Carnival of Light || Paul McCartney/Beatles

13. The Avocado Scene

Carnival of Light (Part 2)

13.

May 1967

It was turning out to be a gloriously warm and sunny May that seemed to promise an even warmer and glorious summer was on the way.

I had my face turned up to the sun, heating my cheeks and creating red and pink streaks behind my eyelids. The grass at Kinfauns was lush and green and cool against my shins and the tops of my feet. I tried to focus on that sensation instead of how intensely my thighs and stomach were burning as I arched my back to touch my fingertips to my ankles, attempting to hold a pose Swami Vishnudevananda's Illustrated Book of Yoga called Ustrasana.

"Try to look at your nose," Pattie coached. "Keep your chin tucked, but do it from your stomach, not your neck."

"Uh huh," I breathed. My stomach was as taught as it could be but I gave it a go and pulled it even more.

"And don't forget to open your heart," Pattie added. "Swami Satyananda Saraswati says backbending is a journey into the nervous system and all of the emotions our nerves and organs can trigger—from fear to elation."

"Mmhmm," I hummed on an exhale.

"He says, for some people, arching the back can trigger fear of falling," Pattie read. "To counter that sensation, press forward with your hips and trust your body to hold you up."

"Yer pretty bendy, Bea," George called from the patio.

"George," Pattie huffed. "Don't interrupt. She's unblocking her heart chakra."

"Sorry, love," George sounded amused. "You're doing it just like the drawing, Bea," he added helpfully.

"Now, bring your chin to your chest and your hands to your hips," Pattie read. "Engage your lower belly and use your hands to support your lower back as you slowly come up to your knees."

I did what she said with a quiet grunt of effort, swaying forward onto my hands and knees.

George clapped for me and I turned my head to shoot him an amused look before I glanced at Pattie, who was sitting near me on the grass, grinning. She wore a wide brimmed straw hat and a long, floaty lavender dress with plenty of love beads draped around her neck. She was surrounded by the books we'd been studying all week with Kinfauns' swimming pool behind her and the bungalow's colourful psychedelic walls beyond that. It was so lovely here with the Harrisons.

I had been spending a lot of time in the suburbs since I returned from America. Being in London was too hard. The photographers were even more relentless than I could have imagined and Tony Barrow's strategy of letting the press see Paul and I only made them want to take even more pictures of us and write even more articles about me. After a week of giving that a go, I decided to follow my instincts and not allow myself to be photographed at all, and like three quarters of the Beatles before me, that meant retreating from London into the suburbs and the supportive arms of the Beatle Wives.

Pattie didn't have children to keep her occupied like Mo and Cyn, so she had plenty of time for me. Since she'd given up her modelling career, she'd taken up a quest for spiritual enlightenment through eastern mysticism, and I was all for learning a bit about that.

It wasn't like I had anything else to do.

"Now what?" I asked Pattie.

"Balasana," she had her nose buried in the Kundalini Tantra, a kind of bible for Tantric Hinduism. "Child's pose."

"Oh, thank Christ," I sighed and sank back on my heels, dropping my forehead to the grass. This was an easy pose I could have quite happily stayed in all day.