He nodded his and smiled approvingly and then said that in his opinion, those of us who live exemplary lives and who are not connected to the spiritual aspect, were in any event unconsciously in accord with the spiritual law. By the very nature of their loving thoughts and acts they were speaking for the Soul, [remembering its acronym] and as a result when death engulfed them, they would have an easy transition into the awareness of their spiritual after death nature. He said it was the design of Creation that men shall live their lives with spiritual awareness and in so doing make the Spirit aware of its own existence in the flesh. He insisted thatit was the Souls intent to engage in and explore the multifarious aspects of the earthly experience and he compared it to that of an Empire sending out explorers to discover things unknown and then to relay the findings home. And to press his point he recited a most intriguing metaphysically natured poem.
“Intrigued by the need to know of Itself also as a Whole,
First Thought sent forth second Thought posing as a Soul,
To search the antipodes of that something sensed unknown
And then true to all explorers was to despatch the findings home.
So Second Thought now imbued with all the powers of the First
Began the grand creation of this vast unfolding Universe,
Of which this world of ours is but one of countless many more,
Because when First Thought freed second Thought,
It forever bequeathed Freedom to us All.
To be frank, I found his dialogue intriguing even though I viewed it as a conceptual and philosophical postulation awaiting its factual corroboration. I told him that although I gave others the benefit of the doubt regarding their religious faith, and although my mother was herself a devout Spiritualist, I simply could not tear myself away from a format of factual analysis to enter a belief system based upon a supposition that required blind faith and nothing more. He nodded his head and said he agreed entirely, saying that to do so would be tantamount to spiritual suicide. He did however insist upon my being open to the possibility of change.„Be aware that there is the opportunity within you to experience this non factual realm, he said, adding that it could then indeed become verifiable. „Once this energy which is of a supreme and loving nature becomes the source of your cause, you then become its effect. He chuckled to himself and I felt that it was at my expense and so I asked him what he thought to be so amusing? He said that I would know it when it happened, and that is all I would ever need to know thereafter.
„What if it never happens? I asked.
„Do you want it to happen? he asked with a force of seriousness which made me think that his question and my subsequent answer might well be the conversational crux of our association. I ran through a number of juvenile reasons why I shouldnt want it to happen before realising that they were all fear-based. And it was not until I asked myself what positive good it could do for me that some semblance of clarity and insight availed itself. To date my life was a meaningless mess. I had forfeited any power on my part to act with courage and conviction, preferring to be bulldozed by lifes events to the point of intending to kill myself as a means of escape. Then I remembered how only a few hours ago I had stood before that full-arced rainbow and asked the King of Archers for an improvement in my worsening state of affairs and I seriously wondered if old silver Jesus here was some macabre response to that request? These thoughts filled me with a strange optimism that had long been lacking, and that itself became the impetus for my acquiescing in that moment to something unknown. With my green eyes fused to his blue, I stared him out and then smiled as I told him sincerely,„Yea Roy, I would like it to happen, if it can.
„Then so shall it be, he said splashing me squarely in the face with a well-aimed slap of water. I splashed him back and in seconds we were at watery war with one another. In those playful moments I felt deliciously liberated and I knew that I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left the hospital and I fulfilled my appointment in the graffiti tunnel.
I walked him back to the central lift area of the multi story wing and before bidding him goodnight I asked him to elaborate upon something he had said previously regarding my mothers distressed concern for my health. He looked me squarely in the eyes and a small grin enveloped his mouth.„Ah, here comes the proof of my credentials that youve been waiting for, he said with relish. „Its not so much your health to which she was referring, he said coolly, „but rather your death. His eyes locked onto mine as he scrutinised me in the strange way as he done several times that evening.
„My death? I blurted out.
„Shes worried that your death would impact severely upon her own spiritual progress, and with good reason, he said deliberately. I was momentarily perplexed by his statement because I failed to see how my death could be avoided, death was after all a monumental fact of life and I told him so.
