OUT ON a LIMB

by Shirley Maclaine

  “Well,” I hesitated. “Well, look. For starters, I think we have all become slaves to our own fear. We keep expecting that we’ll run into bad trouble to the point where we almost get a sense of satisfaction when things do turn to crap.”

  Bella put her hands in her lap and stared at her midnight salad. “Yeah, well,” she said, “so things turn to crap. That’s what politicians have to deal with.”

  “Could it be that they’re so busy coping with the mess that they don’t take the time to figure out how to turn it off?”

  Bella shrugged. “This isn’t something you can argue from generalities. You’ve had enough to do with politics to know that. So what is it you’re getting at?”

  “Fear, Bella. Fear. Fear of death; fear of self-made holocaust; fear of the future, or fear that we won’t have one because we are literally, for the first time in history, capable of destroying the world; fear of much smaller things like losing our jobs, or our families, or the regard of friends and neighbors …”

  “Now, wait a minute. Being afraid is perfectly natural—in some situations it’s downright healthy. Mankind wouldn’t have got where it has without fear.”

  “Okay, right. But by the same token, mankind wouldn’t have got where it has if it had always let fear dictate its actions. I’m not saying it’s wrong to be afraid, but that it’s dangerous to let fear control our lives. Plus the very important fact that, to me now, most of these fears are unnecessary.”

  “How come?”

  “Well, frankly Bella, to me, being certain about the actual existence of the soul, I mean as a reality, has made all the difference. It’s not something I came to easily. But that’s where I am now, so I believe that everyone has, or rather is, a soul, of divine origin, and one that has lived many times before and will live again.”

  “Oh,” she said, twisting her hands, “we should just sit back and leave it all to cosmic design or something?”

  “No,” I said. “I wouldn’t put it that way. I guess that it is really a question of tending to one’s own self and the people we come in contact with as kindly and tolerantly as possible, knowing that what we put out will come back. I guess I’m saying that each of us has to start with ourselves, because that’s all that we can really control in the first place.”

  “Does that mean you’re opting out of involvement in politics, the women’s liberation movement and everything?”

  “No way. On the contrary. If anything, I’m going to be even more concerned and involved.”

  “So, what’s different then?”

  “What’s different is how I feel about it. I’m looking at the whole thing from a new perspective, one that doesn’t include fear. Fear is what has turned us all off, alienated us from ourselves and from each other. So many people are indifferent, apathetic—my God, you know yourself what a struggle it is to get the voting population to the polls. A helluva lot of people are simply too afraid to care, or believe that it wouldn’t make any difference if they did. They don’t realize that it is themselves they don’t dare care about; it’s themselves they’re opting out on. Instead, they bitch about what the other guy is doing. It always comes back to the individual. Yet they’re the ones who, out of fear, shut themselves off. All other life, on earth anyway, flourishes with ‘feelings.’ Feeling, caring, has become our most precious missing dimension. As far as I’m concerned, non-believers in spirituality, the soul, reincarnation, whatever, can start right there, by letting their imaginations help them to care; and if they never got any further, the world would still be a better place. But what I myself really believe is that if each of us could rid ourselves of fear by honestly understanding our own spirituality, by acknowledging it and achieving a higher awareness, that the ripple effect would be astonishing.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. Give me an example,” said Bella. “I mean, with the world going the way it is, who is an example of that?”

  I thought a moment, and almost involuntarily I said, “Anwar Sadat, for one, or Martin Luther King, or Buddha, or Christ, or Mother Teresa, or Gandhi. All these people personally believed in a higher cosmic design which enabled them to take up a positive belief in human potential. They emphasized the positive. Also, Thomas Jefferson, Thoreau, Voltaire—and a lot more.”

  “Yeah,” said Bella. “But what are you saying they believed in?”

  “A kind of higher harmony; that they were part of a larger design that was not related only to this life experience.”

  “Are you saying that they all believed in reincarnation?”

  I sipped my red wine, remembering all that I had read on the founding fathers of the American revolution; their involvement with mystical sects and teachings, and the existence of the soul.

  “Not necessarily,” I said. “But Jefferson and Washington and Ben Franklin—in fact, most of the men who signed the Bill of Rights and drew up the Constitution, said they wanted to form a new republic based on spiritual values. And those values they believed in went all the way back to the beliefs of Hindu scriptures and Egyptian mysticism. That’s why they put the pyramid on the dollar bill—in fact, the dollar and the Great Seal are full of spiritual symbols that link way back to long before the revolution. And all those pre-Christian beliefs had to do with reincarnation.”

  “Show me the research,” said Bella.

  “Of course I will. I just mention it because they were our original politicians, yet none of the people in politics these days seem to even know the origins of their democracy. I can see that they’re distracted because everything is in such a mess, but if some of them did acquaint themselves with what our forefathers actually intended, if they could identify with the early principles, that might influence how they vote now and what priorities they find most important. They might even manage to stop the destructive course we’re on.”

