We returned to the UK exhausted and needing a break from that part of our life. But such a gift was not forthcoming. One morning I awoke paralyzed in pain from the waist down. I pleaded with David to contact Dr. Sharma. During the tour, Pauline White, Snowy's wife had told me of him and recommended him highly. I had no idea why I wanted to see him. I just did. Later, I was to find out that Dr. Sharma was not only an orthodox trained doctor, but also was an Auyervedic, Homeopath and Naturopath (all alternative healing methods). Of course in those times I had no idea what that meant. I only knew that Pauline said he was brilliant! David found him and arranged an appointment immediately, but he first took me to an osteopath whose treatment eased the pain enough to get to London.
Dr. Sharma's practice was in Seymour Place, London. He was from India and in his office hung a painting of Ramana Maharishi, his guru. He took my pulses and looking at us from behind his glasses and white beard he said, "She should go to my private Naturopathic hospital, Ludshott Manor. IMMEDIATELY!" This was located in the Surrey countryside. My time there was to be an experience that opened a doorway to my higher self, my path to God. To realize that such a thing existed was enough to cope with at that stage. Dr. Sharma put me onto a diet of grapefruit, chamomile tea and other therapies that were extremely new to me. In addition, I was not to have any contact with the outside world, which included David. I had no idea this was part of it. Had Pauline experienced a separation away from Snowy? I wondered, as I waited to hear from David. Why hasn't he called? Was Alice all right? Not knowing he had tried. At the same time, I was in pain and trying to cope. Later David told me how much this worried him. He felt powerless.
I felt like a shivering rabbit caught under a barbed wire fence not knowing how to get away. Apparently, I really shocked my body when I became a vegetarian so quickly, coupled with me stopping drugs without the supervision of a qualified doctor. I was in major Detox! I learned a lot about this process as a result (Unfortunately, the hard way).
Ludshott was a haven of peace. The garden surrounded by multiple evergreens whose scent filled the morning dew as I walked amongst them. Many mornings I sat alone in my room watching the raindrops on the window in the silence. I had regular Shiatsu treatments with Michael Skipwith, who has become a close and trusted friend. Some of the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to link together as he guided me in how to meditate. Each morning I would go to the small chapel and listen to that small voice, which was starting to awake. The sunlight was returning.
During those treatments, my heart opened, freeing me from the tensions I had collected. Michael referred me to many sacred teachings, especially Ramana Maharishi who was an influence in his life. Michael had spent many months in Ramana's ashram (spiritual retreat) and knew its quiet truth. Ramana's main premise was for us to ask, "Who am I." It emphasized that there was a place beyond all thoughts of such Beauty, but was covered with veils of illusion.
Once one touches that place, all beliefs of what is important, change. Your values and priorities change, influencing and inspiring your choices. You no longer need to seek to be kind, caring and loving because you discover that is what you truly are. Instead of being a human "doing,"you become a human "being." "Who AM I" reveals that kindness and compassion is the true nature of us all.
Later, with my health restored, Michael took me to a lecture of Sir George Trevelyan, founder of the Wrekin Trust. Sir George is considered the Father and Herald of the New Age that we know now. There he stood tall, gray hair, chatting with someone. He had an aura of such purity and majesty of heart. Michael knew him well and introduced me. Sir George embraced me. I lost my linear awareness within that embrace. I moved out of my body into the universe. Literally, I saw myself traveling through the stars. Where was I? Just in that moment, he shook me out of it. He knew where I had gone and I didn't have my seat belt fastened nor did I know how to land.
We were to meet again many years later at the home of the Baroness Di Pauli in St John's Wood. It was a gathering of great philosophical minds, wise elders. During tea, I found the moment when I could relate the story to him. With a glint in his eye, Sir George said to me, "I so love this modern era. An elder chap is allowed to give young ladies a hug and a kiss on the cheek without it being an offense." He was in his late 70s.
When I returned home from Ludshott, Dr. Sharma put me on a vegan diet with lots of remedies. I was inspired to take yoga lessons and meditate. David was super. I remember how he tried to meditate with me, but it didn't last long. He even stopped eating meat at home. But the troubles with the band were still growing. David started to grow more silent and I am sure my change along a more spiritual line added to his pressure. We were so young and caught in many rounds of growing tensions. He tried to honor all the changes on the practical level because of my health. Something stirred like a little pinprick in his side festering.
No Tomatoes, No Peanut Butter was part of Doctor's orders. Tomatoes are part of the deadly nightshade family and I could only eat them if they were homegrown with no pesticides. Peanut butter is not a nut, but a legume and it clogs the system if eaten in quantity. I had to be especially careful. No more peanuts and beer at the pub. I didn't even take aspirin or have any drinks with caffeine, only herbal teas. Not even Coca-Cola with my pizza. "Pizza? Coca-Cola? Peanut butter? Cheese? What is that?" was the question for years. Then there was the hurdle of asking for a glass of sparkling water at a party. That was a more difficult one for everyone to accept. Looking back, one could say Dr. Sharma was a forerunner of eating organic and so was I. In a land of meat and potatoes, it was not easy.
