Part 1 of Kavindra’s series, Glimpses of a Life
Yesterday I went for a kinesiology session. The woman suggested I write down everything I had ever done as far back as I could remember. Of course I was remembering back over 65 years of things I had done. Nevertheless, I started, and was a bit surprised that right away I filled four or five pages with more than one hundred things I could remember I had done. Halfway through I realised that almost all of what I had written down were very ‘positive’ things. I realised there were things I had done which might not have fallen into that ‘positive’ category. That’s when I noticed judgment creeping in! Also, for some reason I felt some reluctance to journal the more hidden side of myself. I guess I have an image of myself as this colourful, cheery, witty, intelligent guy… although I can acknowledge there is another side to me, such as particular preferences I have which might not fall into the mainstream of social mores. There is also the fact that my emotions are very close to the surface. I feel very sensitive. It’s easy for me to become intolerant, angry, frustrated, about the simplest things.
My assay into self-inquiry, begun many years ago, has brought me to a very alone space… and so this has been perhaps the most challenging chapter of my life so far.
I feel the inner journey began in my late thirties. I had a successful office chair business which I ran practically single-handed. (Later I had a bookkeeper and a van man.) In tandem with that, I was a very successful singer, actor, entertainer. This spanned almost every type of theatre from street performing to opera, corporate entertainment, revue, panto, straight theatre, cabaret and more besides. My great talent was to make people laugh. I was born with this innate talent – something which could never be ‘learned’ or taught. A great and rare gift. I was during those times ‘kingpin’ at my trade, and nobody else in the country was doing anything remotely as original.
It was towards the end of that theatre period that something changed. I had been performing for fifteen or twenty years and was well established and in demand, in Dublin mainly, but also around the country. What brought about the profound change was an offer to play the role of Jack Point, a jester, in the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta The Yeoman Of The Guard. Basically the story is of unrequited love. He loved her but she loved somebody else. In the Finale, he dies of a broken heart (the only G&S operetta to end with the death of the principal character). As I had sung many of these roles, they pleaded with me to play, as they obviously thought the part was tailor-made. It was true, and that was why I turned it down. It was too close to the bone for me to ‘act’ the part. It was me!
Thereafter, I began to withdraw from performing in a more general way. Slowly I began turning down gigs. When this happens, people stop phoning, and so eventually I ceased performing altogether.
All during this period, I was not happy in my marriage. I was not satisfied sexually, and, given the theatrical context of my life, it was easy for me to find willing partners to attach myself to.
As my focus shifted more to what was going on inside me, I attended what was known then as ‘marriage counselling’. There are some things that are broken and cannot be fixed. My marriage was one of them. It did stagger along for many years but, in essence, all my promises of ‘in sickness and health, for richer for poorer, till death do us part’ were blown to the four winds. After the marriage counselling came to an end, I still felt I wanted to know what was ‘wrong’ with me. At this point I could remember clearly as a child being asked, by my mother especially, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ in a very condemnatory way.
There was nothing ‘wrong’ with me, but having that question thrown at me angrily time after time, made me believe there really was something wrong with me! But I was simply marching to my own drumbeat, and in the late 1950s and early 60s, this was really not something to be admired and encouraged. Quite the opposite! If I didn’t toe the family line, then I was out of step and, more crucially, out of favour, amongst my other four siblings.
Of course, in those times there was no space and no tools with which to deal with an obstreperous boy as there might be now. My parents simply weren’t equipped to deal with my situation. So I was left for the most part to my own devices. I’ll add here that my parents were very busy people involved in music, sport, broadcasting, travelling, so they were not there a lot of the time.
Fast forward. Post theatre life, I became more and more anxiety-ridden. Eventually I decided, on someone’s recommendation, to go see a certain ex-priest. This man was in his 80s and, when we chatted, I felt he had some compassion. One day I remember so well, I was in a very angry, depressed state going to him. I was determined to say nothing for the whole session. I went in at four o’clock and sat. I said nothing. For forty-five minutes I said nothing. Nor did he. Quite an achievement! Eventually, just as the time was up, he raised his head and said, ‘Raymond, what’s the matter…’ Well, I just burst into tears for the next five minutes or more. The session ended then.
This was the beginning of the Psychotherapy period of my life. I moved on from that old priest to perhaps three different therapists, looking for answers I didn’t know the question to. At each different therapist, I remember clearly feeling I was at a point where I couldn’t learn anything more, or go any further. It was quite a natural progression without any real effort.
Shortly after that, I saw an ad in the daily newspaper for a course in ‘practical philosophy’ at a school in Dublin. It really caught my eye and I immediately decided I would go and see what it was all about. It was my first introduction to a meditation technique. We would sit silently with eyes closed while the facilitator gave various instructions such as, ‘Feel the weight of your body on the chair, feel your feet on the floor, feel the clothes against your skin, take in the sounds around you…’ and so on. Basically getting in touch with all the senses. I can remember feeling quite good after the fifteen minutes. Afterwards there was discussion about it which was interesting enough to keep me attending, sometimes twice a week. At some point this organisation, or school, wanted to draw me further in. They took me aside one evening and indicated they would like me to become more integrated in the school. As part of this integration I was asked to donate a significant percentage of my salary to them. The very mention of money, in this context, immediately provoked a very strong reaction, and at once I decided not to return. The end of another chapter.
