Tide in, Tide out

The sea comes in and goes out again.
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Dear All,

Since January 8, 2005 when I started this blog, I have enjoyed the daily process. As my 'Creative Portal', it served as a space within which I was easily able to express and project elements of myself and my work - albeit drops in the ocean of 'me'.

Over this time I connected with many great people who entered the Now is Wow 'Portal'. Some came and went, some came and stayed. Some I never met in person, some I did - forming special connections.

Today's post will be Now is Wow's last post. I was sitting here wondering what to say about that ... wondering how to close this blog off without sounding too abrupt, too long winded or too whatever-else-would-not-say-it-adequately. In life's typical way, a few minutes ago, a symbol came along to assist me and to affirm everything. I had paused on my 'wondering what to say and how to say it' and went upstairs to get some water. There was a green bird (green tanager I think it's called) - one of my favourite birds - trapped in the kitchen, pressed against the closed window. (Thankfully Jasper wasn't about!) I went to it and, although it agitated a bit as I got closer, it did not seem terrified, as many birds usually are when this happens. I opened the window, said "There you go" and she flew away over the grass.

That story says it all.

I will leave Now is Wow up as an archive. Anyone coming to it will see this page and will be able to explore all that has gone before via the links in the sidebar. Those interested in following up on certain projects which are to be completed can read more about that here.

I thank all of you who, in a variety of ways, were a part of this online journey/experience. I wish each of you the best in your lives and in every endeavour. While this blog may be 'no more', one Truth remains eternally unchanged for every one of us: Now will always be Wow.

Love, Elspeth

Goodbye St. Lucia, hello Venus

(St. Lucia log: final entry)
Today is my last day in St. Lucia after what was definitely a worth-it trip. I feel rested, relaxed and renewed. I am trying to maintain this feeling and not think ahead, as I am wont to do, about returning to Trinidad.

While in St. Lucia, the differences between TT and St. L were glaring to me in simple ways: the polite, gentle people who cheerfully say good day whether you said it first or not ... the clean beaches and roads ... the rainforests where I didn't see a single plastic bottle, snack pack, KFC box, condom, name carved into a tree, cigarette butt, diaper, etc. ... the smooth roads ... the absence of towering buildings and rampant concrete, metal and glass construction ... the beautifully refurbished old wooden buildings ... the cool day breezes and unscorching sun (!) ... the smiling faces ... the lack of confused, aggressive energy and anger ... no bumper-to-bumper gridlocks! ... the absence of tons of burglar proofing on every window ... the respectfulness of men in general (no ogling at women, psssst, 'dahlin', etc.) ... only seeing one man urinating in a bush bythe roadside within a six day period ... the courtesy of drivers ... the cheaper prices ... and so on.

Increasingly I do not know what 'returning to TT' means. I feel numb and dispassionate when I think of it and, in order to return, I need to reconfigure. The other day, returning from Soufriere, I told Mel that even though I was born in Trinidad I don't feel that I am from there. She agreed (feeling the same) and asked me where I felt I was from. I said I didn't know ...

Then yesterday, as we were walking along the road to go home, a 'strange' man (vagrant-like, but not quite) called out from the other side of the road: "Where are you from?!"

He crossed the road to me and asked pointedly: "Where are you from?"

I told him: "Venus."

With a serious face, he continued: "When are you going back?"

"Tomorrow," I said.

He shook my hand, nodded and walked off.

Immaculate

(St. Lucia log cont'd ...)

Stained glass in the Cathedral.
*

Yesterday after a deep and reflective lunch in Castries, we went and sat in the cool darkness of the massive Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. It felt like being in the belly of what I imagine Noah's ark would look like if it was upside down. The intricate artwork on the high, arched wooden ceilings is amazing. How do they clean it and care for it at such a height? This question baffled me and Mel for a while as we sat on a front pew chatting and gazing around us.

I only took photos of the stained glass windows though.

I'm here ...

(St. Lucia Log)

A friend dropped me to the airport (Piarco, Trinidad) at 4:00 a.m. My flight was at 6:00. When I checked in, the woman at the desk gave me a food voucher for $35TT and told me that my flight was delayed for three hours.

"You will have to board at 7:30," she told me.

LIAT is giving trouble these days with strikes, etc., apparently ... but I wouldn't know since I no longer read papers or watch news.

A while later, I took out my food voucher to show it to Paula, the friend who had dropped me to the airport, and noticed that the flight number on the voucher was not the same as that on my ticket. I went to query it ... and good thing!

"Ooops," the woman said. "That's not your flight?!"

"Am I delayed?" I asked her.

"No, you can board at 5:00."

Turns out she mistakenly thought I was on the flight number she had written on the voucher. Had I not noticed the error and queried it, I would have waited until 7:30 to board and would have missed my flight.