Meditating was a jewel. It helped me to breathe through any pain that life challenged me with, from headaches to indigestion. It helped me to stay in contact with the breath of Life instead of the shortness of panic breathing. Luckily, a few years later Dr. Sharma said that it was time for me to start eating 10% rubbish foods and return to eating vegetarian since I ran the risk of getting too precious. Too precious, for a Rock 'n' Roll existence, especially as there was limited access to the foods I needed away from home, while on tour, or holiday in foreign countries.
David seemed ok with it all, for he would eat what I cooked at home. Many have made humorous comments that he would eat meat when I wasn't looking. And Emo said that he would secretly go to the pub for a steak and chips. I only noticed this when we went to a restaurant. I didn't require him not to eat meat. I was a great cook. And as time went by, people didn't even notice the difference. It was a difficult period for vegetarians in those days, needless to mention being a vegan. Eating out became more a social affair for me, a gathering of people I loved. I was healthier and that is all that mattered.
Most people, including David, had little understanding of its virtues. Even David's parents, Doug, a geneticist, and Sylvia, a film editor, both from Cambridge came to me upset one day. They said that I was going to kill their son and their granddaughter, Alice. We had on-going discussions. I give them credit for they did their research and eventually adopted a very similar way of eating. Time passed and I became more knowledgeable about food combining and a more balanced way of living. Sadly, it did start to weigh upon our relationship.
At first, I think I was so excited and full of beans that perhaps I was rather too much to handle for others who still were into drugs and hard living. I felt I had found the elixir of life and wanted to share. I wanted to tell the world, which Americans tend to do when inspired. The British and Europeans are different, and Life kept showing me how to walk the talk in their world. I was learning how Silent proof of harmony, peace and joy really sells the story. But at the time in England, being inspired along a spiritual path, including being vegetarian or vegan was rather challenging for most except for the Beatles, who we were to get to know many years later.
I find it amazing, while writing this book, what Beauty and yet what Challenges we experienced. Amazingly, we are still alive. With each page, I have a greater understanding and Love for life, for the journey.
And I am grateful for all the moments we shared together including the band. I have come to know that the path I follow is an ART. It is beyond the need for words until someone asks. Even then, "Talk doesn't necessarily cook the rice!" So I am sure I broke a few eggs along the way. Sorry.
As I looked at a photo of the band this morning, I had tears and an ache in my heart for the Love that is still there despite it all. We shared so many moments. I appreciate them and don't miss them. How could I when it was my life? I am just grateful. In addition, I am also grateful for what I live now. I am grateful for my own creative flowering, which finds earth, water and sunlight to grow within each moment. And writing this book of memories is only the beginning of another cycle being born, showing me the way to my soul purpose.
CHAPTER 29
THE BUILDING OF THE WALL
We returned to the UK to discover that the Floyd was in a potential financial disaster. Norton Warburg was proving not to be the best advisor for our financial affairs. Since Dark Side, we were in need of advice and turned to Andrew Warburg. I remember David saying once that he really didn't want to go into having investments. He preferred just to bank the money and wanted to keep it simple. However, the sums got too great to keep it humble. Therefore, unlike other bands who were taken by their managers, which the Floyd had under control, their accountant took them. It seemed to sneak in under the floorboards catching them a bit off guard. Norton Warburg eventually crashed and Andrew left the country ASAP.
The band had to find a way out of the mess and they were unprepared. In the past, they had a rhythm of touring, recording, touring and time off for writing. They would come together and an album would be born from their collaboration. This time it was different. David, Nick and Rick had worked on solo projects previously to Animals. Roger was the only one with ideas on the back burner that were ready for use immediately. He had two suggestions, which might be possible for album projects: Bricks in the Wall and The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking.They met at Roger's for days. All they did was argue. "No, that is awful. No, that one is terrible." I can't speak for the others, but David returned home grumpy. I don't blame any of them, as it was a huge problem to resolve. They were on the edge of a sinking ship worth maybe £12,000,000, payable to the taxman. And the bank balance was low thanks to Warburg's bad investments. Finally, after much discussion and debate, they decided to work towards developing The Wall.
We returned to Lindos that summer. We stayed in Auntie Mary's house, the Museum, in order to oversee the conversion of our house on the other side of the village. David had been playing the demo tape over and over throughout our holiday. It was excruciating. Roger's pain was so deep. I will never forget when, one afternoon, David emerged from the sala (a Lindian living room) shaking his head saying, "I don't think I can really work with this. I have no idea how this could become something people would enjoy listening to. It is just Angst!" But he had to in order to rescue us all from our financial predicament. He had no choice. We thought. So the real work would begin back in the UK in the autumn.
