I stayed back at the hotel because I did not have the physical stamina to go the whole way. Plus, the endless steps can shake the strongest knees and mine were not strong at all. Therefore, David went alone. Somewhere along the way, he met another European. There was a moment both of them, he told me, were pondering on stopping and going back down. When an elderwoman passed by in a rather quick gait carrying a crate of soda, they looked at each other and decided to go all the way. They just had to for their masculine pride was facing them.
David said the view was spectacular and when the sun rose, a pyramid symbol was cast against the mist across the valley. Many were ringing the bell for they had been there before, as the guidebooks said would happen. The Sri Lankans have many rituals of giving thanks and blessings for a good life. There is nowhere one could not find this quality. To live each day with gratitude I believe is a key we could benefit to incorporate into our culture. Rituals to remind us not to forget God is there keeping a watchful eye with Love and guiding protection.
When he returned he was not feeling well. I believe he had a mild concussion from descending down the 5200 steps in an alternating thumping motion for three-four hours. He was a bit sunburned as well, as the sun rose quickly upon the mountain and he did not have a hat. I gave him a strong dose of Arnica. He slept through the day and we left for Kandy in the morning. We entered back into a metropolis, which was a huge difference from the places we had been.
Kandy is the capital of Sri Lanka and is its cultural center. It is still the home of the arts, crafts, music, dance and song, which flourished under the patronage of the Kandyan Kings. The great royal city fell to the British in 1815. Despite their influence, it was and still is the seat of much of Sri Lanka's culture. Kandy is the sacred city for the Buddhists. Its focal point is the Dalada Maligawa also known as the temple of the tooth, where the Sacred Tooth Relic of Lord Buddha is enshrined.
We stayed in a wonderful ancient yet modern Hotel. It was a return to the luxury of home but more special. I must admit to being happy to have a real bath in such comfort. I appreciated more from where I came. Yet, poverty surrounded us. India is such a contrast on all levels. The smells, the colors, the food and most of all, the people sleeping on the sidewalks in the cities are quite a paradox.
During our stay in Kandy, we walked from market to market place. There were Snake charmers with baskets, which held their cobras. The sound of their flutes drifted between the tourists and the traffic. The quiet was gone. Commercialism had returned. Humanity's suffering was evident. I was not sorry to leave this thriving yet sacred metropolis and return to the countryside. My rose-colored glasses were being tested.
We drove through their national parks on our way back to Colombo. Along the roadside were small straw huts, which sold Buffalo yogurt and homemade smoked cane syrup in tall brown bottles. No labels, just freshly made and bottled beside the hut while the Buffalo grazed in the fields behind (snorting). They are magnificent animals standing with such held poise. They are huge. In addition, even though I am an American and part Cree I have never seen a Buffalo on the prairie. Never mind one in Sri Lanka! I sat in silence as I ate the yoghurt, which was extremely delicious with the syrup poured over the top.
At some point, we took a ride on an elephant before we returned through one of their National Parks. I love elephants! But our time in Ceylon was drawing to a close. We made our way back to Colombo and had our last Sinhalese curry. I am glad to say that we returned to England without malaria or any other chronic illness. Dr. Sharma was right when he said we didn't need inoculations at least not to go to Sri Lanka. Instead, we focused on strengthening our immune system with his course of Homeopathic Remedies. I returned grateful for the peace and beauty we found amongst the Sinhalese.
Upon our return, I had spread the news to all my friends of how peaceful Sri Lanka was. However, the story clouded as we were watching the news before dinner. The report stunned me. A rebellion broke out between the Tamils and the Sri Lankan government in the north. It actually started just before we left the UK on 23 July 1983, and has gone on for twenty-five years since. Today, I am in Lindos, Greece at an internet café writing this in 2014. To my surprise, I have just discovered the news of this Civil War as I was searching for the spelling of some sites.