He quietly assured me that is was not death per se that was the crucial issue regarding my mothers spiritual retardation, but rather the manner in which it occurred. „I doubt very much that my death by cancer, heart attack, mugging, car accident, old age, or sexual exhaustion for that matter, could possibly affect her at all, I said testily and anxious to know what he was driving at.
„It would if you took your own life, he said with such gravity that my spine tingled and every hair on my body stood on end.
His pronouncements had floored me completely and it were as if my thoughts themselves had become breathless from trying to keep up with figuring out how he could so accurately have deduced what he had. Something in me wanted desperately to believe that he had fluked the whole thing and thereby make him just a lucky mind reading dabbler, but intuitively I knew better because I had already experienced previous demonstrations of his talents. Then I heard him tell me, from what seemed like far away, that I need not fear such an occurrence because „our newassociation would create the events that would cancel out such an outcome. And then I vaguely felt him shake my hand and say, „See you at the next storm when well have better luck, before the lift door swallowed him and left me standing alone and dumbfounded in the cold and eerie corridor.
Chapter12.
“I smelt its perfume first, faint and unique, and following my nose [which is rather quite a large affair] I saw there blooming the sweetest flower, that of comradeship”…Grahame Crowe.
My first duty upon commencement of work the following morning was to pick up some medical supplies from the Stores department which fringes the extreme west boundary of the hospital and which is surrounded by simple gardens and always a welcome respite from the concrete tombs of the main buildings. As I entered the Stores grounds I spied Roy sitting in some kind of yogic position, face upturned and his bare torso soaking up the sun. He seemed at peace and so I decided not to disturb him, but as I walked by respectfully he called to me softly and suggested that when I was done doing what it was I had to do, we should sit and talk.
„Good to see you again, he said openly as I sat beside him. Then he asked if I had ever been to Stradbroke Island? I told him Id done so years ago but it had not impressed me in any real way, although I enjoyed the barge trip over and the hotel with its sea views. He enthusiastically suggested that on my next days off I should go and see an artist friend of his who lived on the Island. He assured me that I would be made most welcome and that I would enjoy myself thoroughly. „Theres a quality about that island, and if you enjoy art youll love Kens work. Ill make the arrangementsif you like. What do you say? His invitation took me by surprise, after all, we had only just met and here he was throwing out invitations I wasnt sure I even wanted to accept. But then before I could begin to analyse the pros and cons of his offer, something spontaneous suddenly accepted his offer. „Sure, why not, I replied without a scrap of deliberation. He grinned at me and with a wink and a tap on my knee said,„Thats the spirit, youre going with the flow.
„Have you e ver doneYoga? he asked. I shook my head in the negative. „Ill teach you some of the basics sometime, he said and without caring if I was interested or not, he started to expound upon the subject. According to his account it was an ancient practice specifically designed to tap the inherent energy of the Universe that was essential to the harmony, balance and overall well being of the organism. He admitted that Yoga was embraced by many that were not as such spiritually aware, but who were benefiting themselves with good health and mental equilibrium. And he was insistent in his stance that Yoga as a passive exercise regime could connect the self to deeper portions of the mind and trigger a neuronal activity that could lead to the emergence of psychic activity. He also talked about Tai Chi and various other practices that were of benefit to the mind and body and said again that he would be only too pleased to give me some basics lessons in either of the various disciplines if I so wished. I gave a condescending shrug and asked if he was a vegetarian as the disciplines advocated. He said he was which meant he did not eat animal or poultry products, save fresh fish on rare occasions. I wanted to know why he felt that meat was detrimental to our diet and he gave me a lengthy lesson in human biology, specifying the complaints and complications and diseases the body suffered as a result of long term meat consumption, and his gory lecture regarding the feeding, treatment, transportation and execution of animals and poultry left me not only nauseous, but much better informed. He summed up by assuring me that modern man with the complexities and complications of his society, were not only poisoning their own food and water, but also the agricultural means to produce further resources what with global soil erosion and industrys gargantuan output of pollutants into the earth, the air and waterways. „In short, „we are the only creature that not only shits in its own nest, but also bites the hand that feeds it, he said handing me a piece of paper on which he had scribbled Kens Stradbroke Island phone number.
