SUNDAY IN MEMORY LANE (Episode 31)

Nothing is permanent.....

I managed to speak to my Grandmother who lived in Hackney, a district of London, at that time. She had been living alone for more than a decade since her beloved husband died. She had a simple ground floor flat, rented from the Crown Estates, and was cared for by my mother who lived very nearby.

Between my mother and my grandmother I learned that Hackney was being over-run by cockroaches! I shuddered. I had dealt with cockroaches lurking in the working parts of our laundrette machines back in the 70s - an indelible revulsion had set in…..

I meditated and came to a vision of a beautiful two-bedroomed bungalow close to me in Essex and my brother, Roy, buying it. A simple solution which I set about transmitting to my younger brother from that moment forward. I added a nice garden and a garage to my vision…

Meanwhile, of course, I was heavily dedicated to studying Traditional Chinese Medicine and helping Richard build his business. We became good friends.

It was thanks to Richard that I learned about my previous lives.

THE MISSION

One day Richard talked about one of his clients who had died. This man had bequeathed Richard £10,000 to set up a clinic dedicated to helping addicts of all kinds.
Richard and his wife Bridie were keen to open that clinic, this time in central Colchester. They worked on a business plan and were offered office space in a building which housed several charities.

I arranged a day festival, booked several local bands and contributed the revenue to our new charity. My closest friend at that time was an amazing artist, Katie Hunt and she helped a lot with decorating the shabby office space, everybody chipped in donations and equipment to make that new clinic happen.

It all seemed to go so fast because we were so busy, but it actually took us nearly a year to complete the registration of Open Road as a charity. Looking back on it now, that was the beginning of the end of Open Road. The registration comes with strings, you see. If your charity is providing any sort of healing you must have a representative from the NHS, a Doctor and a Solicitor on your Board of Directors. In time, they will overrule everything and you will be forced to use their system and therapies only.

That is precisely what happened to Open Road. We were able to help a number of addicts and were gaining a positive reputation on the streets because we referenced our clients by nicknames and kept no records of their true identity and home address. At the time the stigma attached to an HIV positive test was so great that it could cost your career and consequently your home. People were avoiding being tested also, because they had heard bad things about the ‘treatment’ they could expect from the NHS.

I witnessed some of it first hand and it was distasteful, in the extreme.
I was about to open the office one morning when I found one of our clients slumped on the doorstep. He was in a bad way, barely conscious. I called an ambulance and went to the hospital with him. This guy had injected diazepam into his groin and his legs were swelling enormously and painfully.

I had to get a full steam up to draw attention in that hospital. They told me that self-inflicted injuries don’t merit sympathy! I really must have lost my temper because I cannot remember much else beyond racing back to the office incensed!

Then the thumbscrews came out. We were not to provide anonymous HIV testing any more. All staff had to be trained by an NHS Outreach course. We were discouraged from using Chinese Herbs, massage, aromatherapy and crystals.

The pressure to adopt NHS identification of our clients was the final straw on the camel’s back. We, the founders, all resigned closely followed by the voluntary therapists and receptionists. Open Road grew into a monster which had stolen our idea and distorted it to fit under the wing of the NHS. It was a very sad ending to a wonderful project which had absorbed all our time and energy for two years.

I had one massive bonus gift from that period. I had met my boss’s professor and she lived quite near to me. We had formed a friendship and she, Dr Mai Chen, continued to instruct me in my studies after Richard moved away. She was a retired examining professor from Beijing University and her English was almost perfect. She lived in a huge house on the seafront of Frinton with her five crazy Pekinese dogs. She was the best kind of teacher imaginable. She always had time for questions and her answers were always gold. She contributed a lot to my understanding.

It was around this time that I heard from my mother that my brother Roy had just bought them a lovely bungalow in Little Clacton. “Does it have two bedrooms and a garage?” I inquired, mischievously, and my mother immediately realised that I had been ‘psychically instrumental’ in the events. I made her promise never to tell my brother, to let him believe that the idea was entirely his own.

Becoming unemployed at that time was quite convenient. I was able to help my mother and my grandmother move from their two London homes to this lovely bungalow and I was free to decorate it as my mother wished. I painted my grandmother’s bedroom a soft lilac colour but she couldn’t see it. That was when we realised that her vision was dimming. She always did like to turn the colour up very bright on her TV. Now we understood why.

By this time I had passed the first few courses in Traditional Chinese Medicine. I had diagnostics, acupuncture and herbal medicine under my belt and was working on learning the many massage techniques from Dr Mai Chen.

In the process of study I had acquired all I needed to open my own clinic and I did so, very informally at first, using my dining room as a consultation room. I was surprised how quickly my reputation bloomed locally. I did not need to advertise, the jungle drums were beating my tune.

I was invited to give talks on the topic of TCM and very soon my diary was a cramped place. It was astonishing how much need there was in my community. I saw clients from noon until nine almost every day. Most of them could barely afford to pay for their herbal formula. It became painfully obvious that being sick usually goes hand in hand with poverty. So I would say “pay me when you are well!” and later I would receive some wonderful gifts, like hanging crystals, a collection of which have travelled with me everywhere ever since. They are precious reminders of a very happy period in my life.

It was a huge privilege to help people recover their health. It would overwhelm me with amazement and gratitude sometimes. Of course, I had a few failures, but I did not kill anyone…. as far as I know!

My mother and I met for lunch occasionally in a nice local restaurant. I remember one question that she asked me because it took me by surprise. “If you had to choose between Chinese medicine and Jay, which would you choose?” she asked during the meal. I did not see why I should need to choose between the two, but she insisted I thought about it and answered her. My spidey sense was triggered. Maybe she was observing something that I was oblivious to?

Jay and I had been living together for about five years and we had discussed getting married. I didn’t want to do a formal wedding and asked for a hand-fasting in the garden. He seemed happy enough with the idea and we had a wonderful garden party to celebrate the occasion. My grandmother amused me the following day when I was looking after her. She said that she had been at a wedding and the people had jumped through a fire! “Yes, Nan!” I said, “That was me!” and she squinted to see my face. That is when I realised that my dear old Nan was also getting a little senile.

With the Women’s Group we had attended a weekend workshop in Gabrielle Roth’s Ecstatic Dance and we had been very impressed with the way it made us feel. We began to borrow a large room every Wednesday evening and were using it to practice some Chi Gong warm ups followed by intense sessions of Ecstatic Dance. We did not have electricity in that building and so the atmosphere there was very calming with candles, incense and battery powered music. At the end of each evening we would sit in a circle and chat for a while. I really valued those regular diversions from my hectic life. It was very grounding and contributed a great deal to my fitness.

We were still playing softball as a team every Sunday during the summer months. Kate and I were swimming in the early mornings and taking part in Tai Chi demonstrations occasionally to promote our club.

Our activism for animals and against war continued to occupy some of our time… we were ‘very active’ to say the least! Looking back on it now, I really don’t know how we managed to fit so much into our days. I remember it as a very happy period in my life.

Dan had returned from Scotland and was dating a local girl, on and off. She was a volatile young single parent who brought a number of new female friends into our social circle.

Dan and his friends were around twenty-four in 1996 when their twelve year solid friendship suddenly cracked and went pear-shaped….. As a result everything changed dramatically.

As I said sadly, in the title of this chapter - Nothing is permanent.