I just shook my head in awe as I read all the reports of that time. We had been traveling in a war zone and didn't know it. I feel very fortunate to have had such a wonderful time there when we did. A thought comes that perhaps the Light of Buddha protected us - Perhaps our guardian Angels surrounded us - Perhaps God was keeping a watchful eye. Whichever it was, I am grateful we made it home in one piece.
CHAPTER 43
"WHAT WAS THAT?"
THE WALL PREMIERS
1982
Finally, the film was finished. We all traveled to Cannes and hung out on the beach during the day, watching all the people pass by, waiting for the moment to see the show. The Wall was one of the last films shown in the old Palais; it had seen better days. The Floyd had up-graded the sound system and it was so loud that the paint literally fell off the walls. It fell like fine snow onto our heads, leaving a distinct impression of dandruff on us all. Alan Parker, the film director, is quoted as saying, "I remember seeing Terry Semel, there, who at the time was head of Warner Brothers, sitting next to Steven Spielberg. They were only five rows ahead of me and I'm sure I saw Steven Spielberg mouthing to him at the end when the lights came up, "What the F*** was that?" (1) David and I spent a lot of time together with Bob Geldof and Paula Yates while we were in Cannes. I so admired their dry sense of humor full of intelligence of World Affairs and Philosophy. They were so sharp with their wit and at the same time very down to earth. You couldn't pull the wool over their eyes. We had such a lark cruising the after show parties. When we returned to the UK, Bob and I had regular phone conversations. I remember sitting in our telly room at Hook End Manor slumped in our navy blue comfy chair, feet over the arm, having long conversations with him on the phone. The Floyd had several premiers to attend and Olivia Harrison was very kind in helping me to get some dresses, especially for NYC. She took me to the workrooms of Liz and David Emmanuel, who designed the Lady Di's wedding dress. Liz was there waiting for us to arrive. The afternoon took me into her world of Beauty with each dress. She showed me the collection just recently created for the movie Barry Lyndon. It was a period film and my favorite dress was a 3/4-length lace dress with puff sleeves and bows. Liz organized everything from hairgrips to shoes.
I had hoped to find a couple of dresses. Therefore, Liz took me further into the fantasy when she appeared with a dress that Carmen Miranda would have worn. The shape was very flamenco with a kick skirt on the bottom. It was scarlet with a fuchsia lining which appeared as I walked. I loved it! I was set. Two fabulous dresses for the premiers.
Unfortunately, I went into shock a few days later when Liz presented me with the invoice. It was over £5000.00. I had to let go of Carmen Miranda. Barry Lyndon was much more affordable. The dress had already been custom-tailored for the film. It fit me and was on sale. Carmen was a new creation needing adjusting. At the time, and still, I am not used to having a designer of her fame make a dress for me. Nor could I justify spending so much on a dress for a few evenings no matter how beautiful! I had to turn it down before she started to work on it. I was rather embarrassed, but she totally understood. I think that one of my daughters still has the Barry Lyndon.
Wonderful dresses were important to me because over the years I found it difficult to deal with all the women who fancied David. Women always projected their Goddess onto him while at the same time would project psyche daggers of jealousy at the woman in the way, in other words, Me. In the process, they would analyze me first to see what they were up against, then, judge what their chances were and how to destroy the love connection - hoping David's eyes would shift to them. Fortunately, David seemed oblivious to them. But I knew the energetic game women on the hunt play. I was sensitive a
nd very aware to the feminine wiles. Shocking at first being a small town girl. However, eventually I discovered a way to insulate our relationship and myself.
I started to empower my own beauty with divine dresses. I put myself high up amongst the stars in the heavens beyond reach. I loved the period of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. They were my role model. As a young girl, I used to dance in front of the telly dreaming of the day that I would dance with Fred Astaire. I so wanted to be one of the dancers in a Busby Berkeley production as well, but I knew that time had passed as it was the 80s.