All during this period I was living, for the most part, away from the family home. However, as by this time I had two young daughters, I was very present in their lives. And as I was my own boss, I could come and go as I pleased, and I was very pleased to able to collect them from school, ballet, swimming, music, play with them, travel with them and so on. My business furniture was doing very well and I was enjoying a very successful lifestyle. By this time I was in a relationship with a white South African woman. We were living together in Dublin but within a short period we moved to West Wicklow where she worked with me in my business.
Things did not turn out well, and after one major argument where I basically lost my temper and went into a rage, she immediately left in one of the company cars, never to return. Within a day or two, I received a phone call from her saying, essentially, if she didn’t get 30,000 Euros from me within a few days, she was going to report me to the police for threatening to kill her, and have me up for unfair dismissal. End of conversation!
I was completely in shock. I didn’t accede to the demands but instead awaited the moment when I would be paid a visit by the police. Sure enough, one day while I was sitting in the conservatory, I looked down the lane and saw a police car coming up the driveway. I was shitting myself, frankly. They cautioned me and told me my ex had gone to the police and made a statement. They had to follow it up. In addition, I got a letter from the Employment Appeals Tribunal to answer a case of unfair dismissal. At this time in Hollywood, Co Wicklaw, I was part of the committee that were organising the building of a new community hall. I was raising a significant amount through a limited draw which was to raise in the region of 25,000 Euros. The culmination of the draw was to take place after a concert I was organising in the National Concert Hall Dublin: The Lindsay Singers, which was my mother’s choir, famous in Dublin. They were the headline act.
This was a seriously stressful time for me. How I didn’t go over the edge, I don’t know. The concert was a success. As far as the assault charge, I had, after many months of mental torture and waiting, been told the case would not be taken any further.
At the unfair dismissal tribunal, I realised – after one day – how stressful it is to be in any court of any kind in order to be judged by someone. I told my solicitors to give her the money and thus put an end to this long drawn-out agony. Immediately after, I remember going back to Wicklow, having a lovely meal, buying a box of chocolates for myself and watching a video, Anger Management! I laugh when I remember that day. It was one of the great days. Such a weight off my shoulders. I could relax again.
By this time my heart had completely gone out of my business. It was at its lowest point in twenty-five years. Sales were almost none. I had just paid out thirty thousand Euros. What to do? Just pull the door closed behind me and throw the key away? Then, in a moment from somewhere, a small voice prompted me to consider selling my company! Where this notion came from I have no idea. I thought, who would want to buy this small office-seating company in such a financial state? But I followed through and sent about four letters to companies in the same business, specialist seating. Lo and behold, a company I had bought chairs from indicated they were interested in buying it. They were manufacturers of very ordinary seating. They were the ‘Nissan Micras’ of the seating while I was the ‘Mercedes Benz’. It would add another string to their bow. I couldn’t believe that they were offering 350,000 Euros for my little company (I had a very good reputation and a lot of blue-chip clients and suppliers), in its present financial state. But, they did their due diligence and duly paid. Amazing. I could hardly believe how lucky I was. I stayed with them for a year to help out and then moved out of the business completely.
It was during this time in Hollywood, Co. Wicklow, where I was heavily involved in the community, that I became great friends with Kevin and Triona Phelan. Triona had studied Fine Arts but was also very into Yoga. They had a magnificent house in the woods on a property of 13 acres. I began to attend Yoga classes there and eventually ended up in India. For the next three years I travelled to India to attend the Yoga Shala (school). Then, as with every other episode in my life, it came to an end. I continued to practise occasionally but eventually stopped altogether.
It was about then I decided to start travelling. Rent out my house and go somewhere. I wasn’t sure where – but somehow I ended up back in India, this time in Kashmir. I intended to go trekking again, this time from the Indian side of the Himalayas. I travelled to Srinigar and stayed on a beautiful old colonial houseboat on Lake Dal. I arranged for trekking with a contact I had and prepared for the two-week trip. There were two guides with two horses carrying my gear plus tents and food.
We set off from above the city of Srinigar, which is about 2000m in altitude. So the air was already a bit thin. We camped at the end of the first day. I was in a tent and the very basic food was prepared over a fire. At this point I need to explain that I’m someone who is used to everything 5-star. This situation was as far from 5-star as you could imagine! I slept very badly on slightly sloping ground.
On waking the next day to this very basic lifestyle, and also trying to acclimatise to the sudden elevation change, I wasn’t feeling very good. I had a feeling of, Do I really want to spend the next two weeks like this? After a cigarette and an hour or so, I realised that I didn’t, and decided to abandon the trip altogether. Much to the surprise of the guides, we returned to Srinigar, where I stayed several more nights on the houseboat. I decided I was going to head to Goa via Delhi and then back to Ireland. I booked my flights and prepared to leave.
I stayed overnight in Delhi as my flight to Goa wasn’t until the next day.
That evening I decided to go for a stroll around Delhi. I was walking through the city when I saw a guy selling books on the side of the footpath. I looked at the selection and saw The Lonely Planet Guide to India. A mighty tome by the way. I purchased the book and went back to my hotel room to skim over it. I saw this and that about various places, and then I came upon a section on Poona. It told about what was referred to as the ‘cashram’ and the ‘sex guru’. From some unknown source I decided I was going to go and ‘have a look’ without any regard to already-booked flights. I did not know the profound effect this would have on the rest of my life.
To be continued…
Images by the author, photo of Hollywood credit to visitwicklow.ie
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