Airdre – Part Four
“There are times when you are given, I call it a red thread. She gave me this thread and I grasped it. Within two months I was on my way to Iona which is not easy to get to. I caught a plane to London, somehow I ended up in Manchester station, caught a train to Glasgow, another two trains, a ferry to Craigmuir, a bus and then a boat to Iona. You have to want to go there. I asked all sorts of people to go with me. No-one would go, I had to do it alone and I did it.
I was looking for somewhere to stay and I found there was an island called Erriad which is next to Iona and also an anagram of my name so I considered that a clue. Erraid is an offshoot of the Findhorn Community in Scotland which is the spiritual community. There is 6 lighthouse keepers houses there. Somehow I stumbled on Erraid, emailed and asked if I could stay and they said ‘Of course’. It was magic all the way. It was remote and incredibly beautiful and I went to Iona and lit candles for my brother. I wasn’t lonely and there were moments of joy. I was on the ferry and went to buy a packet of mints. I said ‘These are very strong’ and he said ’Aye you be needing your wits about if you’re gonna be eating these.’
On the way back from Iona I stayed in a place called SamyLing which is a Buddhist Monastery on the Scottish borders. It was cold and I had my hot water bottle. I went to a Tibetan cafe which was manned by these Scottish Buddhists with shaved heads who sort of looked like holy hooligans and I asked one if he could fill my hot water bottle. He said ‘Aye! But I draw the line at a bedtime story.’ Every so often I just laughed so the story of sorrow was streaked with light.
I went to India on the way back and I ended up in a cave with a guy who looked exactly like my brother. When I looked again he was gone. The pilgrimage was important and was a really good thing to do. You just have to step off sometimes because the burden gets too heavy. I wasn’t managing but I was nudged by angel intervention from time to time and I listened. As I’m getting older I’m more convinced with the value of intuition and how important it is to listen to it.
In amongst all of this there’s a whole lot more to my story but it would take too long. In short I lived for a while in Anjuna, Goa in India. I got a life threatening illness, did an alternative cancer cure (Gerson). I studied Macrobiotics in Boston and worked as a medicinal cook in the States. I flew all over cooking for people with cancer and other serious illnesses.
I then wrote a book about the journey called Stumbling Stones. How the book came about is another thing. When Angus died I wrote a little piece which was published in the Sydney Morning Herald and unbeknownst to me it was published in The Age as well. I then forgot about it completely. I went on the pilgrimage and when I returned I got a phone call from a woman saying ‘Are you Airdre Grant? I’m a Publisher from Melbourne, I read your piece about grief and it was so wonderful that I have photocopied it and given it to my friends. Will you write a book about it?’ I was then invited to write the book and I did. The book was really well received and has travelled to the strangest places. I get emails from people in Birmingham saying I’ve read your book and it’s wonderful. Magic all the way.
I’m writing another book. I was going to write about melancholy and suffering (laughs) but it will be about friendship. Friendship is at the heart of everything we do as humans and comes in a thousand different forms. We kind of flourish and suffer and thrive and get hurt. I want to write about that because we all go through it.
I write a column as well for The Echo and all I do is I write what I see around the joint. It’s almost always about Lismore. I’ve been doing it for a year and a half now and it’s really popular. I love to write about the joys of living in our little town because we often get the pip with city or coastal people grandstanding over us.
I go to New Zealand often. I miss my country, I pine for it sometimes and I’ll go again this year. It’s my Turangawaewae which is your keeping place. Where you are born is your Turangawaewae but in saying that I have been here a long time.
I find Lismore to be this valiant place. There’s something really good about Lismore. I keep saying it in my columns but I like that its ordinary, I like that its lowbrow. I like that it’s not highfalutin. I love that it is so tolerant. You see the quirkiest people around Lismore. It’s a very accepting community and it’s not up itself. I think we are a bit up ourselves with our recycling and environmental issues because we are so good at it. We are proud of that. I feel able to be myself here and I feel a real sense of belonging here. I went back to Sydney and I visited a friend who has lived in Avalon and Palm Beach for a long time. I lived there for a while and I like it but I thought I don’t belong here. I couldn’t get with it. I wanted to come back to little old lowbrow Lismore where people can be themselves, pitch in, turn up, work at the duck pond, go on a march, see some stuff down at the Quad, wander down to the theatre.
And here I am with two lovely daughters, Rosie who is having a baby in the end of this month, my first grandchild and Hanne who is a hula-hooping, burlesque, dancing girl.”
Airdre’s book – Stumbling Stones is available at The Book Warehouse..Keen St, Lismore.
