Read Love & The Goddess Online
Authors: Mary Elizabeth Coen
I was humbled by Nat’s frank admission and felt a surge of admiration for him as I watched him pick another leaf from the mint plant to chew in absent-minded fashion. “That’s
what I always thought, partly because I was brought up as a Catholic, but also because it felt safe. Then what do I do? At an age when I should know better, I go to bed with a bollocks on the
second date.” I winced. “Excuse me, that’s my new word for someone despicable.”
“We all have to learn our own way of being in the world, Kate, and sometimes it’s through our mistakes we learn most of all.”
“So … Meeting me tonight? Why did you agree to it?”
“I love the company of women. That doesn’t mean I need to seduce every woman I meet. Don’t get me wrong. I’d still like to, but I’m learning restraint.”
Listening to him talk like that, I was reminded of being told inappropriately at fourteen years of age by a woman I baby-sat for, that the reason she had had five children in six years was
because “My husband, like all men, is sex mad.” Since then, throughout my teens, I’d feared the sexual urge was similar to the opening of Pandora’s box. It was easier for a
virgin to be chaste but once tasted, sexual desire would be more difficult for either gender to control. “Good for you, Nat. I think I may be addicted to sleeping pills. I’ve been
taking one every night for almost eighteen years. It doesn’t always manage to conk me out, but I haven’t been able to give them up.” I fell silent, taken aback at my own
admission, then turned to look at his face for a reaction.
“Balancing your chakras is important for handling addictions. You can meditate better once your chakras are open.” His tone was soft, the expression on his face kind.
“How does that work?”
“I can show you how, if you’d like to sit with me in the meditation room next door.”
Glancing at my watch, I asked “How long will it take?”
“Oh, just fifteen minutes.” He walked across the landing towards a door on the left and opened it, gesturing for me to enter. It was an unfurnished room, oak floor covered with two
large intarsia patterned rugs and a scattering of large square cushions in shades of orange and green. Unlit candles were placed at intervals in front of the skirting board. Nat walked over to a
docking system and turned on some relaxing music. Next I joined him in sitting down as he demonstrated the correct posture for sitting in half lotus with the help of a tiny cushion called a
zafu
. I copied his posture, sitting with my spine straight.
“Now, relax your shoulders. Inhale slowly and deeply. Visualise a white light coming through your crown chakra. Relax and exhale.”
After a few breaths I could feel myself melting into an easy peaceful bliss. Then Nat spoke softly. “Kate, your heart chakra is very blocked. May I adjust it for you? Just nod if you
agree.” I nodded. Then I felt Nat’s firm hand resting flat on my upper back while his other hand seemed to make a small clockwise motion between my breasts. I told myself not to react
even though my personal space was now being invaded and I could feel and smell Nat’s warm minted breath on my face. I’d read about healers and gurus adjusting people’s chakras,
especially the heart chakra which is supposedly concerned with allowing in the emotions of love, forgiveness and compassion. Then a flush of heat swept over me and I gasped in horror. Nat had begun
massaging my left breast in a manner more octopus than spiritual. Opening my mouth to protest, I was suddenly silenced by Nat’s mouth on top of mine as he tried thrusting his tongue between
my teeth. I bit hard. He gasped. Shoving him away, I jumped up. “Some reformed sex addict you are!”
“I’m sorry, Kate. I truly am. Please forgive me.”
“Save your wretched apologies. They’re wasted on me.” I ran out of the room and down the stairs. I stormed into the open-plan living area where Ella and Adolfo were deep in
discussion, examining packets of coffee spread out on the table in front of them. “C’mon Ella! I need to get out of here as fast as possible.”
“What happened?” Adolfo took in my shocked expression, then clapped his two hands over his head in exasperation. “Don’t tell me Nat lost control. Oh my dear Kate, I have
to tell you he has been so good for so long but this new girlfriend is driving him crazy. Celibacy has never been more difficult for him. Let me call you a taxi.”
