Memoirs of the Brightside of the Moon

by Ginger Gilmour

  Eventually word got out. Small groups of people passing by would stop and listen. On the night of the full run-through, they had an audience. It was a great private gig as it was greeted by the evening breeze and the color of dark blue. From a distance, the light show seeped out of the cracks of the warehouse making it look like something out of ET or Batteries Not Included. The rumble of the airplanes landing added to the sound effects.

  We were renting a wonderful home on Lake Ontario. Each evening the children and I would walk to the edge, climb down to the jetty with bread and feed the birds. The lake spread out before us for miles empty. The blues and pinks of the approaching sunset filled the sky. It was quietly breathtaking. The girls were excited, waiting for the moment to arrive each evening. Matthew was a babe in arms, a toddler. "Mommy, Mommy, where are the birds?"Just wait they will come. Start with little pieces and drop them into the water."One by one from out of the blue, birds would start to fly towards us. So many, that on some days, we did not have enough bread.

  There was a park nearby where I would take Matthew in his stroller when it was sunny. It was a special time for us and the park was full of Canadian Geese. They had not left yet for the winter. Wherever we turned, we had to walk amongst them and they seemed quite at home with humans. They are so majestic, very similar to swans. Straight out of a storybook. I had never seen them before except in a V formation in the sky. Matthew seemed to have a special rapport with them as they often came close and hung around. We had no food for them. They just came to us. I had heard that the males could be aggressive, but they never were. Often they spread their 5ft wings and took off in flight. Matthew would giggle and point to the sky in wonder.

  Other animals that hung out in the park were black squirrels. Their fur was the color of black mink. The blackness was so deep with tinges of midnight. I never knew they existed until we came to Toronto. They ran, they played, they chattered. Standing adorably on their hind paws, sometimes with their front paws held in front of their bellies like small furry beggars.

  They were easily won over with a couple of peanuts. Or was it us that were won over easily with a couple of peanuts? There were plenty of trees for them to have as their domain as we walked below with our children. I wondered why Black? So I looked it up. It seems they are much stronger and survive in the cold winters over the gray squirrel. One advantage was that their color keeps them warm. Interesting.

  One day it was raining, droplets with infused sunlight upon the window caught my eye as my reflection was on the inside. I bought some oils and a canvas and decided to paint that image. I was not to finish it for years, as I wanted to learn how to paint a raindrop. Wherever I saw raindrops on the window orin a painting, I studied them. It was a passion for years. I realize now I was seeking to paint my tears of that period. Tears of lost love. The Cry of the Heart longing for it to return.

  ***

  In the late 90s, I was asked to an exhibit in Los Angeles for the Whole Life Exposition. David and I had already separated and the children and I were living in Brockhurst. I reviewed all my unfinished artwork when I finally decided to finish it. I called it Reflections. Brockhurst had a separate cottage that I converted into a painting studio upstairs and a guest cottage, which Emo lived in for years. We had classes there that Cecil inspired since I found that it served to keep my creativity flowing. So the day had come to finish painting my tears. I placed Reflections on the easel with a view of the garden and began to paint.

  To my surprise, instead of painting raindrops, I wound up painting droplets of sunshine. There I was in my studio with my unfinished canvas before me. I was holding a recent Polaroid of me in one hand and the brush in the other. I tuned into my creative space, working in harmony with my inner self, the photo and the artwork before me. I was in another reality held in an altered state seeking to be one with the painting. The paint on my brush seemed to be droplets of golden light. I blinked. I took another color. Again, droplets of golden light appeared onto the canvas. The painting, my heart and the photo had become One. Moreover, what was revealed to me in that moment was that I no longer had inner sorrow. I was full of Joy. The raindrops no longer needed to be painted for the tears had gone. I was painting Joy. Across the room there sat the man who guided me to Love again.

