God's Callgirl (59 page)

Occasionally I have contact with some of my former clients. One came to spend three days with me and had the best holiday of his life, he said, because he was so peaceful in my little house. He shared my bed and behaved himself perfectly, although he admitted to taking a sleeping pill to make sure. It felt good to receive his friendship without
expectations. Ex-clients phone me now and again, some send a card on Valentine’s Day, and recently, on a shopping trip to Perth, one stopped me to ask if I was still available. I was pleased to be remembered and explained that I am now a grandmother, which didn’t even make him blink. Not so long ago I received an offer from a would-be lover, to be well taken care of if I’d ‘go with him’, as he put it. He was youngish and very lonely, but I couldn’t summon a scrap of interest in making him feel better. I have nothing left of my previous high illusions.

I agree with Deepak Chopra that ‘only intimacy with the Self will bring about true healing’. I have compassion for myself now, which means that I am free to feel whatever comes up to be felt, to learn greater self-acceptance and be ever freer.

Isaac Shapiro’s words, ‘Be with yourself’, take on a new meaning daily. As I told him when I met him again, ‘being with myself’ is the source of my dignity, my peace, my sense of humour about myself and all of life. Other people who have not doubted themselves might take this for granted, but for me it was a tremendous gift.

I COULD HAVE
saved myself a lot of pain if I’d known before I started on my adult life journey what would work and what wouldn’t. I might not have felt the need to become a nun, only to leave after my twenties were gone. I might not have become a prostitute and experienced the bitterness of loveless sex and the self-betrayal in subterfuge. I might have found my way home straightaway and not played the game of emotional snakes and ladders. But who can live beyond their evolution? And what would have happened to this story?

Life gave me exactly what I needed, all of the time. I am so lucky to have heard the call to wake up to my true self. What a
blessed
life! My misunderstandings were just that: I fell for a lie. And I thought I was dealing with the devil! Oh well, don’t we all make mistakes?

When I started off on my fantasy of the Chinese nun, I was following the call of my soul. When I listened to that urgent message from my inner spirit to go south (and find Denmark) and was so careful to move only when it felt right, I was following that call. What else is that but doing God’s will? I always followed the call of God
as best I could
. Fear prevented me from doing it better, until it didn’t. Now I am simply God’s girl. For ever.

Postscript to my Father

I so adored you as a child,

And you so ignored me,

Then abused me,

And yet made for me a host of marvellous toys

And taught me how to fly kites,

How things grow,

And how beautiful is a spider web in the dewy morning sunlight.

You hit me hard when I irritated you;

I was such an impractical child,

And very, very wilful.

To hide your ugly side, your wickedness,

You throttled me into silence

Preferring a terrified, confused, bewildered child

To one who might talk about your own terrible actions.

Cancer took away your strength

And much of your arrogance.

You even apologised,

Though not to me directly,

In those days when life ebbed away so fast.

And then you died.

They came to take away your body;

Hands limp beside you.

If I had insulted you,

Those hands could no longer hit me or anyone.

Mouth gaping to the sky, pathetic,

No longer able to say,

‘Sorry, Carla.’

Instead, it had said ‘I love you’,

With heart overflowing into burning eyes.

And now you are with God,

A God who does not judge;

Now you understand.

Now I understand.

You did the best you could,

And you loved.

You loved,

You abused,

You hated,

You hit,

You were engulfed by guilt.

You never outgrew your childhood griefs,

You worked hard,

You judged, defended, and finally became sick.

You are dead now,

And it is all right.

All right that you loved the best way you knew how,

And that it fell short of my expectations.

It’s all right.

You are my special angel now.

I thank you, Beloved Dad.

Photographic Insert

My father and mother on their wedding day;Tilburg, Holland, 1937.

Look out, world, here I come!

My sister Ankie and me with customary butterfly bows.

Some classmates at Vaucluse Ladies College. I am fourth from left in the back row, with my arm around Maria.

Dressed up as the dapper duke in
Les Cloches de Corneville.

The last dance I attended before entering the convent, aged eighteen.

Two days into postulancy.

Holy picture marking the occasion of taking vows for the first time, containing the image of the foundress of the sisters, Faithful Companions of Jesus, Madame de Bonnault de Hoüet.