“It had better come quickly,” I said breathlessly.
“Five minutes, ladies! You have to understand that celibacy is much more difficult for a man. I too practice. But Nat has a girlfriend he loves yet she keeps him waiting. FBS is a terrible
affliction!”
“Irritable Bowel Syndrome?” asked Ella, confused.
“FBS! Full Balls Syndrome. It drives a man wild. We feel better with EBS; Empty Balls Syndrome. Nat is so desperate from waiting, he would nearly ride a sheep!”
“Great, that’s really great!” I stormed. “I’m practically assaulted and now you tell me he’s so desperate I could have been a sheep. That’s just
lovely.”
Adolfo looked pleadingly at Ella. “I’m sorry I said the wrong thing to your friend … sometimes things get lost in translation. Really, Nat is not a bad guy and he will beat up
on himself so much for this. We are all here for healing. Nat is here to cure his sex addiction.”
Nat was creeping down the stairs, shoulders hunched, his hands together in a pleading manner. I wasn’t going to hang around to absolve him for his wrong doings. “Ella, I’m
waiting outside. I don’t want to hear anymore.”
Ella kissed Adolfo on the cheek and they muttered something about meeting again to discuss importing coffee. I hardly heard, I was already on my way to the front door. After waiting a few
minutes in the chilly night air, the taxi arrived, bringing us back to our accommodation. “Are you really mad with me?” Ella inquired sheepishly after we’d sat into the taxi.
“No I’m not, Ella. Funny thing is, I find myself believing Adolfo, despite the bull – or the sheep, for that matter. I don’t think Nat’s a bad guy and he probably
is trying hard to battle an addiction. On the other hand, he could be a pure chancer.” I laughed. “But now I’m more damaged than ever. Apparently I’m as sexy as any old
sheep. I mean seriously how do I recover from that bitter blow to my ego?”
“A
re you all right, Ella? I’m off for my final crystal bed session.”
Ella had endured a bad bout of vomiting after absentmindedly downing a miniature bottle of gin she’d found in her suitcase two days after she began taking herbs. The retching went on so
long, I worried her oesophagus would turn inside out. Being a hypochondriac ex-doctor’s wife had its advantages at times – I permanently carried a portable pharmacy with me. I had
motillium to quell the nausea and buscopan to stop the spasm in her gut. Soon I had her back on her feet but I thought she still looked a little shook. “Perfect. I’m going for a
massage.” A smirk formed at the edge of her mouth. “How are you after your invisible operation?”
I shrugged, “I didn’t feel or notice anything – we had to keep our eyes closed. I wasn’t even sure when the Healer came in to say prayers over us, since a couple of
attendants were already praying in Portuguese before he arrived. And I haven’t felt any different since.”
“Do you think it is for real? And what about the crystal bed thing … I found it a bit disappointing. Thought I’d be stretched out on a giant slab of crystal instead of lying
on an ordinary therapy bed with a row of crystals glaring down on top of me. Now how could that possibly do you any good, Kate? I mean this thing about crystals having power?” Ella gathered
up her purse and phone from her bed, slipping them into her bag.
“I used to think so too, Ella, but I’ve researched it on-line and discovered that all rocks have vibrations. You know how we’ve such problems with limestone in Ireland in the
foundation of houses and the radon gases emitted from it?”
“Mm… I remember when I got that last x-ray for my back, I told the radiologist I hated the idea of radiation. She assured me that sitting on a stone wall in some areas of County
Clare would do more harm. So tell me what’s so good about these crystals.”
“Do you remember the watches we had as kids? In those days the status of your watch wasn’t determined by which designer brand it was. We all checked to see how many jewels they
contained and you’d find the number written in tiny letters on the face. Well apparently those little jewels or crystals helped to power the mechanism. Same thing with radios.”
“You’re right! I remember gran called the radio a ‘crystal set’. Is that the reason?”
