Memorial for Beloved Laura Archera Huxley

Laura Huxley; 1911-2007; beloved friend; violinist; therapist; author; founder of Children: Our Ultimate Investment

For beloved Laura and Friends

There are so many feelings that can't be expressed. Perhaps the most important ones must go unsaid. It seems that putting words to the soul's tremors can destroy their delicacy.  When a beloved is dying, how intimate is our heart's embrace.  In the midst of these raw tides, we can cherish the poignancy of every moment.

We are all "dying" and being conscious of this sobering truth gives the moment its rightful wings. The passion of intimacy that we can share with another, in crisis and otherwise, seeds our beings and changes us forever beyond what we can imagine.  A mysterious exchange of gifts flows between the caregiver and the recipient, as they become one.

The roles we play are interesting to examine.  Often it is possible to see the karma or seeds of being a caregiver early on in one's life. To quote Mephistopheles: "In the end we all create the creatures we ourselves depend on," which is a thought-provoking statement. Certainly the shadows we cast are ourselves reflected, as are the rainbows.

As always, Laura made the impossible possible.  I say this because the nobility and courage she lived in her dying gave me an undying strength that will live on within me as a blazing torch. I am ever fortunate to have been inspired by the muse of Laura, and to share her beams of light with you.   

October 2007

I found my soul

In the grace of
a dying garden,
I found my soul. 

In the crisp, golden leaves,
in the broken tile,
under the arches of a dead history,
my soul appeared - naked amidst
the crumbling tower of yesterday. 

In the shady nooks,
the secrets lie with blue lips
waiting to be revivified
by a red generation. 

I swim in the old pool
with new water and
the light of the future
beams through  
the boughs of ancient oak. 

Old and new fuse
in my bloodstreams,
in the primal waters. 

(Inspired by my swim at Laura Huxley’Äôs in the Hollywood Hills)
July 31, 2007

Letters from friends of Laura Huxley

Los Angeles CA, January 31st 2008
Carolyn read prose and poetry at Laura Huxley's memorial.

Laura Huxley Dies of Cancer at Age of 96

Author and Therapist Laura Huxley died of cancer at the age of 96 December 13th. She is best known for her memoir, This Timeless Moment, about Aldous's final struggles with cancer, and how she assisted him during his dying process by administering LSD at his request. In addition to authoring five books, Laura was also a concert violinist, a filmmaker, a psychoterapist, and the founder of a charity - Children: Our Ultimate Investment. Laura lectured on the human potential movement, and was, in her words, "a restrained investigator of LSD." When I interviewed Laura, and asked her what kind of advice she would give to young people, she replied, "I would tell them: Respect your body. Focus your mind. Love your heart. Support and cooperate with anyone who wants to do the same." Laura's work was a big inspiration to many of us in the community and we will miss her wise, noble, and graceful spirit. We wish her a peaceful journey.

David Brown

Inevitable Grace

In a hotel room I lay dead flat on the bed, having just returned from my beloved friend's memorial. Then, mysteriously and invisibly, my friend guided me to the glass table where the book "Inevitable Grace," awaited me. This book, which held the light, was the same one that had called to me from her bookshelves while she was dying. She found a way to get that book into my hands when I was lying dead flat on the bed and had forgotten everything I once knew.

Like a beacon of will's light, she had exposed my despair to her stream of beams, which had not waned even in death, and which led me to the book that now revealed its inexhaustible wisdom.

O eternal flower
(for beloved Laura Huxley)

O eternal flower, how fragrant your scent,
and how far-reaching your stem.

Although you've come and gone,
you're still here, nevertheless.

Somehow, concepts of life and death
are too limited
for your present formlessness.

No, it's not real to me
that you've died.

It's no more real than
life's other illusions.

My truth is, O eternal flower,
that you still exist - outside of time
like a scent that forever lingers.

How infinite your spirit,
as it travels the universe
and mocks the smallness
we dote upon.

O eternal flower,
how fragrant your scent,
and how far-reaching your stem.

No, it's not real to me
that you've died.

It's no more real than
life's other illusions.

Feb 10, 2008