Memoirs of the Brightside of the Moon

by Ginger Gilmour

  On the second day, Elizabeth left me alone beside the pool and as I watched these majestic beings alone in the sunshine, I decided to do my healing harmonics. I closed my eyes and as my harmonic sounds drifted over the pool, the air once again grew still. After a while as I was held within a meditative state, a gentle sound, a calling, was entering my sound. I opened my eyes to see and there before me were three baby dolphins, heads upright out of the water joyfully making a sound in a similar tone as my harmonics. I stopped in amazement, astonished, feeling blessed, but had to continue for they made a crackling sound, giving me the impression they were saying, "Please don't stop! More!" So I continued. Each time they would close their eyes and start to swoon, - swirling in graceful movements before me - always keeping their throats facing me and out of the water. This went on for some time, me singing harmonics and them swooning. Each time I stopped to have a breather, they would request for more. "Cackle, Cackle,"they would sound while nodding their little heads, their eyes filled with delight. It was such a precious moment. It was as though we were communicating without words and I was entering into the world of the dolphin. As one can imagine this again was deeply moving for me, but there was an experience even greater to happen the next day.

  On the third day, Elizabeth took me to a third pool where they fed the male dolphins. At the time I could not imagine anything greater than the peace and affirmations, I had already received. I was just happy to be there. Sea World had become something beyond what I had experienced in the past. The males had a very different energy than the females and the babies. They were very much to themselves at first. They kept their distance and circled round and round watching me. Their bodies were larger and full of power.

  As I watched and observed, I began to feel an energy in my heart encouraging me to open and receive their love. It went beyond infinity. It was then that one male came closer and kept looking at me as he circled the pool. My heart became warmer as his energy penetrated deeper. Tears fell from my eyes. It seemed that old wounds were dissolving. All my life I had spent silently wanting and dreaming of deep love.

  I wished for my "knight in shining armour" to appear - to love and be loved deeply without fear of surrender, dissolving, and yet still have the strength of our own identities. That dream had disappeared within the tensions of our separation. Then it happened. My heart filled with such a feeling of Joy and Love that I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. The dream was fulfilled, but deeper. Goodness, I was having an experience with a dolphin like in Horace's books! An inner voice beckoned me to give more, to open my heart further, to receive more. It was OK. I was safe to let go, to what was the Love in my heart given to me from God. The Divine gift we all have, that I held a secret most often, out of respect for it takes two to go there. I thought, this male dolphin encouraged me to Let go. I would not hurt him with the full Love of my heart.

  In my training, I had learned to respect the different levels of others. Humans do have boundaries, but not true with the dolphins. To have my love accepted without the dimmer switch was quite a relief. This was an experience into Infinite Love. (One that I shall cherish for the rest of my life.) At the time, I remembered saying to myself "Wow! Everyone should have one of these." I returned to daily life with my human companions, holding a memory that gave me the strength to go on. Of course, in the days and years that have followed a question often arose, "We cannot all swim with the dolphins. We must also protect these wonderful creatures from harm. So in modern times, we must find another way to find "infinite love?" And it was while in my studio, it became clear that each time I began my work, the doorway opened to that timeless moment. Creativity was a key. Many say to me, "Oh, I am not an artist." However, I have discovered that what I experienced with the dolphin is the creative force of life itself. It is that doorway, which opens when one sees a sunset, the blossom of the cherry tree, a newborn lamb. Most of all, it is Beauty that takes us there. Precious and sacred, Beauty touches the heart and guides our way.

  I have come to realize the dolphin has shown me the way to my own inner beauty and once the path is there, it doesn't go away, unless I choose to close the door. They showed me the way to touch the God within Me. As an Artist, I am now on a quest through my art to create doorways to the Beauty within, to inspire others to seek the "Art of Living" through Beauty. And always remember to bathe in its essence... to Beautify, Beautify, Beautify!

