Memoirs of the Brightside of the Moon

by Ginger Gilmour

  I entered his room, which was full of books and comfortable typically English chairs. The morning sunlight began to brighten the room as he gestured for me to sit down. He held the silence for a while as my heartbeat slowed playing with my wristwatch. He always began with silence as though he was tuning into something beyond my normal reality. I wondered if I should say something, but I was too shy.

  Again, I began to have a feeling of timelessness as I had done with Dr. Werner Engel in New York. We spoke for an hour, but I do not remember what stories I shared, only the stillness of his listening. I was graced to have had six sessions with him. One morning, Mrs. Adler answered the door. She said that Gerhard had passed over in the night. As I stood at her door in the early morning chill, she continued to speak to me. She added that they had discussed which of his clients she might take over from him before he died. And if I was willing, we could start in the New Yearonce all the formalities were completed. She asked if she could have a few weeks to re-orientate.

  ***

  As I was writing of the moment when I first met Dr. Adler, I had forgotten what he looked like. I was also struggling with the time sequence between meeting Dr. Werner Engel in NYC and Dr. Adler passing over. Therefore, I took some time to ponder. I found a documentary called The Matter of the Heart, about Carl Jung in which he was to appear. I made a cup of tea, sat on my couch and watched it. Unexpectedly, I discovered the answer to a question concerning the shadow, which had plagued me ever since becoming aware of Jung and the Collective Unconscious, including the Anima and Animus.

  I had watched this years ago, when it first came out in 1986 but I never understood its message. They say that sometimes one has to hear something seven times or more before it goes in. And each time a little bit of Light in the message takes away a bit of the Shadow of unknowing. I was now inspired to understand more. I always placed a shield between me and the shadow, as I thought it was the darkness of evil. I wanted only to focus on Love, Light and Beauty. I choose this as our world is so familiar with war, crime, fear, negativity. I felt strongly that Humanity is on the brink of forgetting our essence of Divinity and what was sacred.

  In the documentary, I discovered the shadow was a folder in me marked "Do not enter - House of broken dreams." It manipulated me from deep within. I was a puppet controlled in the darkness. I had locked away what was too painful to deal with for I was in survival mode. "Maybe later I will look at it,"I told myself. Fortunately, that time has come for I see I was its victim. It played with me. I was not free. Even images of Love put away played with me. I look into my shadow now because it is filling with Light.

  ***

  After I left Mrs. Adler, I drove home stunned by how life could change on a dime. I was still in a Jungian process so I agreed to see her in the New Year as I stood at her doorstep. Not knowing whether it was a good decision or not I was learning to trust what lay before me. I was learning to trust my heart guidance. I was noticing there were often two voices, which gave opinions in my head as to what I should do, what choices I should make. Each had a different quality. As time went by, I grew more familiar with them knowing why I should listen to one and not the other.

  One seemed to be a Call, a Message from my Soul. I was not favoring it being a message from God at the time as I do now. I could accept it coming from the Angels. It had a warmth and a feeling of Love guiding me. Something I could trust. The other one made me a bit hyper, anxious and on edge. It felt like I was pushing a stone uphill. I did not always go with the one that called me from my soul daring me to live what it suggested.

  I must admit I hit the brick wall more often listening to the other one, which made it a tough way of learning. Why I chose being anxious was a mystery. Maybe it had something to do with the Shadow? Maybe it had something to do with my childhood. I did try ever so hard to be accepted by my peers, my husband and my family. My self churned inside as I tried to find a balance. I did think differently than the norm, at least in the Rock 'n' Roll of the day, which didn't help.

  ***

  Anyway, Christmas was upon us and David would return around 15 December, so time passed by with lots of festivities in our family custom. I had 1000 Christmas cards to sign and send. It was something I loved to do each year. With my new understanding of how words could carry love and joy, I did so with each signature and stamp. I called upon the Spirit of Christmas as each card went into their respective envelopes.