One of the highlights of that summer was when Simon and Garfunkel along with Carrie Fisher and friends, arrived into Lindos bay in a HUGE cabin cruiser. Carrie and Simon were on their honeymoon. Garfunkel gifted them with a Mediterranean Cruise so they headed for Lindos to visit Melissa who was their good friend. Dixie and Alice otherwise called Dixie and Pixie, were waddling up the hill from the beach behind them chatting under their breath, "She doesn't look like Princess Leia!" "No, she doesn't have any buns!" Oh, out of the mouths of babes! We were all invited to hang out on the boat each day. Carrie wanted to go shopping in town so Emo volunteered to take her around. He was staying with us that summer at the Museum. Like us, Lindos was becoming his home in the summer. Rick and Linnie Wills (David's bass guitarist from Joker's Wild) were also staying with us with their first child, Nicky. As Emo and Carrie were turning one of the corners, they all met. Nicky exclaimed pulling on Linnie's skirt, "Oh look Mommy. It's Princess Leia!" Someone recognized her without her buns and white dress. Emo said they all smiled and said, "See ya later at dinner,"and walked away on their shopping adventure. Carrie commented to Emo later, "I haven't been called that for a while." So Star Wars had come to Lindos. We had a very grand dinner to celebrate their arrival and our growing friendship. Emo sat next to Carrie. Being a Star Wars fan, Emo raved how wonderful the movies were. How David and I had gotten him premier tickets when it first came to London. It meant so much to him to think there would be two sequels. He said she freaked! She felt trapped. She went on to share a lot of stories of how that movie had compounded upon her life. Some good, but most troubled. Here he was expressing his love for the movies and instead came face to face with the reality of the star who brought so much joy in his life. It was sad.
As I relate this story, I feel this too has been our challenge as it is with most people launched into fame. The story plays over and over. The temptation to go down with the pressure, the adulation and the lack of your own life is great. We were sometimes drowning trying to hold on to the Beauty and Love in our heart. We walked hand in hand in front of the adoration caught between the glamour and "Who am I?" Caught between the ART and the LIE.
CHAPTER 30
ANCIENT HISTORY
UPON THE SEAS
Summer 1978
This year we made a trip to Turkey at the invitation of our dear friend Christian Mouzon. The idea would give us some light relief from the pressures that were building back home. Christian was in charge of getting Sandro Somare's boat, "Plimiri,"ready for the summer when he and his family would come to Lindos. He was like a member of their family and usually spent his winters with Sandro in Tuscany, Italy.
We had wanted to go to Turkey for years, for our friends in Lindos shared many stories filled with sparkle in their eyes of great adventures. Alice was safe with our trusted nanny, Jeannie Bell, at Aunty Mary's in Lindos, allowing us to go away for a week. So we said, "Yes." Our plan was to leave from Rhodos and go down the coast of Turkey, which we could see on a clear day. Its magic called to us. Our first port of call was Marmaris for that is where we had to have our passports stamped before entering Turkey, even by water.
Marmaris is considered the Saint Tropez of the country, and at night, the bay is lit with the bright lights of many restaurants, hotels and discos. Eastern music mixed with Western songs traveled together through the warmth of the air as we ate on the waterfront, on the night of our arrival. Christian was familiar with the city and took us deep into its heart to its marketplace. Carpets and embroideries hung from the stalls floating in the light breeze. The air smelled of spices, dried fish and the dung of chickens and donkeys. Turkey is a feast of colors, even the boats. The vibrancy of each color was different from Greece. I got high just looking at the blue paint of the tables mixed with Turquoise and yellows on the chairs.
There was a man begging, sitting on the dirt below one of the stalls who had his fingers cut off since he had been caught stealing. I felt pity and wanted to help but David pulled me away speaking under his breath, "Don't. You can't do anything" as he led me in the opposite direction. I whispered in a tone that expressed my feelings, "But it's tragic! It's awful!" I really don't know what I could have done anyway. This was just one of the ways the law dealt with crime in Turkey. There are worse stories, I was told later. It was a shocking eye opener, especially as this occurs in many cultures. It was such a condemnation of a person's future. What future? A life without fingers? These things really disturbed me. An inner voice shouted, "Humanity needs to find more Compassion, more Wisdom! We need help!" As the sun grew higher and mid-day approached, we found shade in a café. We ordered the traditional sage tea, Ata-chi, which came served in a metal teapot the shape of Aladdin's Lamp. The waiter first brought us little narrow glasses about two inches high embellished with gold designs and a plate of Turkish delight sweets. Lifting the teapot high above the glasses, he proceeded to pour the tea without losing a drop. This custom enhanced its fl
avor as the tea descended from above traveling through the air greeting each glass. It was so refreshing that I bought the teapot and glasses and have made it since often.
Before we left the market, we filled our baskets with fresh vegetables, eggs, water, bread, and all the extra staples we would need for our journey. We bought a few carpets to take back to England, and a painted blue basket with flowers. Haggling in the market was a custom in which I was not skilled. In America, the price was the price. In Turkey, you gained favor if you did succeed in securing a cheaper price especially if you were good at it. If not, the price went up or the sale did not happen. They had a skill on how to play the tourists. Christian was our captain and kept us straight in matters of bartering. He had been there on many adventures in the past and knew the ropes.
Memoirs of the Brightside of the Moon Page 14