  CHAPTER 58

  HARMONY OUT OF CHAOS

  NYC

  5-7 October 1987

  The Floyd were playing Madison Square Garden over three consecutive days. Momentary Lapse of Reason had been on the road and it was the first concert in the city without Roger. The gigs before proved that the Band was still in business. "The Floyd is still ALIVE" was the word on the street and the headlines throughout the press. Chinese whispers spread from state to state. The magic was still there. They had succeeded, but there was still work to do to rebuild the walls.

  Before we left England, Mrs. Tweedie had asked me if I could take the draft of her book to Dr. Werner Engel, the president of the New York's Jungian Society. He was to write the foreword and I would be there to insure he got it. Once we settled, I called him, a deep Germanic voice answered, "Yes? Engel here." My shyness kicked in with the realization that I was about to speak to someone who was a highly regarded Jungian. I found my voice and told him why I was calling. We arranged to meet the following morning at 11:00 a.m.

  He had an apartment very close to where John Lennon had lived. I rang the bell and was let in by a woman who ushered me to sit in one of the multiple chairs in the long corridor. The walls were lined with certificates, framed pictures, bookshelves filled with books, and tables. I waited patiently until he finally came. His deportment was gentle and gracious as he invited me to come into the next room from whence he came.

  The room was like entering into a Victorian film set. Books piled high on every table, aspidistra on a pedestal in the corner, dim light entering the room through the lace curtains. He offered me to sit in a leather chair next to his desk that was covered with piles of papers. He pushed them aside, looking for pen and paper. I handed him the manuscript. Looking through his eye glass he said, "Well Ginger, what brings you to New York?" His demeanor was so clear and full of genuine interest. A quality I found easy to trust. His compassion opened my heart. It felt as if he was speaking directly to my soul. I lost all perception of the time as we chatted and had tea.

  At one point he asked, "Ginger, I am very interested in how Rock 'n'Roll music affects the psyche. I was wondering if there was any way you could help me in my research?"With a rather girlish grin cocking my head, I said, ''I think that would be possible Dr. Engel. When are you available?" We arranged for this to happen a few days later, but in the meantime, he invited me to come again the next day for he said that he would like to talk to me more about Mrs. Tweedie's book.

  I went to lunch at Schwartz Deli. Famous for their Reuben sandwiches and other yummy things. I was now a vegetarian but still loved sauerkraut. I was passionate for Reubens before, so I fancied a vegetarian one if possible. As I entered the deli, it was packed. I waited in line for my turn to come. The energy in the room was very New York; People in a hurry, Wonderful food, the clatter of plates and the smell of coffee.

  I have found many New Yorkers of the male gender in service love to have a flirt with a pretty girl. And so it was that day with me. In a very New York Jewish accent one said, "And what can I do for you today, honey?" I gulped as I asked with a smile, "Well could I have a Reuben without the corn beef?" He nearly choked. Then shouted across to another guy behind the counter, "Hey Mac, this lady wants A REUBEN WITHOUT CORNBEEF! Can we do that?" A voice came back with a very affirmative, "NO." I could not believe it. My waiter stood behind the counter in his white apron and hat, hands on his hips, just waiting for my response. Ok, I thought to myself. "Sir, would it be possible then to have a sandwich with Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, mustard, dressing and on dark rye? With a pickle and an ice tea?" He said, "Sure lady, we can do that!'"That was something right out of the film, Easy Rider when Jack Nicholson wa
s ordering his breakfast.