  David and I wrapped presents upon presents in our telly room. As we were working away, our Lady dog sat under the piano playing with some ribbon. Sometimes she would rush into the moving wrapping paper, sliding into the middle of what we were doing. We did this in the night after all the kids were safely tucked in bed.

  David took a phone call while sitting on the floor amongst the wrapping paper. I was busy with the smaller ones when he resumed wrapping after the call. With each pile of finished presents, we would put them under the tree. We suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter when we noticed that David had wrapped a present with the phone cable running through the wrapping! He had to start all over because it was a very large one. No worries.

  The holidays were spent having large dinners either at our home or at his Mom and Dad's. Boxing Day was usually with friends. That year we went to Zermatt to ski and have New Year's Eve with the Lords and the Paices (Deep Purple), which had become an annual event. The children were amazing skiers, especially Clare, fearless and so close to the ground that her aerodynamics were to her advantage. She looked like something out of Star Wars as she whizzed down the hill, leaving me in her wake.

  Once I remember she went in a different direction back to the main street than us. And as we came into town, there she was just to my right flying in the air happily. She hadn't realized that the path she had chosen ended with a drop into the high street. She was fine, but her acrobatic stunt took us back a bit.

  I just loved Zermatt with the horse drawn sleighs, the fur blankets and the tinkles of the bells as we drove along. It was something out of Dr. Zhivago. Everyone was dressed in bright colors reflected in the snow. The "Shush Shush" as we walked down the street in our skies and crisp air upon our faces was sorely missed when we returned home. I always returned feeling so healthy. What they say about mountain air is true, especially the hot cocoa and fondues of Switzerland.

  It wasn't long before David was due to go back out on tour. Australia this time. I was to meet up with him for the Japan tour with Matthew. In the meantime, I hired another nanny; one to travel with me and one to stay at home, as the girls were in school and could not come. I continued my weekly classes with Cecil and analysis with Mrs. Adler.

  CHAPTER 61

  WORKING WITH LILY

  I began a course in Mental Color Therapy with Lily. Vickie Lord and Jackie Paice, twin sisters and wives of two members of Deep Purple did as well. We had become friends when we lived in Hook End and for years spent our skiing holidays together. Another girlfriend, Jill Robson made it a foursome who I had met through Astrid Rush after Sara's birth.

  Lily and her co-worker, Ronald Leach, and co-founder of this form of therapy would sit in their white coats at either end of a table in the front window. They took turns reading from the papers that they had handed out to us. We would be in front of them listening and taking notes once a week for months. We not only learned the structure of the body, but also the healing power of color plus the energy systems similar to acupuncture.

  Most of the therapy focused around the therapeutic qualities of color mixed with Love. Pink was Lily's favorite colorand she teased Ron often about not forgetting to put in a bit of pink. We learned to visualize color instead of using physical colors as it is in many other therapies. She felt certain that our minds and hearts were our best tools.

  The children loved her. She was our Nan in many ways. Lily use to say that if she were a Fairy Godmotherthe one quality she would bestow upon a child would be to have a sense of humor. Laughter and Joy were the key to Happiness
and opened our hearts to receive God's Love. To me she was an Angel amongst us. She often would say that she knew they were there, but was never graced to see one.

  So we began to work in the clinic with heras time progressed in our training. I learned a lot in those days about humanity and myself. We had many that were deformed and it was a challenge at first not to judge and withdraw. I saw a lot of the sadness and sorrow many carried. Looking back, I wish I had more of an understanding of Christ's Love. I could have helped them more. However, Lily worked closely with his energy believing that our hearts would open for our intention was pure. He was always there.

  On Saturdays, we offered a free children's clinic. They were special even within their difficulties. I have always had a soft spot for the wee ones so I felt at home with them. The moms and dads came baring their sorrow holding their precious treasures looking for hope as they passed them over to us. Lily went from one family after another with her Love. There were toys and books in the corner for the older children while they waited for their turn.

