Natasha - The Artist

At 2am this morning, my husband, my two sleeping kids and I drove up to our house to find our driveway completely clear of snow. “Yeah!!!” we told ourselves. After getting 52cm (approx. 1′6″) of snow the day before, we were hoping that the 14 year old boy we asked to shovel while we were away for a week would get some help. He did, thank goodness. He had the key to the house which meant also access to our snow-blower in the garage.

What a perfect week we had. On March 4, the kids embarked on a plane journey for the first time. It was wonderful to watch them marvel in the beauty of the sky. It got me to see it for the first time again. How amazingly perfect is this world! At supper time, we landed in sunshine and warmth — wonderful Cuba. On the bus ride to the hotel, the cows, goats, roosters, palm trees, cactus’s, mountains, horse drawn buggies, old cars (we saw Flo from the movie Cars), all made my kids’ eyes as big as ‘loonies’ (a Canadian 1 dollar coin). “Regarde Maman!” they kept blurting out (“Look Mom!”). We could have turned around and hoped right back on the plane at that moment and it would have all been worth it. But more marvelous wonders were awaiting.

At the hotel, the Blau Costa Verde Beach Resort, an all-inclusive resort — it being our first trip with the kids, we wanted no worries about money and food – the kids, my husband and I enjoyed good food, a great beach, pool, room, everything was perfect. It’s a small resort, only 209 rooms, so it was quiet and we could find available pool chairs at anytime in the day. The staff was friendly and we met wonderful people from just about everywhere.

Being fifteen minutes away from the town of Guardalavaca, there were many excursions available. We had originally planned to do two, but one was attracting us most particularly, especially for the kids, and it being the most expensive, we only did the one. On Friday morning, we took the bus to the marina where we embarked on a huge catamaran, made to fit 80 people. Going against the waves around the island, our voyage was just like an amusement park ride. We were served drinks and snacks by the most friendly Cubans working just for us, to ensure we were all having a good time. We stopped near a coral reef, where my husband enjoyed snorkeling. I jumped in the water with my daughter, all ready with our snorkeling gear, she panicked first and wanted to get back on the boat. I didn’t complain — I have had this fear of swimming in open waters since I was a child. I was hoping to conquer it this week, but alas, I gave in to it. I will one day face it since it’s one of my last big fears I want to work on. My husband got to see beautiful, colorful fish (he saw Dory from Nemo), which he described perfectly for us.

Just before lunch, we stopped at the national aquarium where we got to swim with the dolphins. Wow, they are amazing creatures! I felt like they are very well treated, despite being in captivity. There were two babies and one dolphin was pregnant — when they reproduce it means they are happy. When I pet the first one, I was taken aback by the texture. Expecting it to be hard and like leather, I was surprised to feel rubber over very soft tissue. I was afraid to hurt it by petting it to hard. They were absolutely amazing and my kids said it was an experience they would never forget. We got a photo of the four of us and the dolphins giving us a kiss.

On the way back on the catamaran, it was smooth sailing — literally ’cause they took the sail out and we were going with the waves. We sat on a net at the front of the boat where you can see and feel the water beneath you. The Cuban landscape was beautiful.

The rest of the week was mostly relaxing by the pool and at the beach. We picked seashells for our friends; saw plenty of Hermit crabs and lizards. The kids participated in the entertainment at night. They also made great friends.

Yesterday, our voyage was ending. What a great ending it was!!! On the plane back, after a wonderful meal, I turned my head to peak out the window. A tear rolled down my cheek. A carpet of dark clouds was framed by a bright orange strip. The sun was setting. Looking up, a gradient of light blue to the deepest dark blue I had ever seen was endless. The combination of the orange and the blue barely touching was magical. The finishing touch was the tip of the plane’s wing, like a dark shadow with a single light at the end beaming a greenish glow. It was absolutely perfect, like the most beautiful painting.

What a wonderful end to our trip. It was even better when we got home and could pull into our driveway.

It’s been five months since I quit my full-time job at the government. At first, I took on many contracts, worked a few weeks as Production Coordinator and Graphic Designer on a show, took on more contracts, then more… Then it hit me. I was taking on all those contracts for the money. I was becoming overloaded with work and obsessed with making more money, in case I wouldn’t have any contracts the next month. I was miserable. I slowed down. I took on less and less jobs. I made less and less money, but I’m still here five months later. I am budgeting differently, limiting my expenses, but I am happier. I realized that I like graphic design, but I am really doing it just to survive. My true passion is acting. I am craving it, enough that I don’t feel like doing anything else. But acting isn’t cutting it money wise right now; so I have to kick myself to take on at least a few contracts a month.

