Elspeth Duncan
In a January 16 Newsday article entitled Rowley bids media farewell: Please don’t forget me, Dr Keith Rowley recounts how, on visiting his Goodwood Park home, a book he won as a boy in a public speaking contest in Tobago fell off the shelf.
Unfortunately, the article did not state the book’s title, but I wondered about it and whether it was significant, symbolically or otherwise, to events unfolding in his current life.
The PM’s “book off the shelf” incident jogged my mind back to a time (somewhere around 1999) when my life was on the verge of changing significantly in various areas (occupation, abode, etc). At that time, there was a metaphysical bookshop called A Different View in Woodbrook, run by another Elspeth (Elspeth Brierley – rest in peace).
I worked nearby at the Lonsdale/Saatchi & Saatchi advertising agency, and sometimes at lunch or after work I visited the store, if not to buy an item, to chat with my namesake. Our conversations were always interesting, enlightening and uplifting, about spiritual and metaphysical matters or, simply, life.
One day I felt “lost” and in need of guidance/direction – no doubt because of the time of flux. While I was perusing A Different View’s second-hand books, one flew off the shelf and landed directly at my feet, as though deliberately thrown there. I was surprised, as nothing had precipitated this leap. There had been no earthquake, and the book had not been leaning out of the line of books. Furthermore, it was a very slim book, 69 pages long, with an old yellow paper cover. One would think a heavier book was more likely to have fallen.
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Because of how this happened, even before picking it up and looking at its title or contents, I knew I should purchase it.
Light on Your Problems, the title said in dark-blue lettering on the antiquated-looking paper cover. A small blue cross with an image of a square of light emanating from it was a few inches below the headline. I can state all of this clearly not because of a great memory, but because the book is in front of me now as I write. Over the years, at one point I thought I had lost it (in moving to Tobago), but one day it reappeared, as surprisingly as the day it had leapt out for me.
As I opened the book that day, a small piece of lined paper with beautiful handwriting fell out. The note began: ‘“I’ve gone into meditation seriously,’ she said slowly. ‘That is a finding of yourself. God. Or whatever you want to call it.”
“She credits yoga, which she started a year and a half ago, with effecting much of the change in the way she feels and looks.
‘“I just wish I’d started ten years ago…’”
The short, handwritten note went on to mention some benefits of yoga and ended: “Ten minutes and you’ve had the equivalent of an hour’s nap.” (It was signed by Carol Burnett).
Perhaps a seed was planted.
About a year later, two friends invited me to a Kundalini yoga class. There I had an internal experience, sufficiently significant to compel me to practise daily, starting the day after the class. I have now been teaching this form of yoga for over 20 years.
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Back to the book… As I read the foreword (which began: “In this great school of experience, we encounter many problems and have many lessons to learn”), the quote at the end struck me: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a Light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105). I had found this significant – the book unto my feet was the lamp unto my feet.
Indeed, simply reading that book shed light on my state, inspired me and guided me forward, as though the words were written specifically for me. I think it reached and changed me on a deep level.
I will end this article by opening the book and writing the words that my eyes fall on – perhaps words meant for someone reading now.
“So have courage. Have faith and walk fearlessly in the Light, for you never walk alone.
“‘Even there shall Thy hand lead me and Thy right hand shall hold me.’ (Psalm 139:10)”
I would love to know the title of the book that fell for the PM.
This post was originally published on here