I was so glad to touch down in St. Lucia a few hours later (connect at Barbados and connecting flight delayed about an hour). It is such a gentle place and the heat and stirred energies of Trinidad feels distant. My friend Mel's new apartment is fantastic - colourful, funky, peaceful and breezy. As I arrived and dropped my suitcase in my room, we sat and chatted for a good while, catching up on all that needed catching up on. It will definitely be a great visit.

Ticket to fly

A few days ago I decided that I need to cross water again and bring in the new year in a new place with new energies. I didn't feel like being in Trinidad for the transition. I thought of St. Lucia and how gentle and simple it is.

I wrote to my friend in St. Lucia to ask her what she was doing for New Years, etc. We are 'fellow Librans' and have known each other for over a decade. There are some people in life that you can 'know' within days or weeks of meeting them and continue to know them for all of life. The good friends I have now are like that. Quality does not need quantity when it comes to kindred spirits.

M wrote back and said she was just on the verge of calling me to find out what I was doing and if I would come. The fact that we had both had the same idea around the same time was good confirmation.

I hesitated a bit because of the unexpectedly high fare, but knowing that it would be worth it and that I deserve it, I went ahead and booked my flight online. As I pressed the "Confirm" button I felt myself get light and I knew it was the right thing.

My flight is at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning, 27th December.

Heightened

A surge.
Heightened connection.
My flower stalk is tall.
My petals open.
I drink the sun.
Purple.
Yellow.
We are connected.

In transit

The way has a life of its own.
Mysterious roads appeared.
We took them, walking.
Not knowing.
They were the right roads.
After a while, no questioning.
An interesting journey.

So be it

"Your life is a sacred journey. And it is about change, growth, discovery, movement, transformation, continuously expanding your vision of what is possible, stretching your soul, learning to see clearly and deeply, listening to your intuition, taking courageous challenges at every step along the way. You are on the path ... exactly where you are meant to be right now ... And from here, you can only go forward, shaping your life story into a magnificent tale of triumph, of healing, of courage, of beauty, of wisdom, of power, of dignity, and of love."

Caroline Adams

The Art of Life

Artist,
Here is your canvas sky.
Paint watercolour clouds.
Wash your brushes in the ocean.

In remembrance of my friend Patti's father, Ian Ali:
son, brother, husband, father, friend, artist and more to the many who knew and loved him.

Day of transition from this life: 16th of August 2007.

Maintenant je parles ...

Yesterday I made a simple but strategic move and went to register for French classes at the LLC at the University.

First I had to fill out a form, then go and speak to the Director who would assess my proficiency in the language and decide which class I would go into (beginners, intermediate or advanced). I had only done French up to Form 3 in school, but over the years I've had friends who studied French and I would often speak with them.

The Director was a French man with a Polish-sounding name. I sat in his office and he asked me to tell him about myself in French. Surprising even myself, I began to prattle. In French I told him my name, spoke about the things that I do and mentioned that I had learnt French for a while in school but over the years had spoken with friends who studied French, etc.

When I was 'finis', he said to me: "Oh, you are wayyyyy too advanced for the beginners' class. I will put you in 2A." He told me that at times it may be challenging, but: "I think you have it all stored within and now is the time to bring it back out."

As I left the building, after having paid my fees, I felt excited ... as if life was suddenly ablaze with colours and possibilities which I could not yet see, but could feel. Not just because of 'French' per se, but because of the deeper purpose behind it all.

Early morning

Blogging tonight, since I am leaving very early tomorrow morning for the airport. Clues to where I'm going below. Guess correctly and win a prize.

1. Begins with T ...
2. Familiar faces (from May - early June) meet again ...
3. Festivities

That dream plan again

Hmmm. A recurring message and/or desire. Last night's dream was clearly a continuation of yesterday's. For most of the dream I was in London, only it was Toronto, because my cousins and other people from Toronto were in the dream with me, living there. It was like having Toronto people in a London landscape.

When I was leaving Toronto/London, I went to the ticketing booth (check out) at the airport. The airport was one of those places that exists only in dreams and is familiar as a result of having been there a few times before. It has many levels and a lot of glass. I went up some levels and found the Asian girl who would be dealing with my tickets. She looked at my date of departure and said "You are not supposed to be leaving today. You have more time here."

But because the date that was on the ticket was in big red figures and was standing out, I had thought that it was my date of departure. I did not see the fine print. Nevertheless, I told her I would still leave on this plane. Someone (in real life) had been saying yesterday that 'everything happens for a reason' and that phrase came back to me in the dream as I stood in the dream airport. There happened to be a seat for me on that flight, so I left on the big red date, knowing that I had seen it that way for a valid reason.

I don't know why I keep dreaming London and Toronto together, but definitely things are happening on that (dream) plane. Maybe there's also something to do with London, ONtario?

