Love & The Goddess (19 page)

“No. I don’t have that kind of faith. I won’t go for the visible surgery. I’d prefer an invisible operation.”

A man in his late twenties limped towards the podium, struggling on two crutches. Immediately, the Healer walked down to him, and roared something in Portuguese. The translator cried out,
“Wake up all of you who do not believe! You need to see something? Then pay attention!” Taking the crutches, the Healer held the man’s hands, urging him to walk with him. The man
took four steps and then the Healer let go of his hands. “
Vir passear
– come walk!”

The man stumbled forward, one foot entangled in the other, and then like a young gosling found his feet and made two full steps … then three … four … and finally reached the
wall. After a long, collective intake of breath from all in the room, Ella and I joined in the resounding applause. “Are you going to join the queue?” I asked Ella. She was always
complaining of reflux and digestive upsets.

“Nah, I’ll leave it a few days in case he forces those awful herbs on me. I don’t want to take them just yet because you can’t drink with them. I’m going outside
for air. Are you all right here by yourself?” She disappeared in the direction of the door while I joined the queue behind a woman pushing her young son in a wheelchair.

As I got closer to the Healer, I was gripped by a sudden terror. I expected that most sinister version of Mozart’s
Dies Irae
, the theme music from
The Shining
, to start up
any minute. My hands were sweaty and shaking. In my head, I silently called on the Holy Spirit to protect me in case Aunt Marge’s superstitions proved true. Once I felt that connection to a
source I trusted and believed in, I relaxed. The Holy Spirit had always been my number one when I needed a bit of help from the other side.

When I arrived in front of the Healer, he took my hand in his, eyes piercing me with a warm intensity. I sensed a sudden change come over me – a lightness I hadn’t felt in years. My
fears were evaporating and time was standing still. Tears ran down my cheeks as a huge surge of compassion and unconditional love – and something much, much greater – emanated from the
man in front of me. Everything was happening in slow motion. I knew I was I experiencing something out of the ordinary – something which would be belittled by an effort to describe it or
touch it in any tangible form. I would have difficulty explaining this to Ella, whereas I knew instinctively that James would understand.

The Healer spoke to the translator, who told me that he had prescribed herbs along with three sessions on a crystal bed. My elated mood sank a little as I had been hoping for an invisible
operation which supposedly has all the benefits of surgery without the trauma. Resigned, I went outside and made my way to the booking office to arrange appointments for crystal bed sessions in the
days ahead.

A
fter booking the crystal bed sessions, I went in search of the pharmacy which I discovered was a hatch on the side of an adjacent ashram
building. Queuing behind nine other pilgrims, I quickly arrived to face the blue-clad attendants who worked swiftly in dispensing prescription herbs in capsule form. Just as I was leaving, I saw
Ella cross the wide open space from the main building where she’d obviously been hanging around near the soup hatch.

“Don’t take any of those herbs yet, Kate. We’ve been invited to a party this evening and they clash with alcohol.”

“Where’s the party?” I asked suspiciously.

“I have the address here.” She showed me a business card.

“Adolfo Gomez. Who is he? Where did you meet him? You can’t possibly know anything about him.”

“I met him while I was enjoying a bowl of soup at the café. He’s perfectly respectable! C’mon, let’s get some lunch and decide what we’re going to wear
– we need to do something light-hearted.”

There was no dissuading Ella from going to the party. Only she could find some frivolous diversion in a place of pilgrimage, whereas I wished to experience the possibility of a miracle or at the
very least some inner transformation. After lunch I returned to the ashram and tried what they call “sitting in current”, the name given to meditating in the healer’s presence in
any of three adjoining “current rooms”. I assumed that since I had been meditating regularly, it should be easy for me to do it here.

Apparently not! The packed room, aired by just a couple of fans, was humid and sticky and I found it difficult to calm my thoughts and stay present. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and I
shifted my posture in an effort to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench. My body still ached from the long plane and coach journey and the prospect of sitting still for two full hours was a
daunting one. I was in mid-yawn when an angry mosquito began buzzing around my head. Unconsciously, I opened my eyes and waved my hands in an effort to shoo away the pest.
“Keep your eyes
closed and your hands on your lap.”
A blue-coated assistant was addressing the crowd, but she had her eyes on me. In an effort to conform, I lasted fifteen minutes longer before gathering
up my belongings to leave for the
poussada
. I vowed to try harder tomorrow.

It was with great reluctance that I got ready to go out that evening, since I would have preferred to spend time writing in my journal before taking an early night. But there
was no dissuading Ella, who called for me at eight to tell me our black cab was waiting. The driver took off at speed up the main street before turning down a side road with high white walls on
either side.

“It seems very quiet for a party. Are you sure you have the right night?” I asked as Ella paid the taxi driver and we got out on the silent street in front of what appeared to be a
plain pebble-dash house. With its continuous high wall running along the side, it was difficult to make out its exact size or shape.

“I fibbed. It’s a double date. Oh don’t be mad, Kate. Nothing serious – just a bit of male company. They’re fine. Virtual monks, if you ask me. Hey, you can even
team up with the good-looking guy.”

“Are you mad? They could be crazies!” I was about to turn away when the wrought-iron door opened wide.