I would like to have lingered longer but for the nagging concern that I might have been away too long from my work area. However I quickly reassured myself that I was well hidden up at this end of the hospital and I could always come up with a series of well founded excuses to explain my lengthy absence. For example, I helped a couple of patients into a taxi…I gave directions to a familylooking for a particular ward…I spent time picking up trash that was lying around the grounds…I gathered stray wheelchairs and returned them to their proper parking bays…I felt dizzy and had to sit for a while or I simply had the strongest urge to have a good old fashioned wank your honour, and you know how hard it is for meachieve an orgasm, dont you your holiness, or perhaps you dont, anyway thats why I am a little behind your calculated idea of my schedule. Im very sorry sir, it wont happen again…unless it does happen again, so fuck you too, etc, etc, etc. Suddenly Roy stood up with a quick jerk that seemed too agile for a man his age and said hed walk with me to the main building. Along the way he slipped me a ten-dollar note and asked me to purchase some cigars for him when next I was at a tobacconist.„See you around, he said with a cheery slap to my shoulder and then walked off towards another outside part of the hospital.
After giving it some thought overnight I decided to take up his invitation for Yoga, even if just to enjoy his company. When I caught up with him the following day I expressed my interest. „Thats wonderful, he said. „I like having a session just before the sun sets, how about at the Morgue at about five?
„Perfect. Ill be on lunch I replied, and then I extracted from my breast pocket two tins of cigars. „Theres two tins here he pointed out observantly.
„One for you, and one from me, I said giving him a touch to the shoulder. He thanked me and then ambled off along the corridor looking like some eccentric sage, smiling and nodding greetings to all he passed by.
The Morgue of all places, I thought as I made my way fifteen minutes earlier than planned to my rendezvous point. The „blue hut as the staff called it was a small square building situated atop a knoll of sloping ground. It was surrounded by a well cared for lawn and some delightfully arranged shrubs and flowerbeds. When I arrived he was meditating in what I knew to be the full Lotus pose which immediately reminded me of Bishop, of a young legless male patient I had got to know quite well with a shocking tale to tell. Apparently at the time of his horrific injury he was a full blown heroin addict and a practitioner of the full lotus pose. He told me it was his habit to sit in that position and shoot up and then go into his blissful state, or “on the nod” as he called it. Sadly however, he overdosed on one occasion and slumped into unconsciousness for thirteen hours in the assumed position which severely constricted the blood circulation to his legs causing irreparable tissue damage and onset gangrene which resulted in the amputation of both legs at the thigh.He couldnt cope with either the loss of his legs or his vicious addiction and it was not long afterwards that he committed suicide by way of a lethal overdose.
As I approached Roy I tried not to be an intrusion but he sensed my arrival and patted the ground next him. I sat down in a simple crosslegged position. „The King of Asanas, he said with reverence, patting his entwined thighs. „It took these old bones of mine several weeksto comfortably ease in and out of this position.
„Whats so good about it? I asked.
„It is the supreme pose to hold when meditating, he informed me. „When one is able to master the Lotus, its considered that one is ready for the joys of meaningful meditation. „So one cant meditate until one reaches that level? I asked slightly indignant. „One can always meditate and should, irrespective of the pose, he said. „And for that one can lie down, squat, sit on a chair or a broken bottle;it doesnt really matter for the early initiate. By combining a meditative mood with fluid Yoga positions, the mind and body become trained to work together; the one complements the other, he said looking into the late afternoon setting that spread out before us and inhaling deeply. „You must understand that I have adopted these esoteric disciplines and amended them wherever I thought them to be most applicable to myself, and you should do the same, he suggested advisedly.
