Would you indulge me? I’d like to tell you a story – about an old woman who lives with a three-legged cat in the country – at least that’s how she’d always asked me to refer to her, were I ever to mention her in print. I met her 15 years ago just after my friend and mentor, RD Laing had passed away. She’d known him too and the friendship which developed between us, helped me through the grieving process. She was 17 years older than me and way further down the path of self-discovery. Some said she was mad as a hatter and she’d have been the first to agree, for never have I been close friends with anyone quite as eccentric – there were times indeed, she’d even been known to wander over to her local pub naked for a drink but no one ever seemed to mind because we all knew instinctively that she was just playing – a mad game for sure, but just playing nonetheless – and quite consciously so, so, according to my crude way of looking at things, not mad in the slightest – just an avid proponent of outrageous living theatre. She’d done well in business, had single-handedly raised three children and was now, as she prepared for her dotage back then in ‘89, spending her time advising and helping young artists of various descriptions, as nurturing the creative spirit in everyone around her was her passion. She spent many selfless hours with me – some of them, ambience-wise, straight out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest – mentoring me on the content and style of my work in my early days of writing, performing and public speaking and as time went by and our relationship reached deeper levels, her mentoring went on to cover all aspects of my life. Her main concern, was always, was I being real and was what I was conveying responsible, for as you can imagine, to take a subject like modern spirituality, based on ancient Taoism and render it accessible to a broader public, requires a lot of honing and experimenting till you get anywhere near the right balance and pitch. She also counselled me on how best to conduct myself in my relationships, both in my private life and work, always willing to spend hours on the phone if necessary, till we reached the clarity required for me to conduct myself thenceforth with integrity and honour, whenever possible. She refused to ever say goodbye. She never said the word. The phone would simply go dead at the end of the conversation. She never expected me to call or visit but was always excited to hear from me and eager to hear all my news. She’d essentially taken me on as a lifelong project. So, I must admit, I’m fighting back the tears as I write, even though I know I’m just being sentimental – something she would never have indulged – at least not for more than a second or two - because the old woman who lives with a three legged cat in the country, no longer does. She’d had a vicious form of lupus, which eventually caused all her organs to seize up and after some lengthy heart surgery, she’d finally gone home and prepared to die. And this is the reason, I wanted to share the story with you – she’d practiced being mindful and spiritually awake for years and had always said that the whole point of being alive is to train how to die. She’d got me over there a few months back to say goodbye as she knew she wouldn’t have long. I gave her a healing to help ease the passage at the time. Her son Wade, a giant among men, was with her as she died and said he was incredibly proud of her, the way she faced death as a true warrior, with utmost calm and true abandon, trusting fully that where she was going was where she was meant to be going and though it might be scary, though she might be quaking in her boots, she was going there with her head held high and her spirit in tact. And that’s exactly what she did a few days ago. She just pulled the mask off, pulled out the drips and went. May I, may we all have that courage when the time comes – that’s really what I wanted to say. Thankyou.