  We are the co-creators of our world, if only we realized how much we have the power to create Heaven on Earth and it lies within our Hearts. To me the dolphins are special beings, who, by their nature are here to help us to find our true self and perhaps by their example we can learn to live together in Peace. Hence, in 2001, my sculpture of Dolphina-the Spirit of Peace came into being. She now lives in the garden of the Humber Bridge Country Hotel, formerly the Reeds Hotel. Dolphina has survived severe flooding, gales and rain, plus more that nature and man could have flung at the hotel. Many will be able to return to the healing presence of the Hotel once restored to its new face of Beauty, hopefully in the Spring of 2015. Dolphina awaits.

  CHAPTER 72

  HOUSE OF BROKEN DREAMS

  1989

  As I write each morning, the chapters between the threads of our marriage get longer and longer, thinner and thinner; I enter into those moments when our dreams are being broken. I have to face the emerging sorrow of the chasm that was building between us. I struggle to face the computer, to touch the keys. I ask God, to please, give me the strength to transform what is still held inside. I pray for help, so that Joy will return and the Peace of "Who I Truly AM"will be restored to me. My answer came in the morning affirmation from Joel Osteen:

  When you pass through the waters,

  I will be with you,

  And when you pass through the rivers,

  They will not sweep over you.

  Thus, I began to write again for He was with me parting the seas of the unknown. Doing this would reveal what was best for my life. So I took a deep breath and continued. I have been courageous before and took steps to trust my future led by His grace. I shall do it again.

  We, (David and I), were living in separate houses, separate lives joined only by our children and a piece of paper affirming, "until death do us part." Could we go on? We decided to meet in Kauai for a try. We never really discussed our intention; we were not really discussing much on deeper levels for years, nor did we allow our hearts to be open as before. The mask had become our relationship. False smiles, without the sparkle in our eyes, hiding the struggle, still doing the dishes and taking out the trash. The Wall was being built with each day. What do we do? What can we do silently? Is it over? The children and I traveled separately for David was touring somewhere in the world. We also invited one of Alice's dearest friends, Phoebe, to come with us. I do not know if you have ever done that trip to Hawaii from England, but it is LONG especially with five children of varying ages. First, we were to fly to Los Angeles then to Oahu and then take a small plane to Kauai, never knowing that Phoebe was terrified of flying. It was to be revealed on the way mid-flight to Los Angeles.

  Thank God, our kids were troupers when it came to flying. I had never experienced the level of fear that Phoebe went through during each flight. I was amazed she even got onto each plane as the trip went on from LA to Hawaii. I tried everything homoeopathically I had with me. Arg Nit, alternating with Aconite and I visualized all the colors I knew to bring calm. I was on duty for the whole journey holding her, stroking her forehead, speaking words of calm. Alice tried to keep her distracted with games as the rest of the plane watched their movies.

  I have made that journey from London to Los Angeles holding a baby, walking up and down the aisles, bouncing her to keep her from disturbing others. It was ten long hours, but this was more difficult. I didn't know Phoebe's deepest patterns of how she worked when in extreme fear. I didn't know she was afraid of flying as I said before! I was learning fast. The tension and concern was huge. Dur
ing the layover in L.A, she returned to her bubbly self as though nothing had happened. We all discussed the way forward if there was one.

  She promised to try to work with it, but as soon as we were air born again, snap, the uncontrollable fear arose. By the time we had to take the little plane to Kauai, I was frazzled, desperate, beyond having the strength to be compassionate. When she started again, I took a different course of action. I demanded that she pulled herself together! For God's sake, she was thirteen! "Phoebe, I am sorry but enough is enough!" Thankfully, she did it. It worked, but I felt guilty for demand was not in my program.

  As soon as our feet touched the ground of Kauai and we knew our journey was over, the bliss of the flowers and the Aloha spirit of the island once again took me over. We had rented a most wonderful home. Well, it was more than a home it was the historic plantation estate of Albert Spencer Wilcox, Keolani, which had stood for over a hundred years. In Europe, this was young, but in Hawaii, it was ancient when you consider the weather it has probably endured. Its beauty soothed our weary hearts as we sat on the veranda looking over the lawn past the coconut trees to the blue of the ocean.