I asked him how often one should perform Yoga and meditation and he said it was a discipline that craved its own regimen, and that one should develop one suited around ones own needs. For example, he practiced Yoga twice daily, in the morning and in the late afternoon, preferable during the dawn and sunset hour. He added that a full mooned night in a tranquil settingwas a must. „Ill meditate at the drop of a hat, he said, adding that he never tired of the peaceable effect he received from doing so, even if only for a few minutes. I asked him what the effects were of an intense meditation, to which he replied by saying that it was an individual experience. „But what especially is its purpose? I wanted to know. „To create a sense of inner peace and well being, a platform if you like, from which the restless and turbulent self can free itself, so to speak.
„To do what?
„To begin to redefine for itself a new criterionfor awareness, he replied.
„I take it you mean spiritual awareness, I said. He nodded his agreement and I was quick to remind him that there was no guarantee that it would happen.
„None whatsoever, he replied.
„What would get in the way of that happening? I wanted to know.
„The Ego, dear boy, he said nonchalantly. „It is the basic nature of the Ego to be protective and if it senses on the part of the conscious self that there is a fear associated with the acceptance of change, it will close access to the new knowledge in order to prevent potential stress and trauma. After all it is only doing its job, and it does so with tenacity. One must therefore befriend and convince the Ego that what you want is really what you want, so that it will want it for you also. In essence you must direct it; but to do so with uncertainty will only serve to arouse its defensiveness.
„This is merely psychological innuendo, is it not? „For me it is not innuendo, he replied calmly, „it is a reality that I embrace every day in an effective way and thereby I am both the cause and the effect of it in my life.
„For what purpose? I asked.
„For the purpose of improving the quality of ones life, he said flatly.
We sat in silence for several minutes, each mussing privately while watching the colourful shades and moods of the retiring day. At one point I had to thank him for his patience with my many questions and saidI hoped I wasnt being a burden. He punched me gently on my shoulder and assuredme otherwise. „On the contrary, your inquiries put me through my paces as a teacherand I thoroughly enjoy the challenge of that.
„Are you a teacher?
„Were all teachers, he said with honest humility. „Each one of us coming into the others life comes with a gift of learning, he said looking at me quizzically for a moment before ploughing on. „If we dont look at the people in our life in that manner,then theres a good chance we wont discover their gifts, will we? I grinned and said if that were so, what then was his gift to me?
„At this precise moment, he replied cheerfully, „I believe it is a Yoga lesson, and so saying he turned to look behind him towards a mixture of patients and staff that were approaching us. „And what is my gift to you? I asked with interest. He looked at me affectionately and said. „Your company until we part company.
My first Yoga session convinced me that there was indeed an essential energy inherent and operating within the discipline itself. The passiveness of the movements, their simply artistry and ease and subsequent control had a very vitalising effect upon me physically and mentally. And working in a group added to the sense of communal impetus. I discovered just how well the poses reached into the body, tugging at muscles with intent, massaging inner organs, lubricating the skeletal frame and increasing the vitality of the blood circulation. After the session I scooted back to my work arena feeling the glow of rejuvenation pulsing through me and of the belief that I had actually achieved something of worth. My choice to spend what valuable time I could with Roy before he went his way had already done me a great deal of good, and acting on an impulse I phoned Roys friend who lived on Stradbroke Island to introduce myself and was surprised to be made immediately welcome for the duration of my next days off, to which I had already decided to add the obligatory „sickie for which I had become painfully famous with my superiors.
Chapter13.
“The new encounter must always be viewed as an invitation to an experience of worth.”….Jacko Jackson.
Ken Ettick was about forty years old, whereas I had expected a man of Roys age. He was an outright hippie in appearance and attitude; a sharp surfer, quiet talker, intelligent and an exceptional talent to boot. He lived in a beautiful old Queenslander that he was adorned with collected art and artwork of his own and which exuded a strong Balinese-Indian type influence. The gardens were along Japanese lines with small ponds, dwarf bamboo, flowers and ornate carvings effectively placed among the shrubbery. It was a warm welcoming house with strong sunshine filling its open frame all day.