  Bella lit a cigarette and tossed the match into an ashtray. “So you believe that humans fit into a larger plan than most of us think we do. Our ideas and beliefs are off the mark and that’s why we’ve screwed up the world so badly?”

  “Right. Except it’s not ‘most of us.’ Most of the world’s people do believe in reincarnation, in a larger plan. It’s Westerners who leave out the important part.”

  “And that important part is what?”

  “The pre-existence of the soul—the fact that we have lived many times and will live many more as the laws of cause and effect work themselves out.”

  Bella considered awhile, pulled on the cigarette, blew out a deep breath. “Listen,” she said, “I was educated in the orthodox Jewish tradition and a deep belief in a spiritual being is not foreign to me.” I had never heard her say that before. “But,” she went on, “believing in the soul is one thing. Believing in reincarnation of the soul is another. You might be right in what you can sense and what you believe, but I can’t go along with it. I’ll tell you one thing though—I wish I could.”

  I felt tears well up in my eyes. “Why, Bella?”

  “Because,” she said slowly, “then I could believe that everything was going to turn out okay, even if I did nothing about it. I wouldn’t have to fight so hard to make things better. Maybe I need the challenge. But, my darling, if people like me didn’t fight to do our part it just might not turn out well. You see?”

  I blew my nose. “I guess so,” I said. “Yes, I see. It could be that all of us have our own roles to play, but the challenge would be there anyway, I think. Or maybe this time around, it’s necessary to you to perceive it that way. I know that I must have been many different people in many different times. That’s why I feel so at home in so many places in the world. I usually feel I’ve been there before. And I’m just learning to trust these feelings that my intellect might say were ridiculous. The point is, if all this happened to me, then it has to have happened to others. In some strange way we may all know each other. How many times have you met someone and had an instant recognition of what we even call ‘a kindred spirit’?”

  “Well
, yeah.” Bella sounded careful. “And you are saying that, from your point of view, you believe that we are all part of each other—and also part of a larger design?”

  “Right. That’s where disincarnate beings come in. If I lived many lifetimes, then what was I doing between each lifetime? I mean, where was I? If my soul energy went to spend a while in the ether, as the mystical texts suggest, then what would be the difference between me in-between lifetimes and Tom McPherson now who says he is an entity speaking through Kevin? I mean, maybe there are all kinds of dimensions of reality of which the earth plane is only one.”

  Bella looked at me searchingly. “What I’m trying to understand,” she said, “is how you got into all of this. How did all this happen? I know you and all those other famous and intelligent people who believe as you do weren’t bananas. So what is going on?”

  I leaned back in my chair. “I don’t know, Bellitchka. Maybe life is a cosmic joke on us. We take it all so seriously. We try to legislate morality instead of living it, and go around judging everybody who thinks differently than we do when maybe there is no such thing as one reality. Maybe everything is real—earth plane, astral plane, plain plane, I don’t know. I just know that from what I have learned, felt, and read, I can’t ignore it. And why should I? Some of the greatest minds this planet has ever seen believed in what I’m just beginning to understand. So I’m going to go on investigating, not only because I’m just plain curious but because it’s also making me happy.”

  Bella smiled. “Okay, that I can go along with. So tell me what difference all this is really making in your life. That’s what I’m concerned about.”

  I thought a bit, trying to find the words that would reassure my friend. Finally I said, “Bella, it’s strange, but knowing that there is a law of cause and effect in operation makes me very aware of how precious every single moment of every single day can be.”

  “How does that work?” she questioned,

  “Nothing—literally nothing—is insignificant. Every thought, every gesture, everything I say and do, has an energy attached to it which is hopefully positive. In the back of my head I am constantly aware that harmony does exist, I mean, as a real energy, a resource I can draw on. I am aware that everything has a reason for happening. Also, I know that whatever good I can do, whatever fun I can share, whatever contribution I make, even if it’s to say ‘Good morning!’ to someone, will, somewhere, sometime, come back to me. It’s not a matter of making Brownie points. It just feels a whole hell of a lot better in me. It gives me a kind of feeling of living in a universal now. Every now second becomes important. In fact, I think I might be seeing in a—what—a whole way, that the past, present and future are interdependent, are really what amounts to the same thing.”

  “And you’re not going to opt out and go away and meditate in a hut?”

  I laughed. “No, I promise you, no. I had to stay away while I searched out this stuff. It has taken me years to get to this point. But now, well—it’s an added dimension, a tremendous joy, a well of energy for me. It means I can be more fully involved than before. But now I don’t see life as a battlefield. On the contrary, I believe it can be a paradise, and what’s more, we should expect it to be. That is reality to me now. Dwelling on the negative simply contributes to its power.”