Could also be because I have not yet put away my suitcase since returning from Toronto. It was against the wall in my room, then I had moved it to another spot and just a day or two ago I moved it to the centre of the room where it is sitting with a scarf and sweater on it, really just procrastinating about putting it on top of the upstairs cupboard where suitcases are. It looks like I am about to go again.

(Just realised the headline of this post is supposed to say: "That dream plane again", but I will leave the typo).

Touchdown

Slept for most of the flight (aisle seat 7C). Breakfast on the plane (which we got around 1 a.m.) was a herb omelette, hash browns, a spicy tomato and orange juice. Sat next to a woman from St. Vincent who kept waking me up to let her pass so she could go to the toilet.

Dawn was breaking as we flew over TT. I observed the hundreds of thousands of lights and Patrick's skyscrapers poking out from the dense cloud cover. Looked more like USA than TT.

Touched down safely at Piarco at 5:40 a.m. and my cellular immediately started beeping with messages. Apparently it had been on all month and I didn't even know! Surprised the battery lasted that long.

Weather: Rainy, cloudy, 23 degrees Celsius (Nice. My kind of weather).

Did not realise it is a public holiday (Corpus Christi).

It's also my nephew Liu's 8th birthday. I bought him a pair of binoculars.

Jasper looks fatter and is sporting a ripped ear. There is the strong smell of a dead lizard in my room, but I have not found it yet. His 'welcome home' gift.

Oh ... and my phone still isn't working.

Starting to say goodbye

May all of the seeds I have blown into wishes
Take root and grow and bloom.

*

The last time I felt sad about leaving anywhere was when I left England in 1991 upon completion of my Masters. I cried as the plane took off and I left behind my friends and my life there. I feel this time it will be pretty much the same. Even though it has only been a little over a month, it feels like it's been ages. Whereas I had liked Toronto before, I feel like I have been falling in love with it this time around. My cousin Gene said to me the other night: "You know, you feel like you've been living here for 20 years!"

I will be leaving Toronto on Sunday night and going to Montreal for a few days, returning to TO on the night of the 6th, to head straight for the airport. Going to Montreal will be a transitional bridge between TO and TT ... like leaving, but not really leaving yet.

Even though these last few days are extremely packed (with both work and play), I can feel my energies winding down and becoming quiet.

Known and unknown: Angels and Answers

(Canada Chronicles continued) ...Street sign at the corner of the road where the office is.
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The 'known' part of today involves going into the office for a preproduction meeting on the documentary we are working on. On my way there I will stop off and walk the labyrinth, which I have generally been doing every day.

The 'unknown' part of the day will involve being open to angels. Long story, but this journey seems to be full of them.

Yesterday I was in a large bookstore looking for a particular book. After I found it, I was wandering around looking at other sections. In the New Age section a book called "The Soul's Answers" caught my eye. It was a thick blue book with different 'answers' (messages) written on each page. The idea is to use bibliomancy to find answers to your questions. I stood there flipping the book open at random, getting various answers - often cryptic. One page opened three times during my flipping. It said: Fall away from thought. I took that as my main message, not only because it was the only one that had repeated itself, but because it is applicable. I tend to overthink sometimes.

I then came upon a shelf of books on angels and read two short examples of women who asked their angels to make their presence known to them (so that they would trust certain directions in or aspects of their life). To cut the story short, the angels made themselves clear by sending particular signs indicating that they were at work and present.

I was ready to leave, so I put the book down and said: "Angels, give me signs that you are present and let your messages be clear to me." Something told me to open "The Soul's Answers" again before leaving ... and guess which page it promptly opened on.

Fall away from thought.

Later that afternoon I was riding on the subway with my cousin and I brought up the topic of angels, asking her if she believed in their presence as messengers, guides, etc. in our lives. I was saying that they 'speak' to us in different ways, but ... sometimes we're so busy going about with our own agenda and thinking what we want to think that we don't hear what they're saying or feel where they're guiding us. Call it angels, intuition or what ... we can also ignore it or get confused rather than simply trusting and listening.

About a minute after, a tall man in a black t-shirt came and leaned up against the see-through plastic partition near the door of the train. On the back of his t-shirt which was facing me directly, was a simple slogan written in white:

Are you listening?

This journey ...

(Piece of a ripped flyer on a lamp post in Kensington Market)

*

(Canada Chronicles continued ...)

It's hard to explain or put into words what I have been feeling since being here. It's like trying to paint a picture without knowing what the subject is ... yet the image on the canvas already exists and is waiting for the conscious connection to be made so that the form can become visible.