On many afternoons, gliding in my dream, I practiced around the living room floor on Saturdays when my family was out, learning the steps. My imagination was so good that I could feel his arms holding me with his gentle yet guiding support. These movies were my secret life taking me through my teenage years, tap dancing along the way.
My vision regarding the groupies was an easy task to achieve. London was full of amazing antique dresses of the twenties and my collection grew. And it was affordable! I was still sylphlike and they worked perfectly. One day I found what I felt was simply the best, at the Antiquarius Antique Market on the Kings Rd., Chelsea. It was such a find.
It was a dress that made me feel like Cinderella, somehow I felt safe within its gentleness. I loved this dress so much; I could almost sleep in it. It was to the floor, in a most delicate fabric, pale pink with applique blue lace flowers. The cut flowed like a tulip in the wind. I would always put a Ginger touch on my outfits bringing them into the twenty-first century Rock 'n' Roll look. In this case, I wore a mini blue jean jacket and platforms, which allowed me to tower above the groupies and yet be elegant.
It was to become a challenge later holding up the image as my inner journey began to call me to ask the question, "Who Am I?" It was one thing to create a wall of protection and yet another when it began to separate me from David and myself. It seemed as time went on all of us went deeper and deeper into the story of the making of the Wall.
Our own walls were being built, that not only isolated the band from each other, but also within our personal lives. Sometimes I just wish I wasn't drowning in it at the time. Perhaps things might have been different? A friend once said to me, "Ginger, when those thoughts arise, Take life as it is - then make it special." That wisdom has helped me so much to accept the twists and turns in life and create Beauty as the journey still goes on. Wish I had known that wisdom at the time.
CHAPTER 44
GILMOURLAND
AT HOOK END MANOR
Back home in Gilmourland, it was time to readjust and reflect upon our future. We had a full family life and many outside stresses to harmonize. My meditation room was my retreat each morning after the children went to school. I tried to establish at least thirty minutes to myself every day, which Dr. Sharma recommended. At first, it was hard for the household to adjust to not having twenty four-seven access to me. Eventually they did and I got used to not feeling guilty.
One of the sweetest moments happened on the weekends when the children were home. They would often sit outside of the door. Sometimes whispering. Sometimes not speaking. Just sitting, waiting, quietly, but I knew they were there. I could hear their breathing. I could hear them shuffling. Alice would try to silence Clare and Sara when they started to talk.
She would whisper, "Shhh. Mom is meditating!" Then Clare would repeat it to Sara but a bit louder, "Shhh, Mom's Med... di... dating." I could feel that came with a nudge of command from an older sibling. But she didn't quite get the pronunciation right. I had to smile and continued to hold the space of respect despite that it had broken my meditative focus. Sweetly.
When the weather was warm, I often took Sara for a ride on my rather old Victorian-like bicycle, which I loved. It was black, rusty, with a wicker basket and bell (as I have mentioned before).There was a wonderful tree lined road, which led further into the countryside. It was as though we were riding back in time in a Beatrice Potter book. Sara with her blonde hair and striped scarf blowing in the wind, as we rode along weathering the chilled wind. The fresh air and the beauty of the lambs in the field touched me, happily. One day she asked, "Mom, are you a side kick?" I held my chuckle within as I answered her question. "I don't think so Sara,"grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I have often wondered where she got that one from but the memory always returns with a warm tender smile. Children say the darnedest things.
When we were home, bicycling on the weekends to a family lunch, with friends, at the local pub became a regular affair. Sometimes we would walk if there were many children over. Sometimes we even took Joe and Lisa with us because dogs were allowed outside. Some English pubs allowed them inside too. When I first came to England, I loved English beer on tap. I grew to love a pint with Roses Lime juice on a hot day, but No longer could I drink any alcohol just Perrier with Lime.