“Yes, and the crystals on the arm above the so-called crystal bed are designed by the famous IBM scientist Marcel Vogel, who designed the coating for IBM’s hard disk drive. His
research proved that all quartz crystals, cut to a set of exact specifications, produce a specific laser-like energy. He did experiments proving crystals were both filled with energy and could act
as conduits of energy which is why they are used in watches, radios and modern medical devices.”
“God, Kate you sound like Spock. So, what about the chakra thing?”
“I read about that in Maria’s book. Apparently the light beams from the seven crystals down on your seven chakras or energy centres. They supposedly help balance our bodies. The word
chakra
means ‘wheel of light’. Each of the chakras corresponds to seven different areas of the body which affect the health of the organs in that band.” As I spoke I
touched my throat, heart and stomach as an example of some of the areas I could remember. “Emotions are stored in each centre, which may block the flow of energy and cause disease. So
theoretically … working on balancing your chakras will help release emotions, get your energy flowing and aid the body’s ability to fight disease.”
Ella rubbed her tummy with one hand and touched her back with the other. “So I have a lower back problem and digestive upsets happening in the same area. What does that mean?”
“It means your creative and sexual chakra need clearing,” I winked.
“Ha … So the answer is to find a man and get my new career up and running.”
I headed out the door laughing.
Having walked to the long low building in front of the ashram gardens, I was met by an attendant who led me into one of the small dark rooms where relaxation music played. I took off my shoes
and she handed me an eye mask to wear over my eyes. “Lie down on the therapy bed and make yourself comfortable.” She placed a light cotton blanket over me and aligned each crystal over
the relevant areas of my body before switching on the lights overhead. In the background, music played, similar to the soothing
bajans
played in the ashram. I lay there breathing deeply,
anticipating once more being swept away by a peaceful bliss. Instead images arose in my mind, beyond my control.
I suddenly found myself transported back eighteen years to the most awful morning of my life. My stomach knotted and twisted as pain pierced my chest to the point I couldn’t breathe. Beads
of sweat formed on my brow and my back felt as though I was lying on a bed of hot coals. My chest constricted, I panted in an effort to breathe but the dull ache I’d lived with every day
started to become so acute I felt I’d been stabbed. “No!” I stifled my cry, a creature-like shriek of torment that came from somewhere deep … outside and inside me, both at
the same time. My arms wrapped around my body, I dug my nails deep into my bare arms. I felt bound, straight-jacketed by my own embrace, yet I wanted to run or at the very least tear tormented
flesh from my bones – inflict physical pain in order not to feel the real pain.
“Why?”
My voice echoed in a plaintive cry from the bowels of some unearthly place. Thoughts
tumbled inside my head – why had my baby David been taken from me? Did God want to punish me for some cruel reason? I’d been tormented by it every single day of my life. Rarely a day
had passed when I hadn’t thought of David and what he would be doing. Learning to swim or ride a bicycle, swotting for exams, getting ready to join Julie in college. David in love for the
first time.
I thought I’d learnt to live with the grief and be philosophical, grateful that at least I had Julie. But now the entire episode was being replayed again. It started with the joy of
holding my beautiful baby son, so perfect in every way. God … I’d sell my soul to step back in time to smell David’s baby smell, to touch his soft skin and hold him close. I knew
I’d die aching for one last moment with him – begging for a single moment. Why were the feelings so raw now – as raw as though it had just happened yesterday? If there was a God,
how could he be so cruel – so vindictive?
All of a sudden I let go, exhausted from my own intensity, no longer able to fight tgo of the fearhe torrent. Sharp aches cracked through my chest, my abdomen and my head, and just as it seemed
it would finally break me, an image arose of me as a warrior breaking the rock of pain with a sledge hammer. Sighing, surrendering to deep breaths as though I were being breathed into by a bellows
operated by a winged angel. Tears flowing … now tears of love, intense love, radiant as the Healer’s that day in the Casa. David’s essence emerging, all around me as I sink into
an awareness of having been blessed to borrow him from heaven – for he was never Earth’s nor mine to own.