  “But my darling, the negative exists. It has to be dealt with, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure. What I’m saying is that a lot of it exists because we make it so. We need to believe in a positive reality right here on earth because the believing will help to make it so. That’s the real power we have for change. Look, Bella. Use nature as a guidepost. There’s no morality or judgment in nature. Sure, animals kill—for food, not because they hate, not for ‘sport.’ I don’t see nature judging our destruction of it. It just disappears if we destroy it. But it comes back again, doesn’t it? Maybe in another form? So the real lesson in all of this is that life is eternal regardless of how mindlessly we behave. And I believe that souls, invisible entities, are a part of the cyclical harmony of nature. None of it ever dies; it just changes form. If you want to think of it that way, it could be that this is science, not mysticism.”

  The waitress came with the check.

  “Well,” said Bella, “I guess you were never able to do anything by halves, were you?”

  “Nope. I guess not. And I guess that what I’m really getting at is to be whole. For the first time in my life I’m beginning to understand what being whole really means. Particularly when it involves the recognition of everything you’ve ever been, which leads you to the realization of whom you are now. I don’t worry about the past and I don’t worry about the future. I think, act, live for the present, which the past created, and which is creating the future. It’s like Krishnamurti says—each person is a universe. If you know yourself, you know everything.”

  “Oh my God,” said Bella. “Is that the way you get to be a Senator?”

  “I don’t know. Is being a Senator better than being you?”

  “Are you judging me, Madame Nature?”

  I took her hand and patted it. “Sorry. I’m still learning …”

  We walked out together into the clear Manhattan night. I looked up and searched the stars above us as we strolled together, hand in hand. Neither of us talked. We walked for a few blocks before Bella decided to hail a cab.

  “Well, my darling,” she said, “maybe there is a way to avoid disaster for the world …”

  “Hey, Bella,” I said, “do you know the etymology of the word ‘disaster’?”

  “Jesus,” she said, “now what?”

  “Well, it comes from the Latin word disastrum and the Greek word disastrato. Broken down, dis is defined as ‘torn away from or apart from,’ and astrato means ‘the stars.’ Therefore a person who is ‘disastrato’ has been separated from the heavenly bodies or, torn from the stars. He then experiences what the Latin language describes as disastro—a disaster.”

  Bella looked up into the sky, then back at me, and blinked. “I can’t deal with it,” she said. “Just so long as it’s right for you.” She kissed me and I watched her climb into a cab and barrel down Second Avenue.

  I walked back to my apartment, looking up until I found the North Star, the Big Dipper, and then the Little Dipper. Then I looked for the Pleiades, the Seven Sisters. I remembered reading about the Pleiades in the Book of Job. I remembered the Pleiadean connections in the research I had done that seemed to indicate a relationship with the Great Pyramid, the Incas, the Mayans, the Greeks, the American Indians, and the East Indians. I stopped again to look up to the Pleiades cluster and tried to imagine, in terms I could understand, how far away those stars really were. Scientists said it was impossible to cross such distances, that one would die of old age before getting there. But wasn’t thought faster than the speed of light? Would it ever be possible to travel by the projection of one’s own thought? Could thought control and propel physical matter? Maybe that, in the end, would be the connection between the spiritual mind and technology—making the discovery that the power of the spiritual mind is the highest power of all. Learning to work with it would develop an even higher technology. In other words, if we learned to raise our spiritual thought, perhaps we could locate our bodies wherever we desired them to be.

  I walked on toward my apartment, thinking of all the human beings who had been so much a part of my new way of thinking. I thought of Bella and what she meant to me with her combustible, challenging personality, so consistently and determinedly intent on making the world a better place.

  I thought of Mike and his good-hearted skepticism, of Gerry and his humanitarian political solutions, of Kevin and his shining pure faith, of Cat and Anne Marie and my friends in Sweden who had helped show me another world of reality. Then I thought of David and wondered if I would ever see him again.

  Watching the crosstown bus chug to a stop at the corner of my apartment building, I saw a taxi careen around in front of it, running the red light. A
nd I laughed at the insane, sweet chaos that is Manhattan.

  I took a final look at the stars, went upstairs, and found the stones that David had delivered to me from the Masai tribesman years before: stones which I had had set in a pyramidal shape, long before that held any significance for me, long before David meant anything to me or I even knew who he was. I cradled the pyramidal shape in my hand.

  Then I sat down and began to draft a book. I wrote until five o’clock the next morning.

  Maybe one day I would take a trip to the Pleiades and see what was on the other side. Would it be as full of wonder as the inner journey I was just beginning?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SHIRLEY MACLAINE was born and raised in Virginia. She began her career as a Broadway dancer and singer, then progressed to featured performer and award-winning actress in television and films. She has traveled extensively around the world, and her experiences in Africa, Bhutan, and the Far East formed the basis for her first two bestsellers, “Don’t Fall Off the Mountain” and You Can Get There From Here. Her investigations into the spiritual realm were the focus of Out on a Limb, Dancing in the Light, It’s All in the Playing and Going Within, all of which were national worldwide bestsellers. In her intimate memoir Dance While You Can, she wrote about aging, relationships, work, her parents, her daughter, and her own future as an artist and a woman. My Lucky Stars: A Hollywood Memoir, published in 1995, offers a candid and searching look at her forty years in Hollywood and the stars who taught her about show business and about life.