Bluebell season was my favorite time of the year. Their electric blue bells lined the roadside amongst the fading daffodils. Flowers, flowers were everywhere in our garden. Our gardener, Henry, filled the beds near the greenhouses with almost every Dahlia imaginable and we had so many vegetables I often ran out of room in the freezer. So I took up making jam, preserves, green tomato chutney and pickled onions in order not to waste anything. I was re-creating Nannan's pantry of my childhood without realizing it. I would like to find her recipe for Rivel cake, but I fear it went with her to heaven.
On mornings with dew, I walked barefoot creating patterns in the grass. Dr. Sharma said it was good for me as it stimulated my energy systems. After Clare's pregnancy, it was a way to maintain my health. Each morning before breakfast, the girls would sit at our telly window in their nighties watching me. Some days, I walked fast because it was so cold! Other days I could walk in a Zen fashion feeling each step as my foot touched the earth. Other days I would frolic just for them, in the morning dew shining in the sunlight.
Today this is normal amongst many people for there has been a lot of study, which has changed our awareness about our connection to the energies of Mother Earth. Walking on the grass in the morning and hugging a tree is highly recommended because the earth not only gives but also takes. It takes our stress levels and fills us with clear healthy energy. I dare say many thought that I was crackers then! Ho Hum. The life of a forerunner. But the memory of my blonde beauties sitting in the window is special to me, and we often chuckle together about their Mom's antics.
CHAPTER 45
MEETING MRS. TWEEDIE
1983
I had been having regular Alexander Technique Lessons with Diana in Nottinghill Gate. Alexander lessons strengthened my posture from the weight of my pregnancies. I would walk from our flat on Mc Gregor Rd. to hers each week. In the spring, I passed a typical English Rose Garden. I would stop for a moment to allow the fragrance to soften my heart. I was allergic to most perfumes, except that of roses. I had worn the essential oil of roses for years. One afternoon as I was taking in their fragrance, I realized that each time in the future when my children smelled a rose they would think of Mom. Sweet thought. So I would wander in this sense of Beauty to my appointment.
The Alexander Technique is an educational tool, which helped me identify and release areas of tension and imbalances that were restricting my freedom of movement. In doing so, it allowed my whole body to realign itself. In fact, these lessons went further through the act of directing the body to release muscular tension, it actually helped me to let go of habits of thought, which contributed to build up of tension in the first place.
With the Alexander Technique, I felt a new sense of lightness coupled with increased freedom of movement and a sense of easy contentment. Often, they gave me a sense of renewed happiness. Becoming aware of myself in action was a most rewarding and fascinating experience. Alexander is quoted as saying:
"Stop Doing the Wrong thing and the Right thing will Do Itself." (1) As I was about to leave one afternoon, my eyes noticed a book lying on Diana's table called the Chasm of Fire. I asked her about
the book as I picked it up to read the back cover. She said it was about a Russian woman, Irina Tweedie. It was herspiritual journey with her Sufi Master Guruji. The hairs on my arms stood up while I listened, which was an indication for me to inquire further about her. She lived in Willesden, on Teignmouth Rd., in North London, and she allowed people to come there in the afternoons to meditate and have tea. Diana said that she goes there every Wednesday. I asked if I could go with her, but she said that I should go alone. Later, I discovered that this was a spiritual test, that is, for me to make the journey to see Mrs. Tweedie unaccompanied.
So that is what I did. I went alone. To my surprise, just as I was about to knock at the door, Mrs. Tweedie opened it. She was an elegant woman with gray hair neatly gathered behind her head. She had the deepest blue eyes that if one looked long enough one could touch heaven. I was held for a moment in the presence of her radiance and depth of her greeting. I knew a truly great being stood before me and a new cycle in life was about to begin. She looked at me with a slight smile, gesturing with one of her hands, making room for me to enter. She said, "Welcome, Please come in, We have been waiting for you." At first, I thought this was a bit strange but my mind stood captured and did not question her statement.
Memoirs of the Brightside of the Moon Page 21