  When I visited Dr. Engel the next day, I was in a state of vulnerability, which he noticed. He directed our conversation without commenting directly. He was a master of Heart. We talked about my sensitivity and being around a Rock 'n' Roll environment. He then asked me, "Ginger when you were sitting in the hallway, did you notice my certificates?" "No, I didn't Dr. Engel. I was more interested in your books, Why?" He said, "Well, I am a marriage counselor and if you ever need one I am here for you." I responded with difficulty gulping, "Dr. Engel that is so kind of you. But I don't think I need one and I hope I never will." The following day we organized a limousine to pick him up early, at his request for he wanted to see everything. I met him as his car arrived with all his passes. I gave him the grand tour for we had enough time. He questioned everyone about the technical aspects and then more psychological ones regarding life on the road. I took him to his seat as the audience was coming in. I asked if he would like earplugs but he said, "No. I want to experience the whole show." He was eighty-six. Afterwards I took him backstage to meet the band. While having a drink and a nibble, he said to me, "Ginger I do not know if you will agree with me, but the place where you and I touch through meditation, is the same place your husband's group reaches while transforming Chaos into Beauty. "His words captured so much. Over the years, this always touched my heart. The flavor of Beauty that remained after all the pain. I had come to realize that the task of Life was to transform Chaos into Beauty. This is what our love meant to me. Despite the challenges, we have always allowed Beauty to Win. This is what, even today, I feel, David's emphasis on the importance of what the underlying music spoke was essential. It sought to uplift not to drag down, to break-through not to break-down.

  It was the music's transforming quality of the "Darkness,"which spoke to us all. It reached beyond the words to our hearts in the notes they played. It silently, in its Beauty gave us Hope in a troubled world. I have said, "Thank You,"so many times upon reflection, for the inspiration that gave me courage to create Beauty at all costs. Losing that quality brings our demise. This I gained without knowing about it. It was a seed planted that would grow to flower later.

  CHAPTER 59

  A FRIENDLY MONSTER IN THE HOUSE

  1986-1987

  I returned to England after the NYC gig. Things had started to get difficult, as the tensions and tremors were filtering overinto our home life. I was getting worried. Dr. Engel very kindly offered to give me sessions over the phone. I was having many disturbing dreams, which as he was a Jungian, he helped me to understand. He often said to me, "Ginger, you are Breaking-through not Breaking- down." With his counsel, I have come to realize that all experiences are opportunities to grow and touch our soul purpose. With this perspective, I was no longer a victim carried along in the drama of life. I found that there was a higher intention. And eventually I was to know that God was a God of love and prosperity, not a God of wrath which was man made. But I was still new to these ideas as a living truth.

  I was discovering that depending on how I dealt with my thoughts, my frustrations, my fears would determine what came next. That my words commanded my life. By contemplating the thought about my dreams, being a Breaking-through and not a Breaking-down shifted a lot. I saw my perception change from darkness to light in regards to almost everything. He said that I was who I was because of the words I spoke each day.

  New possibilities were emerging. I saw how important it was that in times of trouble how my words could shift the results. Therefore, I started with little things. I noticed that each time people greeted we would tell our problems. We passed on our fears and our woes. I decided to exchange the good times first and listen if needed in order to help. I discovered with each time I shared my difficulties I would go down. A cloud would come over our heads. Our lights would dim. Each time I shared my happiness I would rise above the storm and leave a sparkle behind. I had to find a way to uplift the situation and yet honor each others challenging moments. It was a pattern that I was trying to transform.

  David was still on tour, so each evening as the sun set I would sit in our bedroom by the tall windows in our rocking chair overlooking the River Thames meditating. I visualized his success that the world would receive the Beauty of what they all had stood for within that album, within their hearts, within our lives. Mrs. Tweedie also had the group do this each day in her home. We sprinkled them with God's Love and protection.

  I felt close from afar. My love had a purpose. They did more gigs on this tour than they had in years, back to back and it was a success. The magic, the miracle of their stance was with them. I have found that each time one stands for a higher purpose, each time one stands and not die we are rewarded. I had never experienced it to be so true as on that tour.

  During this time waiting for our family life to be returned, I went to Lily for healing. I took the children as well. In the first session with Sara, Lily was sitting at the top of the table with her elder loving hands gently placed upon Sara's head. Lily softly asked her after a few moments, "Sara, do you see fairies?'"Sara nodded "yes" keeping her eyes closed. Lily's Love seemed to fill the room as she continued to ask, "Not everyone sees Fairies, do they?" Sara shook her head as if to say "no". "Well, I see fairies Sara,"Lily said to her. Sara was quiet, then said, "OH?" That was where we left it. Later that month, Lily gave a lecture on Fairies and all their colors. She told how they did the work of the Lord maintaining life until humans really did their duty as caretakers.