“There are times when you are given, I call it a red thread. She gave me this thread and I grasped it. Within two months I was on my way to Iona which is not easy to get to. I caught a plane to London, somehow I ended up in Manchester station, caught a train to Glasgow, another two trains, a ferry to Craigmuir, a bus and then a boat to Iona. You have to want to go there. I asked all sorts of people to go with me. No-one would go, I had to do it alone and I did it.
I was looking for somewhere to stay and I found there was an island called Erriad which is next to Iona and also an anagram of my name so I considered that a clue. Erraid is an offshoot of the Findhorn Community in Scotland which is the spiritual community. There is 6 lighthouse keepers houses there. Somehow I stumbled on Erraid, emailed and asked if I could stay and they said ‘Of course’. It was magic all the way. It was remote and incredibly beautiful and I went to Iona and lit candles for my brother. I wasn’t lonely and there were moments of joy. I was on the ferry and went to buy a packet of mints. I said ‘These are very strong’ and he said ’Aye you be needing your wits about if you’re gonna be eating these.’
On the way back from Iona I stayed in a place called SamyLing which is a Buddhist Monastery on the Scottish borders. It was cold and I had my hot water bottle. I went to a Tibetan cafe which was manned by these Scottish Buddhists with shaved heads who sort of looked like holy hooligans and I asked one if he could fill my hot water bottle. He said ‘Aye! But I draw the line at a bedtime story.’ Every so often I just laughed so the story of sorrow was streaked with light.
I went to India on the way back and I ended up in a cave with a guy who looked exactly like my brother. When I looked again he was gone. The pilgrimage was important and was a really good thing to do. You just have to step off sometimes because the burden gets too heavy. I wasn’t managing but I was nudged by angel intervention from time to time and I listened. As I’m getting older I’m more convinced with the value of intuition and how important it is to listen to it.
In amongst all of this there’s a whole lot more to my story but it would take too long. In short I lived for a while in Anjuna, Goa in India. I got a life threatening illness, did an alternative cancer cure (Gerson). I studied Macrobiotics in Boston and worked as a medicinal cook in the States. I flew all over cooking for people with cancer and other serious illnesses.
I then wrote a book about the journey called Stumbling Stones. How the book came about is another thing. When Angus died I wrote a little piece which was published in the Sydney Morning Herald and unbeknownst to me it was published in The Age as well. I then forgot about it completely. I went on the pilgrimage and when I returned I got a phone call from a woman saying ‘Are you Airdre Grant? I’m a Publisher from Melbourne, I read your piece about grief and it was so wonderful that I have photocopied it and given it to my friends. Will you write a book about it?’ I was then invited to write the book and I did. The book was really well received and has travelled to the strangest places. I get emails from people in Birmingham saying I’ve read your book and it’s wonderful. Magic all the way.
I’m writing another book. I was going to write about melancholy and suffering (laughs) but it will be about friendship. Friendship is at the heart of everything we do as humans and comes in a thousand different forms. We kind of flourish and suffer and thrive and get hurt. I want to write about that because we all go through it.
I write a column as well for The Echo and all I do is I write what I see around the joint. It’s almost always about Lismore. I’ve been doing it for a year and a half now and it’s really popular. I love to write about the joys of living in our little town because we often get the pip with city or coastal people grandstanding over us.
I go to New Zealand often. I miss my country, I pine for it sometimes and I’ll go again this year. It’s my Turangawaewae which is your keeping place. Where you are born is your Turangawaewae but in saying that I have been here a long time.
I find Lismore to be this valiant place. There’s something really good about Lismore. I keep saying it in my columns but I like that its ordinary, I like that its lowbrow. I like that it’s not highfalutin. I love that it is so tolerant. You see the quirkiest people around Lismore. It’s a very accepting community and it’s not up itself. I think we are a bit up ourselves with our recycling and environmental issues because we are so good at it. We are proud of that. I feel able to be myself here and I feel a real sense of belonging here. I went back to Sydney and I visited a friend who has lived in Avalon and Palm Beach for a long time. I lived there for a while and I like it but I thought I don’t belong here. I couldn’t get with it. I wanted to come back to little old lowbrow Lismore where people can be themselves, pitch in, turn up, work at the duck pond, go on a march, see some stuff down at the Quad, wander down to the theatre.
And here I am with two lovely daughters, Rosie who is having a baby in the end of this month, my first grandchild and Hanne who is a hula-hooping, burlesque, dancing girl.”
Airdre’s book – Stumbling Stones is available at The Book Warehouse..Keen St, Lismore.