  When David arrived, the children rejoiced and ran into his arms, "Daddy, Daddy!"He smiled stooping down to hold them, looking up at me, his eyes distant, questioning, unsure. We slept in different bedrooms joined by a glass partition. And our days went on, "as if" we were a family. The children played happily as though the dream was still playing, rejoicing in the presence of their Mom and Dad together.

  There were horses in the stables and they often rode bareback in the waves. They had races on the lawn in the two jeeps. David allowed them to have the freedom to drive on our private property. There was plenty of space for them to learn. One was red and one was black. Alice and Phoebe were the drivers with Clare and Sara their individual passengers. There were two rows of coconut trees, which formed their racetrack. The game was to see who could collect the greatest amount of coconuts in the shortest amount of time. Until one day, looking through the window, David noticed they were getting reckless and stopped it.

  We made new friends and were truly happy that Suzanne and Graham Nash were staying on the island as well. Graham must have been an early riser. Each morning as we walked out onto the veranda by the kitchen with our tea, there was a basket laden with fresh papayas from them. I discovered many years later that David always answered the phone saying, "House of Broken Dreams." I am glad I had not heard him saying that, as it would have upset me deeply because I was still trying to glue the dream together. At some point, Graham asked if he could use the line for a new song. As years go by, I still weep each time I hear it. So beautiful, but so sad.

  We had several dinner parties where we invited many of the locals. I remember the first time I met Marguerite Gaffney who became one of my best friends and is still to this day. She was radiant, full of beauty, heart and laughter. We had so much in common. Our paths were leading us along a similar journey, from Rock 'n' Roll to Hawaii to Spirituality. Her first husband, who was a promoter, died of natural causes. Apparently, she knew of me from afar, for she was there at the gig when the Floyd played in Philadelphia. Small world. Evenings passed sharing thoughts and building our friendship.

  She shared with me the educational theory of Rudolf Steiner, inspiring me to look into its principles further. All three of her children were going to the school in California. She was very involved with creating the events for the school, as she was more than a mum. She was an artist, a visionary. I am grateful for that moment when we met since she has been a great support for my heart along the way.

  Hayley Mills arrived with her two sons, Crispin and Ace. We had become close friends when we lived in Monksbridge and as they were in Los Angeles we invited them to visit. It was a special time. Her laughter fills my memory, thinking of her as I write this chapter. We played tourist, which comprised of fruit smoothies at the huts along our drives and watching rainbows. Drinking fresh coconut water with a straw from the coconut was an awesome delight. It was light relief to have them with us. We often went for dinner at our favorite restaurant called the "Dolphin." One night I had a dream experience, a teaching dream with Mrs. Tweedie. I sat with her in her London room, on her divan in her living room. She spoke and spoke. I did not remember anything the next morning except that when she finished she said, "Well then, I have told you everything you need to know. You do not need to come to see me anymore." I pondered that for days. Was that true? She often spoke of teaching dreams. Was that cycle over, her guidance? I waited for six months when I returned before going to see her. She ignored me as though I did not exist. So I left not forcing it. I was never to see her again. I had to find my next step alone, it seemed.

  CHAPTER 73

  MRS. HELLA ADLER

  JUNGIAN ANALYSIS CONTINUES

  1989

  The New Year had begun and so did the continuation of my Jungian analysis with Hella Adler in Burgess Hill, now that Dr.

  Adler had passed over. She had completed her religious observance to the Judaic tradition that they both shared, in these matters. She was ready for us to begin. Her consulting room was upstairs full of sunshine. As one entered, she would be sitting in a large comfy chair right there before you, her knees covered with a blanket and a gentle smile of welcome. Like Gerhard, I felt at ease in her presence. I often sat either on the couch, where there was a sheet of newspaper to put one's feet, or on a therapeutic rocking stool placed nearby.