The reason I was 'supposed' to be here turns out to be not the reason I am here. This does not surprise me. I was enrolled in a reflexology course. Everything fell so easily into place for it to happen. Yet, prior to coming to Canada, I kept being reminded of my journey to England to do my Masters in Criminology. Even though I got my degree at the end of it, my being there ended up not being 'about' the Criminology at all. (I never even became 'a criminologist'). It turned out to be about the experience of life, living, being, new discoveries, making great friends (that I have until this day), the freedom of experiencing and being 'me' in ways that living in Trinidad does not facilitate.

On Monday I got an e-mail saying that the reflexology course had been cancelled due to low enrollment. Somehow, I was not surprised or disappointed. Rather, it was like a confirmation or 'allowance' of something that is yet unseen. It made me feel this.

I immediately made contact acknowledging the cancellation, arranging refund, etc. and told the teacher what I felt: that everything happens for a reason and signing up for the course in the first place is what has brought me here, now, for whatever that reason is. She agreed with me, wished me a 'magical' reason and was grateful that I could have seen it in the way that I did ... rather than be disappointed, angry or inconvenienced, I suppose. But none of those feelings entered me.

Yesterday when I woke up, there was a line from a song playing in my head ... a remnant from whatever I had been dreaming. As I became more awake, the melody got clearer. It was a line of that song "Unwritten" by Natasha Beddingfield ... "staring at the blank page before you ..." playing over and over in my head like a stuck record. Strange, as I had not heard the song recently, do not really know the words and had not been thinking of it. The line was persistent and would not leave, so I looked it up during breakfast to see what the full words were. Clearly a message for now and always:

Unwritten
------Natasha Bedingfield

I am unwritten,
Can't read my mind
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning
The pen's in my hand
Ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in you
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten ,yeah

Oh, oh

I break tradition
Sometimes my tries
Are outside the lines, oh yeah
We've been conditioned
To not make mistakes
But I can't live that way oh, oh

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in you
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips x2 (twice)
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in you
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in you
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live you life with arms wide open
Today is where you book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
(YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!)

New leaves

(In Canada)

Yesterday I felt that life has a fixed pattern of its own which is beyond our 'knowing'. There is a grand plan. Despite our best, worst or no efforts, what is to happen will happen anyway ... and it's best to be freed by this realisation.

Small leaves
Float down big rivers.
New leaves
Spring from trees.

Pieces of yesterday

Look at the photos and write one sentence/caption for each. Put them all together and see what your three-line poem is. When finished, then scroll down and see mine.


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A sunny day.
I planted my feet in the centre of the Universe.
Flowers bloomed.

Arrived Safely

Early morning watercolour silhouette

*

(Canada)

My first flight on Caribbean Airlines was pleasant. They were actually on time, if not early, and the crew members were natural and friendly. I'm not interested in cricket, but during the flight the purser came on every now and then to give a cricket update on Australia and Sri Lanka. Her final update was to announce: "The captain has said to tell those of you who are interested in knowing who won the World Cup ... (long dramatic pause) ... AUSTRALIA!!!!" There was clapping and some vocal exclamations rippling throughout the aircraft. The husband and wife sitting next to me had obviously made a bet. The wife was squealing and dancing in her seat and punching the husband, telling him to hand over the money ... but he said nothing and just stared straight ahead.

The inflight movie was "Happy Feet", which was ironic, since the last time I was in Toronto I saw "March of the Penguins". Happy Feet is similar to 'March of the Penguins' only 'Happy' is animated and has a different storyline. But I guess it is patterened on it. If you've seen March of the Penguins you may understand certain things in Happy Feet better ... like the penguins meeting their soul companions, the fathers staying with the eggs while the mothers go off to find fish which they then return and vomit into the mouth of the then-hatched babies, etc. ...

The vegetarian meal was somewhat tasteless, but healthy: curried tofu, a tomato stuffed with something green (spinach?), semi-wild rice, corn kernels (as a salad), a small square of cake.

Sailed through customs smoothly. It feels great to be here. Up early as usual and the first thing I noticed is the birds singing outside. Not as many as in T'dad, but enough. And the sun is out.

Exciting!

Wings

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt, Wings, is very appropriate.

In a few hours I will be airborne, on my way to Toronto. Our airline, which bears the image of a hummingbird will be taking me there. The hummingbird's wings beat extremely fast. When I was small I used to think my shoulder blades were where my own wings were meant to be, but they jut hadn't grown yet. I think my wings would be large and beat slowly. I would glide and float on wind currrents like Eagles, Vultures and larger birds do.

I often wish travel could be like 'beam me up Scotty' from Star Trek. We would just say the words, dematerialize from one place and materialize in the other almost immediately. Then we wouldn't have to go through the airport rituals (filling out forms, going through customs, waiting, being on the plane, passports, hoisting luggage, etc.). I'm not fond of those pre-arrival aspects. I look forward to the moment I can put the suitcase down at my destination and know that I won't be moving again for a while as that new place becomes 'home'.

I will be blogging as usual.