  I remember one child suffered from severe allergies to many foods especially sweets. She was so in distress about this for the children at school would tease herand wave their Mars barin front of her face. Lily said to her, "Don't mind them dear. They do not realize what poison they are eating. It is not their fault. Just pray for them. You must realize how wise your body is compared to theirs. It speaks to you. Your reactions are just because it knows that it is poison." I worked more and more together with Lily. We worked in pairs. It was interesting that many of the patients directed to me involved casualties of drug addiction and wild living. I found myself understanding their problems. Often I realized it was an opportunity for me to reflect back upon my own choices and challenges. They would arrive in taxis boasting in the waiting room about how much they spent getting high.

  Lily finally decided it was necessary to start charging. They needed to put a price on their health otherwise, they would continue making the wrong decisions. Inspiring respect for others and oneself was her intention. Sadly, our world works with money in the way that it does only by putting a value on something if it has a price. She decided to use it as a tool, but minimally. She said, "Miracles can happen when we shift our perspective and take responsibility for our choices instead of abusing one's own health. Money can serve to heal."

  CHAPTER 62

  WEMBLEY CONCERT

  August 1988

  The band toured throughout Europe and were home the first few weeks in August, before going back to America on the Northern leg of the Momentary Lapse of Reason tour. They had two gigs scheduled on Friday the 5th and Saturday, August 6th at Wembley Stadium. As I recall Sue Turner, our secretary, and I had our work cut out for us, managing over 1000 tickets just for our friends and family, not to mention back stage passes. On top of which, Mrs. Tweedie was interested in coming. This phase of touring with the Floyd was not only the congregation of family, film stars and known musicians as before, but also philosophers and spiritual leaders of the times.

  The elements requiring Mrs. Tweedie to arrive at Wembley Stadium, amongst over 90,000 fans, seated within the volume of the sound, was quite a task. Two friends, Andy Robson and another man, (sadly, I have forgotten his name) worked as security for the Guru Maraji Ji and came on board. Many of our friends were his followers, which we had met through Olivia Harrison when we lived at Hook End. Not only did they serve him in that capacity, but in a more creative way, decking the halls with Beauty for his events.

  On one afternoon, I organized them coming to the stadium to plan the logistics of getting her in with the greatest amount of care and safety. Watching their efficiency as they walked around felt as if they previously worked for the president. We asked Robbie Williams, production director, what would be the best way and time for her limousine to arrive into the stadium. In addition, which seat would be best for her, which was not in front of the main speakers.

  Our Mrs. "T" team was set-up with long distance walkie-talkies, backstage, and car passes as well as authorization for preferential treatment by the road crew anywhere. The night arrived and they were ready with a plan. One would be her guardian in the limo while the other was waiting at the stadium. She awaited pick up with her companions, Mona Wirtz and Luetz, who were dear friends of mine. While en route, each guardian kept in touch regarding traffic and the arrival of the audience. She traveled through the private passageways, as much as possible, to her seat. In addition, Sue and I made sure that many of the group who came to her for meditation and counsel would be sitting around her.

  The seating plan was always one of balancing who sat next to whom. The mixture of many groups of people, estranged and friendly, and cultures was a test and yet harmony seemed always to be there in their differences. Art had a way of doing that especially in my experiences with the Floyd. Or perhaps it was our mutual philosophy of care for the ones we loved and respected. The gig went very smoothly and Mrs. Tweedie found it an interesting experience. She like Dr. Engel wanted to know what influenced the younger generation's psyche, first hand. She even went so far one year, as to take an acid trip with Timothy Leary in California.

  After such a large organizational feat, I had always felt it was important to honor my closest staff for working beyond the call of duty. In this case, it was Sue Turner. Burning the midnight oil upstairs in our little office at EMKA, the Floyd's offices, was often where she could be found. This year I wanted to do something extraordinary for her. I pondered it for a few days. The touring pace continued onto Manchester and Dublin. She had been on duty each day with little rest often.