It’s been five months… Five months of independence, non-scheduled days, no one to report to, freedom. I am happy. I love it. I don’t like having a routine to follow. It’s also the end of thirty-three years of routine, schedules, reporting to parents, teachers and bosses. It’s like reprogramming my system to live a completely different life. I’ve been programmed that you ‘have’ to work for a company with a boss to survive. You ‘have’ to have money to live. You do what society expects from you. For the past five months, I have done exactly the opposite.

My body is in shock. It’s grieving. It has realized that this is it. This is how it was meant to live. There’s no turning back, I’m too happy. So I grieve. I have reached the point where I don’t know what to do now. It’s like I am at the point of no return and I am confused about how to keep moving forward. Looking at the future right now is like looking into the abyss. Although it’s really like that all the time, we never know what tomorrow will bring, but in my case right now, I am letting myself feel it more. I face the unknown in a much stronger way than I used to.

Two years ago, I spent a weekend at a solitary camp not far from where I live. I needed the isolation from reality, and the quiet of the country. I got there the Friday around dinner time. It’s a great place. I had my individual cabin, with a wood stove and no electricity. It was amazing. I walked in trails all over the huge, wooded property. I was at peace. I would go pick up my food at the ‘kitchen’, a cabin near the entrance of the property, and bring it back to my cabin to cook it. Simple foods were always on the menu: potatoes, cucumbers, tomatoes, all kinds of veggies, fruit, cheese, milk, whole grains, … I picked up my water at a source about a 7 minute walk from my cabin.

The weekend was going so well. I was getting my energy back, energy I had been lacking for years. I was talking to no one (which is mandatory at this camp). Being an introvert, working in a very open area full of contractors at the time, plus raising a family at home, I never had, or took rather, the time to be by myself, to be quiet. So this weekend was a God send.

Sunday morning, I go out for a walk in a trail in the woods. After being out for about twenty minutes, I hear howling… like a wolf. Struck with panic, I freeze for a moment, trying to talk myself into just keep going. I loose it and turn around and run back to my cabin. I think it took me five minutes to run back. I catch my breath and make myself some lunch. While eating, I can’t get out of my head: “What am I doing here? I should be home with the kids. I want to go home.” My husband was picking me up the next day after dinner. I still had a day and a half to go. “Oh God, what now?”

I lay on my bed, crying, scared that I wasn’t doing the right thing. I decide to walk to the main house to call home so my husband can pick me up that same day. I knock on the door, a priest appears in the doorway. The place is run by Catholic priests, they don’t talk religion at all, unless you bring it up. Which is good for me, because I don’t practice anymore. They are there to listen if you need to talk. When I suggest I want to call home to leave, he kindly asks me to sit and chat before I do so. So I sit. He explained to me that I was at the point where my body was relaxed, I was truly with myself, and my body was starting to panic because it wasn’t used to that. I was used to always being busy, always having something to do, so I was now feeling guilty because I wasn’t ’doing anything’. He suggested I stick around just to see what would happen, to keep myself ‘busy’ by reading the books I had brought or by drawing. So I did, and how glad was I to have stuck around!

The Monday was amazing. I starting seeing things around me in a completely different light. It’s like I could truly see life. I heard things I had never heard before. I went back to my favorite spots to take mental pictures so I could return whenever I wanted in my dreams. At the end of the day, I was waiting for my husband and kids. I sat on a bench up on a hill. I had an amazing view. The wind was blowing gently on my cheek. I closed my eyes to feel it more. Then I heard a voice. I was channelling my guide for the first time. I was truly at peace with myself. I was grounded and centered. Holding on despite what my head was telling me was the best thing I could have done.

What I am feeling today, the confusion about where I am going, what I should be doing, is just like what I was feeling that Sunday afternoon. I think I should find myself a job, what I am doing is ridiculous. Who am I to ‘defy’ what society expects from me? You see, I am about to embark in the greatest journey of my life, and my body is resisting it. It’s trying to bring me back to what it’s used to — to the illusion of safety. I just have to stick with it. I have to keep riding the wave and not look back.   

Aren’t I just the luckiest?

Shane is a 7 year old boy, from Ottawa, Canada, who’s been battling cancer for a while now. His wish is to beat the Guiness World Record for the most greeting cards received, before he turns 8 at the end of May 2007.

A local radio station - 105.3 Kiss FM - is challenging people to send in greeting cards for Shane.

Now I challenge you to 1- send in a greeting card for Shane; 2- get your family and friends to do the same; 3- write a post about it on your blog and challenge others.  

The last record was for 350,000,000 cards. We can beat that!!! Although it might be 35,000,000 (even better), I’m not 100% sure.

You can send in your card(s) to this address:

Shane
c/o KISS FM
2001 Thurston Drive
Ottawa, ON, Canada
K1G 6C9

A simple gesture to make a 7 year old boy feel better.  The power of positive is amazing.

To learn more about Shane, visit http://www.tlpfoundation.com/en/child_profile.asp

Please note that no e-cards will be counted in the total.