“Hello, ladies,” said one of the most fascinating-looking men I had ever met. Of indeterminable age, anywhere between thirty-five and fifty, his facial features were so strong and
outrageously unusual, he qualified as both ugly and beautiful. Ebony black skin, wide nose, wide lips, cheekbones so sharp they could slice cheese. With huge expressive eyes and a charming smile,
the effect was totally disarming. “We’ve been expecting you. Adolfo’s inside. I’m Nat.”

Ella smiled at me and I felt as if I was compelled by a supernatural force to go along with whatever was about to unfold, despite wondering had I taken leave of my senses. As we followed Nat
through the house, Ella nudged me, nodding at his trim torso visible through a black t-shirt over denim-clad snake hips. With his graceful, animal-like stride, he led us down the cool white
stucco-plastered corridor into a large villa-style living room. There he introduced me to Adolfo, a short, stocky man in his early fifties with an air of business and a whiff of Cuban cigars about
him. Ella had told me on the way there that Adolfo was originally from Rio de Janeiro, but she hadn’t told me anything about this other man.

“Where are you from Nat?” I asked, after we got over the initial pleasantries.

“I grew up in LA with a Jamaican mother and a father who was half-Brazilian and half-American.”

“And where did you two meet each other?”

“I worked in LA for a while,” said Adolfo. “Our wives became best friends. I’m divorced now and back in Rio, and Nat’s lovely wife passed on two years ago. But we
still get together, and I keep this place here for whenever I come to see the Healer, maybe twice a year. Would you like some wine, ladies, or something non-alcoholic?”

Judging by the elaborate mosaic tiles on the floor, I guessed Adolfo was wealthy to afford a place like this merely for the odd visit. Not having started my herbs yet, I agreed to one glass of
wine as I sank into the squishy tan leather sofa beside Nat. I wished Ella would stop winking. It was becoming very obvious. Soon the conversation was flowing along with the wine. I was on my
second glass. The two men were interesting, both mellow and gentle in the way people who meditate regularly appear to be. Adolfo said he had become less hung up on making lots of money after he
underwent a two-year battle with cancer, which had now been in remission for over seven years. Nat’s wife had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer and Adolfo had suggested she visit the Healer,
and stay in his house.

Nat took up the story: “Lexie didn’t recover but she lived a year longer than any doctor predicted and she gained a great acceptance of death, for which we were both grateful. While
she was ill, we visited the Healer four times and Lexie found an inner peace she’d never had in her life before. She was so devoted to him, she used to kiss his feet each time she came. She
really loved the energy in the ashram and the village.”

“This place is very peaceful and so is this house. The view is amazing.” Outside the window, a gentle breeze nudged graceful hibiscus trees to salsa in and out towards each other
while displaying their dark green leaves and trumpet-shaped pink and purple flowers, as if intentionally attracting the large bumble bees that clustered around them.

“You need to see the view from the balcony upstairs,” Nat said.

“I’d love to. I could do with a bit of air.” Following Nat upstairs, I wondered why Ella and Adolfo hadn’t joined us. At the top of the stairs, Nat turned right into an
open space, at the end of which stood a set of double French doors. These he slid sideways, before waving his hand for me to step through before him. I gasped as the most spectacular view stretched
before my eyes. The chirping of crickets filled the air, scented with bougainvillea and pine. Tall trees forested the slopes of the untamed valley, while yuccas, cacti and vines flooded the garden
below. As we stood there a flock of yellow butterflies fluttered within arm’s reach. “It’s wonderful,” I said. There was a long silence. Eventually, I dared ask, “Why
do you come back here, now that your wife has passed on?”

He said, picking a leaf from a mint plant on a tall wrought iron stand, “I have problems with addiction. That’s why I’ve come to see the Healer.”

“Addiction to what?” It just slipped out before I realised how intrusive the question was. “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to tell me …” Hiding my
confusion, I raised my glass to my mouth.

Nat didn’t look like I was intruding. He turned, smiling softly. “I am a sex addict.”

I swallowed my wine in a gulp, hastily averting my eyes to study a nearby jacaranda blossom. I could feel a hot blush turning my face bright red.

He said, “It sounds worse than it is, Kate. I’m not a sexual deviant. I became very promiscuous after Lexie died and I used sex as a drug. Believe me, a lot of people have this
addiction and will never own up to it. Someone addicted to porn, even if he or she has never had sex, could be classified as a sex addict. If you understand the nature of addiction you will know
that addicts cannot bear to feel their feelings, finding emotions too raw, their wounds too deep to touch. Instead they act out with inappropriate behaviour to dull the pain, but their lives
eventually spiral out of control.”

“Sorry. It sounds so ...” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I wanted to say perverted and realised how judgemental that would sound. After all, I didn’t really know
anything about the nature of addictions.

“Dangerous? No don’t worry. I assure you I’m not a rapist. And I try hard to practice celibacy because it’s essential for me. I’ve started a new relationship with a
lovely girl. We’ve been dating for three months now and our relationship is celibate because I know now that if a relationship starts out being sexual, then my judgement gets clouded. I need
it to work on the friendship and trust level first, which is difficult.”