  I stayed home with the children. Then it came to me. I will send her a dozen roses every hour throughout the day starting at 9:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m. Her day usually finished between 5:30-6:00 p.m. After the fourth delivery, Sue was pleading with the driver, "Please tell me is there anymore coming?" He said filling her arms with the next bunch of flowers, "No idea luv." I asked the florist to keep it a secret. When the day drew to a close, Sue went home in a London black cab full of roses smiling.

  CHAPTER 63

  DADDY TOO LOUD

  JAPAN

  David had been away for two months touring in Australia and New Zealand. I was to join him in Japan with Matthew who was just about three. The girls had to stay back in the UK as they were still in school. English schools were getting less sympathetic about us taking them out on tour or other exotic places except on holidays. I loved watching David together with Matthew. They were like carbon copies, little and big. They were mates. David always wore a brown leather-flying jacket and so did Matthew for I had found a child version in one of the London markets.

  Some of the first concerts were to be in Tokyo. Matthew was always attracted to David when he sat at home or back stage or in the hotel playing the guitar. He would teeter on the edge where David was sitting listening, fascinated. The day came when I said that we would go to the concert and hear Daddy playing on stage. We went together for the rehearsal including our nanny, Rebecca, intending to stay through the evening concert. I took Matthew out to the mixing desk to let him get around in freedom. He loved running around the empty seats. The auditoriums were like being in a huge playground, except for the wires. Thank God, the wires were taped down. All the roadies loved our kids. They were big brothers and the kids had a very large family. The rehearsal was about to begin so I walked over to where Matthew was playing. "Matthew, Daddy is going to play now. We must go and be at the mixer." I held him jumping about with childlike enthusiasm in my arms as we wandered over to where we could stand. For a moment, his eyes were at attention looking everywhere at what seemed like the Star Ship Enterprise. He was fascinated with all the little lights on the mixers and men with headsets calling cues. He always observed the little things.

  Sounds of roadies clattered as the band entered onto the stage. David picked up his guitar as the rest of the band took their places. With the first note that loudly traveled around the empty audi
torium, Matthew screamed, "DADDY LOUD! DADDY LOUD!"His shouting continued as I hurriedly took him down the aisles to the safety of the backstage. The music got louder as we sought refuge. The band went into full swing. The auditorium was pulsating with the volume. His little hands clung to his ears as he continued to shout, "DADDY LOUD! DADDY LOUD!" My pace got faster all the while wishing I had ear protectors for my child. It was not quite, what I had expected. The other children had seemed ok in the past. Matthew was a sensitive child to loud sounds at home, I should have thought ahead. All was good throughout the rest of the day. He played backstage eating the meal I had packed for his dinner and the snacks, I might add, provided for the band. He played with many who thought he was cute. Eventually, he fell asleep on the comfy couch in the dressing room until it was over when we could take him back to the hotel. Another day on the road with children had drawn to a close.

  Since our last tour of Japan in 1972, a lot had evolved in me spiritually. I had become familiar with the teachings of Buddha and many other Eastern philosophies. I now meditated, was a vegetarian, abstained from any drugs and alcohol. I Loved Japanese food and their Art of Living. I adored Gardening and Bonsais. I Loved life so much, so that I was inspired to live a life more based upon Beauty, Goodness and Truth; the Truth of what we truly are as Human Beings. So to return to the place where these principles went back for centuries again, was a gift. I had a long list of gardens and temples I wanted to see with eyes wide open. I was more aware and valued the deep essence of their creations and intentions based upon their philosophy.

  In the early history of Japanese Gardens, the inspiration came from China, but over time, they developed their own principles and aesthetics. Primarily there are three types: Paradise gardens, Promenade Gardens and Temple Gardens. At the heart of these gardens lies the basic principle that they are a work of art. Often they are an experience with the Beauty of Nature in miniature within limitation. They did not seek to copy, but to inspire. The Japanese always had a spiritual connection with their land and the spirits that are one with nature. Their gardens are different from the Western flower gardens; their creations are in a spiritual and philosophical intention rather than just for its visual Beauty.