  Mrs. Adler's theoretical position was broadly similar to her husband's; both were disciples of Carl Jung's theories of analysis. She was more interested in the effects of childhood and infancy in the development of the maturing adult. In particular, she was interested in the body-mind split and how this influenced certain illnesses such as cancer. However, they both placed emphasis upon the importance of dream analysis, which included attention to transference and countertransference dynamics. This was more important to them than technique because it leads to a better understanding of the ego-self relationship, and thereby healing of neurotic wounds. Working with her gave me hope that I could go further along my inner journey that my soul longed for and that she would be my companion along the way. I came to her with a dream one day. I was in a fighting ring with David. The ring was in a mist and I was on the floor as he was kicking me in my stomach repeatedly. A voice spoke from within the mist, "Ginger, Get up and leave! Do not accept the fight and be a victim." I did not take its advice and David continued to kick me. Finally, a great being of light came into the ring, picked me up and carried me away. Its last words carried forth majestically as we left, "ENOUGH of this!" Mrs. Adler listened until I finished and then suggested forme to tell David the dream. "Do not discuss it, just share it as a strange dream in the night" she insisted. I followed her advice. What is interesting was that throughout most of our later years of marriage, each time we had the slightest difficulty, I would feel as though I was kicked in my stomach. Our communication was most often shared silently, in our telepathic bond for that was our way. Both of us stayed away from verbal confrontation, which became both our strength and our weakness. After sharing the dream, my stomach aches disappeared.

  I started to realize just how much the Self is the dynamic, regulating and integrating principle in one's life. I came to realize how much my healing was dependent on self-realization. Mrs. Adler often would say how vital the role of the individual is as a participant in the development of one's people and our culture. Jung said that the relationship with the Self is at one and at the same time a relationship with one's fellow man. Herman Melville wrote a long time ago, "A thousand fibers connect us to our fellow man." Therefore, it seemed that my analysis and my work with Lily was taking me on a journey towards self-realization and touching the energetic space that linked me with Humanity. It was giving me tools that would develop that innate aspect asleep within myself. It did require me to allow myself to be honest about my projections and withdrawing them. It was hard work to be
come aware, to admit, to withdraw and then to allow a new self to be born. This process was so inspiring for I could feel what once was a divided psyche was healing, becoming whole. One day, the penny dropped, I would also be contributing to the fragmented collective psyche. The effort was worth it, I told myself, as the mud started to clear. I was becoming aware of how to observe what the Jungians refer to as the numinosities in ordinary daily life. Numinous referring either to a quality belonging to a visible object or the influence of an invisible presence that causes a peculiar alteration of consciousness. Some may call it the hints from God. Sometimes, delivered straight to your door, sometimes revealed during analysis or any other time when one is in a heightened state of awareness. Carl Jung wrote in a letter in 1945, "The approach to the numinous is the real therapy, not, the treatment of neuroses." This fundamental attitude leads one into a strong subjective experience of the objective psyche.

  Mrs. Adler often worked with me through creative drawing with my imagination. The most revealing one, was an individual slumped on the floor in the shadow against a wall. She was held confined in a small room with no door. High up on the wall out of reach was a tiny window with a most beautiful view of the countryside. The Sun was shining and the field was full of red poppies. Interestingly, the shape of the individual slumped on the floor was pink, faceless, and looked like the Floyd's PINK from Gerald Scarfe's drawings for the Wall film. So I wonder, even today, who was I really drawing or what part Pink had become me at the time.

  At some point, Mrs. Adler suggested for David and I to have a joint session. She asked him what he felt was the difficulty in our relationship. He responded that it was Mrs. Tweedie. She asked why he felt that way. He said, "She is power mad and controlled her followers." She furthered by asking him, "Do you think that Ginger is under her power?" He said, "No." She asked in response, "David have you ever considered that both Mrs. Tweedie and Cecil Collins were giving her a more positive mother and father presence to heal her childhood experiences?" He was silent. We left Burgess Hill that day in separate cars, separate houses, separate lives.