Ken, I discovered was something of a recluse; no woman, no family, no pool and no pets. Other than his artwork he had very little in the way of worldly possessions save three surfboards and several harmonicas which he played the bejesus out of. I liked him instantly. His manner was as casual as his dress and he set to show me around the island immediately. We trekked the beaches, swam, scaled the coastline and picnicked at a couple of the natural lakes that abound the area. He took me fishing and I recalled the old joy of just being out there amongst nature with a rod in my hand and my eye on the scenery. He also insisted that I have a go with his surfboard which was a fiasco, albeit a most pleasant one. The seawater revitalised me and the sun thawed the ice that had frozen my emotional love of the natural elements. Both the weather and the company were perfect and those first few days put me in touch once again with Nature and I could feel the old joy of the outdoors hook into me once more. In addition to this I found Kens art very compelling with his use of very heavy colour and contemporary social issues as his subject matter with which he created a semi surrealistic vision of a world partly dying and a world partly finding its spiritual renaissance. He painted chaos so raw that it slapped you hard in the face, and yet within the helplessness of it all, he allowed the glimmer of a hopeful renaissance to rescue the observer. His statues and collage and woodwork were also highly evocative.
From conversations with him I got to know something of Roys story. They known each other some three years, and it was obvious from his tone that he held him in high regard. „Hey man, he said in a moment of personal reflection, „that guy is like a saint to me. I asked him to elaborate and he went out to his studio and returned with a large folder filled with photographs of his art and his house and his life as it had been years before. Everything in the photos was different from how they now were in the present. Ken was fat, and in a couple of photographs he looked positively unhealthy. There were shots of him and his woman at the time and they both looked stern and troubled. But it was his art at that time that made the deepest impression upon me; it was dark and depressive and lacked any real imaginative appeal. I went through photo after photo and found his work quite soulless. And the photos of his home showed a residence virtually swamped and engulfed by vegetation; it was so at cross purposes with the garden that was now in existence.
„That w as who I used to be until I met that wise rooster, he said, referring to the pile of photos before us. „That was how I lived and that was what I painted and that was how the house mirrored the inner me, claustrophobic, frightened and slowly choking to death from the lack of true creative freedom. You see matey, I didnt really know who the fuck I was or how the fuck I wanted to live, and I was too gutless to try and find out. So instead I stayed trapped in my mediocrity and fear, he said flatly as he squinted in the sunlight. „What fear was that? I asked, flashing my gaze from the man in the folder to the man telling the story.
„The fear of being on my own.
„But you werent on your own, theres this woman here, I said addressing the photo of her. „Yea but she was part of the problem, you see, he spat. „As much as I thought I loved her, and as good as she was for me in certain ways, the whole relationship had become one of dependency…you know, Ill trade this if you give me that kinda thing. I mean she was like a great weight around my neck, holding me in place when I should have been out there, man, he said gesticulating with his brow to the outside world.
„And how did Roy change that for you? I asked with great interest.
„When I first met him, I was living like a timid mouse in this darkened house fenced off
from the outside worldby the jungle like fence Id built around myself. I used to open on
weekends to try and sell a few paintings, but nothing really sold…and man that can make
you morbid after a while. Fuck I thought I was good, but nobody was buying. Shiiit… I
thought I was being creative by churning out all these dull masterpieces, he said slapping
the folder that rested in my lap,„and the frustration was clawing at me like a rat in a cage,
which is basically what I fucking well was. He laughed and tossed his head back and his
long ponytail swished about. „You know matey, he declared, „I knew there was something
wrong but I couldnt work out what it was. And then that old fart to walks in here one day
and gives me a right royal kick up the arse, he said with a glorious chuckle.
„And how did he do that?
„With his foot, you fool, Ken said jokingly and I wondered if he was into punning? Should
I venture, I thought. Why not.
„So you could say he gave you a leg up the ladder, I said with a grin.
„Yea, I guess you could say that, he replied, leaving the punning scenario up in the air.
Well, if at first you dont succeed. „Sowhat youre saying is that with his help you got a
shoe in the art world, so to speak. He gave me a peculiar look which left it up to me to
continue. „I guess at first you thought he was a bit of a heel.
„I didnt know what to think, Ken shot back with look of bewilderment.
