The intensity of the Lennon adventure is soothed by the rain outside my bedroom. The fire ravaged regions of Victoria are experiencing a soothing remedy from Mother Nature. Her elixir is cleansing – attempting to wash away the blackened remnants of the fiery hell of the past few weeks.
Our retreat high above the town of Daylesford is replete in cozy comfort with sensual spa sojourns and walls lined with mandalas, Irish poets and fairy magic.
Yesterday I experienced a healing massage from a woman talented in many healing modalities. Her gifts are being integrated into her practice and she is realizing her individualistic potential. The healing room greeted me with a portrait of a familiar presence in my life; an Indian guide who has been with me throughout my own personal alchemy. His eyes always focused on the beauty within while extracting fear and negativity from my mind, body and spirit.
Crystals under the table connected with drawings of Archangels, and other ethereal beings. The massage was a transient intermission into my magical mystery tour. This weekend has been a dream for so long. I’ve dreamt about it, imagined it outcomes a thousand times over and now I am living it. This dream is culminating with the ultimate healing gift from another human being while I am transported to a soft cozy slumber outside the confines of my body.
The healing over I discussed the experience with my personal Sharman. We exchanged contact details with a promise to share future revelations. Both of us knew that this was the interplay of synchronicity and something rather phenomenal was taking place.
I returned to the retreat and sunk into a spa to immerse myself within the day’s events. My husband and brother joined me and we philosophized and surmised our way through the Lennon Legacy. Our opinions’ entwined as we extracted tiny morsels of memorabilia and dissected incidents, messages and motives.
We all grieved the loss of a significant human being and were resolved to take his memory and the experiences back into our daily lives. After showers and some personal primping we left the house searching for a wholesome country feed.
The recommended eatery was “bookings only” and we were slightly disappointed – well for a few seconds while we negotiated an alternative. I suggested a take home Indian meal with a homey cozy prediction of warmth and a Concert for George. Why not? We must consider another of John’s expats – shouldn’t we?
The music of Ravi Shanka uplifted the Indian cuisine and intermingled our snese while we observed the likeness of George’s son, Danhi. Throughout the concert we all remarked how Harrison’s life took its own twists and turns as he fed his spirit with the sublime of Monty Python – the insight and depth of Give me Peace on Earth to the penultimate of My Sweet Lord.
A musical tapestry of his legacy enchanted us as we devoured lyrics and melodies that marched across our memories signposting significant stages in our own personal journey.
Albert Hall erupted as Ringo appeared on stage in a red beaded jacket. My brother remarked how he would love one just that it. Ringo introduced, Paul (another of George’s friends).
You could feel George beam with pride as his mates played tantric memories of his existence. The Concert concluded with rose petals falling from the roof over the stage and crowd. Muscians, friends, collaborators and spiritual masters left the stage with George’s family but I felt that the soul of George remained lingering in the euphoria of the celebration.
He was a Piscean man, talented and deep wanting to express his soul urge through words and music. From my perspective, he was a sensitive soul who was swept up in the tidal wave of the mania of the masses.
I’ve not had a strong personal connection with him over the decades but I’ve been aware of his messages lingering out along the rim of my personal experiences. I know he loved Australia – at least the Great Barrier Reef. The pristine waters of our coral outcrop soothed his Neptunian soul. I am delighted to know that – I am glad that our country could offer some respite from the clinging claw of fame.
I hope he has found peace in his own spiritual realm enchanted by the prophets and masters who inspired all of us in their wise choices and delicate footprints along the path of enlightenment. I believe we all must find our way – sure influenced by the thought, words and deeds of others while dis-entangling the unworthy negative yarn and weave in the most robust and royal hues into our cloth. Eventually crafting the cloth into a garment that only fits who we are or who we deserve to be – don’t you think?
Give me love
Give me love
Give me peace on earth
Give me light
Give me life
Keep me free from birth
Give me hope
Help me cope, with this heavy load
Trying to, touch and reach with,
Heart and soul
Peace and Love,
Mind, body and spiritual connections