As a young girl, I spent a great deal of time with my
grandfather. My mother was a single working mother attempting to
finish her Masters at American University. When I wasn't in a private
boarding house during mother's working hours, I was often with my
grandfather, Dr. Carl C. Taylor. "Dr. Taylor" was a remarkable man. To
this day I miss him and often long for a heart-to-heart chat
with someone as wise and loving as he. He is one of my reference
points in this life for being truly, unconditionally loved.
As a very small girl, we would "discourse" about the world around us,
even the universe. He was a Doctor of Sociology, and a professor who
developed the field of Rural Sociology. This is the study of the farmer,
of rural America, as well as other rural cultures around the world. He
worked in a top position at the Department of Agriculture. My mother
worked for him. My grandfather and mother were very close. Although he was
not her father, she regarded him as her intellectual mentor and friend.
So did I.
Having been a farmer himself, my grandfather probably saw in me fertile
soil in which to prepare healthy growth. He recognized my curiosity in
everything. He was interested that I appeared to be philosophical and
introspective at a very young age. I was not very "at home" in the
appearances of things. I wanted to be told the truth. Grandpa helped me
strengthen my internal life by giving me books to read that stretched me
way beyond my school reading. He made it an attractive pursuit, because I
couldn't wait to sit down with him after I had finished the book. He
allowed me time to form new thoughts and ideas, under the gentle guidance
of his Socratic questioning. He never told me what to think. He would
simply question me, and then listen to me with the greatest of interest. Through him, my early influences were Gandhi, Roosevelt, Dag Hammarskjöld,
Einstein, Jesus, Emerson, Thoreau and Adlai Stevenson. These were unusual
childhood "idols". I absorbed Grandpa's humanitarianism. He made me very
aware of the interconnectedness in life. He was my best friend.
When I was eleven, he went to India for a year to help head the Ford
Foundation. I missed him terribly. Life in school was dull without him. When he returned, he immediately gave me
The Autobiography of a Yogi, and
asked me to read it. This book was like a bomb to my young mind. It opened
me to things that I somehow sensed to be true of a spiritual and mystical
nature. This book, and others , and the many ongoing talks with my
grandfather, set the stage for my continued curiosity about life.
From the ages of 17 to 23, my focus was very intensely on my career. When the marriage to Ryan O'Neal ended, it provided me with enough "shock"
to begin to examine everything in my life. My circumstances at that
moment satisfied what we are told is "important" to achieve in a
lifetime. I was famous, beautiful, financially secure and had a beautiful
baby son. Opportunities for work and success were abundant. I was 23.
I was unfulfilled.
It proved to be a "divine malaise" that only food of a spiritual nature
seemed to comfort. By late 1969, I was in the throes of seeking and
questioning. It was not a comfortable state. I gave up a lot to follow
this inner urge, but to me, there was no choice. I entered the Seventies
very open and ready for the wonderful "guides" who soon entered my life in
quite extraordinary ways.