being different

                        

myself: Donene, eldest child: Taynith, Nanna: Vera Inch, Granddad: Lawrence Inch, Dad: Don Inch

being different in my early years

Growing up, I was always The Little Brown Girl, wherever I went. I looked different. I felt different. And guess what? I was often treated differently by people outside of my family and my parents circle. And not usually in a good way.

But when I went to live with Nanna, all of this changed. Although I looked different, I never, ever, was treated as such. Not by my new friends, nor the neighbours. And of course, not by my new family. I was just accepted as I was. This gave me tremendous confidence. I felt alive. I didn't feel as though I had to hide in the background anymore. I finally felt as though I was just fine just the way that I was.

And, I learnt at my new home, that being different was okay. Mainly by my grandfather's example.  Granddad was quite a different sort of person. He did not conform to society's norms.

my beloved grandfather

He was quite a brilliant man.

Granddad was a Barrister, so he was often in the Law Courts, representing his clients. Decades after living with my grandparents, I was teaching yoga to two older lawyers. I was given some strong mana just by virtue of being Lawrence Inch's grand-daughter. It seemed as though Granddad was quite revered by these lawyers, who were more than forty years younger than he.

Mana is a type of "power", or "prestige" that we carry. It can be earned, carried over through the family line (such as me being Lawrence Inch's granddaughter), or earned. Mana is an honorable energy.

Granddad was a softie. He often took on cases where there really wasn't payment involved. Which of course, impacted our family finances. But, you know, in my own young and impressionable way, I realised that income wasn't all about money. Sometimes it involved work done for other reasons. I could see that Granddad felt good about being that person, and this affected me quite strongly. So, as a healer, I have always made space in my life to work on those who are in need of healing, and who don't have money. I am quite discriminating about it, but it is a creed that I have always lived by: giving back. And it was my grandfather's quiet influence which generated this.

When Granddad retired, he was asked to "put together" an Accident Compensation Corporation (ACC). It was to be a very different system, innovative. At that time, New Zealand was still a strong socialist country. ACC is a no-fault accidental injury scheme, providing financial support for accidents. So, all businesses pay into it, including sole traders, exercise teachers, gardeners, and so forth. It has become a massive "entity" in this country, and without it, gosh, I don't even want to imagine that.

I asked Granddad how he became a lawyer, which was in the last days of parchment and copperplate (his words)  He said that he worked as a law clerk by day, and studied at night to become a lawyer. When I naively remarked "that must have been hard too do", he just smiled at me and replied:

"you can do anything if you put your mind to it"

I took this on board as another Life Creed. I have done many things in my life, without much money.  And certainly very little encouragement. Quite the opposite really. And I just put my mind to something, and keep it on what I'm doing. 

Thank-you, Granddad.

different, but in a cultured way

Both of my grandparents were passionate golfers. Here I failed most miserably as a granddaughter, For, I would often hear them chatting excitedly to each other about "birdies" and "bogeys", and I simply could not understand what they were talking about. Nor why it made them so excited. I still don't. 

Granddad often wore plus fours ( an old fashioned type of English golfing trousers) and a cloth peaked cap with his knitted vest, shirt and tweed jacket. I can definitely tell you that no-one else dressed like that. I used to wonder if he sometimes wore those to go to "The Club", but on adult reflection, it would have been straight from the golf course.  Sometimes he would arrive home late for dinner, and grinning broadly. (drinkies!) In an era where people, especially men, drank to excess, I never once saw Granddad over imbibing.

He would take Margaret to a pantomime each year, and when I was twelve, of course, I got to go too. I loved it! Even if Granddad listened to the races with his earphones on throughout. Yep, no-one else did that either. It was such an exciting night for me. Someone whom I knew from school was the lead actress. She was only eleven. I was so impressionable. I was like: oh, so

people can do extra things with their time. Things that they love doing 

I hadn't known that. I took this on board, too.

alternative food tendencies

Granddad got up early every morning and had a cold bath. Then if it was fine, he would sit outside on the verandah that he had made, and eat the same breakfast before work. On his tray were always tea, molasses, butter, toast, a spread, and Epsom salts. It never varied. He had a healthfood raw food book which I eagerly devoured. Remember, I was this little girl who hadn't gotten to do much, who loved to read, and had entered A New Life. When my second child was born, and had allergies, I remembered Granddad's alternative ways, and became a Health Food enthusiast. I'm sure that it saved my baby's life.

Granddad was a poet

During The Great Depression, Granddad travelled around, earning money as a journalist. Which became his livelihood for twenty years. Then he returned to law. He wrote beautiful poetry. His children arranged to have some of his poems made into a book:

My Scrip Of Joy: Lawrence Inch

Inside the cover, he says:

his cry is for spontaneity and sincerity, simplicity and clear expression

Life is for living. Seeming is not being

The poems are those of a deeply spiritual man, and some are  about his beloved Taranaki, where he grew up. Granddad was not religious at all, but spiritual. When I was living in an Ashram, bald head, orange robes, following a lifelong spiritual quest. I went to see him and asked: Granddad why do you write about higher consciousness? He was so happy that I had noticed that and that I wanted to know the story behind it. He replied that he had drowned in a rock pool at the seaside when he was but five, and during this, he had experienced infinity. (At five!)

This, and growing up with a gentle mother who later became a Christian Scientist, and a father who was immersed in Maoritanga, made for a different kind of person. 

Plus the brilliance. I feel that it probably came from his father, and has appeared in many of the family:

quirkiness, and/or brilliance. We have a poet, an amazing artist, brilliance at maths, brilliant astrologer, he has a great, great grandchild who is almost a genius at languages (passed down through the DNA from Granddad's father), and these are only the ones that I know of. There is also a strange type of nerdism, which is quite prevalent. I have this myself, and spirituality is the path that I followed with it. I do feel that this tendency was from Granddad.

Thank you Granddad. Tears in my eyes and heart as I write all of this. Forever grateful.