. The nurse says, "It's only a matter of time now.

Ends and beginnings are dreams

On Monday August 13th at 9 27 a.m., it is finished. Alfred Julius Emmanuel Sorensen, Brother Alfred Sunyata, Sri Wuji Mr. Nobody - the Viking body that took its birth at Aarhus, Denmark In 1890, draws its last breath.

Keeping Sunya´s body alive has been a blasphemy. "A technological crucifixion, murmurs a friend of Sunya's. It's been a black comedy destined to get worse. It seems an autopsy is mandated by State law in all cases of vehicular death unless the coroner rules otherwise. The coroner wants full autopsy He can't be stopped. In cutting open the rare, born mystic who had Spent a lifetime living and proclaiming he was not the mind, not the body the coroner is "astoinshed" to find Sunya had the bodily organs of a man half his age." Declares the coroner: "He might have easily lived until 110 or 115 years of age.

Sunya´ body is cremeted one day after his death and the next evening memorial services are held in the meeting room of his palace Ashes are sent to friends around the world: Denmark, Chile Canada, Belgium, France, Greece and, of course, India. A memorial service is held in Almora on his birthday and a permanent meniorial garden is to be planted at Kalimat.

So ends the incarnation of our beloved Sunyata. In the writings that follow, if read intuitively, a glimpse and perhaps more will be offered of the exstraordinary being who innerstood in joyous ease and affectionate detachment the mystic wholeness of life, "Trinity beyond being" , "the translucent darkness" . All Wu! to his name.

And in the Silence there is ever still the wonderous Sri Wuji intoning…

Never the Spirit was born, 
the spirit shall cease to be- never.
Never was time it was not; 
Ends and beginnings are dreams.
Birthless and deathless and changeless 
remaineth the Spirit forever.
Death has not touched it all.
dead though the form (the house) of it seems!

William Pat Patterson
 



Himalayan flowers and leaves picked by Sunyata 

and presented as a gift to
 
Bharadwaj and then to me

 

Sunyata with one of his two older sisters.