„I mean, was he towey with you?…again another look of perplexity.
Me again. „Sorry that was a knee jerk reaction.
He. „What?
Me. „Forgive me, Im not being very hip.
He. „Huh?
Me…realizing it was time to end the proceedings. „No seriously, tell me, how did he socket
to you? I asked, chuckling inwardly to myself. Ken ran his long thin fingers through his beard in an upward motion a few times as if trying to train his lengthy beard to spike out in an unruly fashion.
„I asked him what he thought of my work, and he asked if I was ready for the truth? I told him I was, thinking that maybe he would be the usual courteous critic that I had become almost immune to. We were sitting under that tree, he said pointing to the corner of his house block where a monstrous Moreton Bay Island fig tree spread out its arms like a giant green dense cloud, „and thats where the prick gave me both fucking barrels.
„He asked me who my favourite Australian painter was. I told him immediately it was the Bribie Island artist, Ian Fairweather who Id admired all my life. He asked me why and I told him how much I respected such a gutsy cat that could walk away from social involvement with the world at large and become a complete recluse and devote his whole self to his art.Its no wonder really when you know what kind of childhood the poor bastard had…but that is exactly what I always wanted to do... go native and dig up my own depths as an artist and thanks for the offer, but fuck you. He shook his head with several small gestures and then smiled gleefully. „But that day with Roy I realised thats what I desperately needed to do…and when he gave me his opinion of my art, well that just nailed the fuckin coffin shut, he said before he repeated verbatim Roys proffered artistic criticism that day.
“Your art at present,” Roy said, “like the house you live in and the person you are, is like a seedling in the darkness dying for want of light and rain and room to breathe and stretch and reach up to its full stature in the forest of its true self. You are this ineffectual force rendered helpless by your fear and incapable of growth, which you so vitally need. Now, if you desire to change all of that, then you must choose again, and this time you must challenge thatfear in you…for only by doing so will you and your art flourish; otherwise you are dead as an artist.” Ken inhaled deeply before continuing with his intriguing tale. „And I didnt know what my fear w as, until that old fart poked me in the eye with it.
„He said that I had a fear of being on my own, that I had spent a lifetime attaching myself woman figures, first my mother and then the lovers in my life, in order to feel safe and not alone; when in truth my deeper self desperately needed to become detached just as Ian Fairweather had, so that I could find my true artistic self. The cheeky bastard actually told me that I had repeatedly picked women who would mother and smother me instead of pushing me from the nest of my comfort zone to test the wings of my own personality. The prick actually said that we all were like anchors looking for a ship, but what he was really saying was that they we were all leeches looking for a host. And Matey, Ill never forget the last comment he made.Man, it was real defining moment; I can tell you…it changed everything. He said,“Life is an exercise of choices. You can stay safe and starve your work …or break free and breathe life into your art.”
„I tell you matey, what he said stayed in my head for weeks till finally I knew I had act. Of course Gemm wouldnt have it…she didnt want to change things because she had her own fears and dependency issues and it became one ugly shit fight. She got a real hatred on for me, gotthe fuckin parasite lawyers in and forced me to put this place on the market. Man, I couldnt believe that someone who claimedto be such a good fuckin Christian could be so greedy and revengeful. Jesus, the last thing I wanted to lose was my home here on the island, especially afterId invested the lions share in buying it…but praise to the Universe, my parents bailed me out with a loan.
„Then I went to work on finding myself, he said and detailed to me how he started by hitch hiking around the countryside, just going with the flow and working where he could and learning to be on his own. „I lived like that for two years and then I made the final leap of fear, he said with obvious pride.„I went to India alone and came back a different dude, and let me tell you…the fear had gone. I cleared the shit around the house, let the sunshine in and started to paint the stuff you see now. I opened up my home as a gallery and now I sell paintings on a regular basis I have three showings a year, one in Brisbane, one in Sydney and one on the island.Thats what Roy fuckin Holl did for me and thats why I think hes a bloody saint.
„What became of Gemm? I asked as my eye