  One by one all the children came down with Chicken Pox. One by one, they slept in my bedroom on the couch in the dark. I had to draw the curtains for they were sensitive to the sunlight. It was a long month. During that time, I told Sara about Lily's fairy lecture. How each fairy had a different color and purpose. To my surprise, she knew and told me about their color and the job God had given to them. My heart was filled with a smile and a tear.

  I was not the only one having nightmares during this time. Alice was having lots of them. Some evenings I would find her running down the hallway screaming, "NO! NO!" I would catch her and hold her in my arms as her screams changed to sobs. Over and over every night we had this experience for weeks. I spoke with Margaret, a psychiatrist who was a dear friend of Mrs. Tweedie's. She worked with the group on such matters. She said to continue doing what I was doing and at some point Alice would tell me what the dream was about. One day she did. She said that a monster was coming after her who was really scary.

  I had been reading a book about a South American tribe who shared their dreams each morning. If a child had nightmares that a lion was coming to eat him, the tribe would advise that the next time he must face the tiger. That he must try to make friends with the tiger. So this is what I encouraged Alice to do. "Alice you must try to make friends with him." She said, "Oh, No. I can't do that. I can't face the monster. I can't be his friend." So a few more days passed and the monster continued to come.

  She continued to be found in different parts of the house screaming and panicking. I decided that she should sleep in our bedroom on the couch. One night at bedtime, I suggested that perhaps she should tell the monsterthat your mom wants to talk to him if he doesn't want to be friends. The next morning she awoke with a smile, bouncing onto the bed. With a sparkle in her eye, she said, "It worked Mommy! I told him that I wanted to be his friend!'""Really Alice! That is wonderful! What did he say?""He started to cry and said that no one had ever wanted to be his friend!" she said proudly. Needless to say, I was glad that was over. Now we had a friendly monster in the house.

  CHAPTER 60

  DR. GERHARD ADLER

  There came a moment that my process was getting deeper and more of a challenge. Dr. Werner Engel felt it would be best to have contact with someone in England. I was awakening to the adventure of my soul quest beyond the daily challenges of my personality fears and desires. A tsunami was approaching and at the same time, a fire was beginning to glow which he recognized and valued. He saw how fragi
le and delicate my flame was and did not want it to go out or be swallowed by the storm. One day he said, "Ginger I want you to call my dear friend Gerhard Adler and tell him Engel has sent you." Goodness! My nerves rose at the thought. My shyness kicked in as I began to dial his number. He answered, "Hello, Gerhard here." Heat surged throughout my body as I searched for words. Clearing my throat, I said "Hello, Dr. Adler. Dr. Engel said I should call you and that I should come to you for analysis." "He did, did he?" and paused in thought. Time seemed to go on forever as I waited for him to speak. "Well," he paused again. "Can you come tomorrow morning at 7:30 a.m.?" I said, "Yes, Thank you, Can you give me the address?" The whole day after my call was spent wondering what was about to happen tomorrow. Dr. Adler was the top in Jungian Analysis and trained by the master himself. Was this a blessing, which would ease my problems at home and in my heart? I hoped it would. I had to get up early to get from where we lived to him at 7:30 a.m. He lived in Hampstead and worked from there. The drive across London was full of thoughts about me turning around each time I had to stop to look at my A-Z for directions. Finally, I found myself parked before his house. I made it and on time.

  It was raining, but I chose to leave my umbrella in the car. I walked up the stairs to the front door and rang the bell. I waited shivering from anticipation. By the time he came to the door, I was drenched. He let me in with a warm welcome similar to Dr. Engel. I began to feel safe. Leading me to his downstairs room in the back of the house, we passed through his living room. The decor reminded me of the austerity of the fifties with upright furniture to sit on with scattered pillows in different muted colors.