The food was garbage … but my room was spacious and so clean, the maids wonderful, the tourists comical and kind. And that Cayo Coco beach in Cuba (last March) was the most turquoise brilliance I’ve ever seen after my Benjamin Moore “Caribbean blue” painted living room wall, I’ll say.

When I arrived at my room toward 6:00 pm in the evening, I was excited about the heat and the view. And without sorting my suitcases, I departed quickly to run down to the beach by myself to touch the ocean water, to spread my feet on the sand, and to view the wide expanse of water as far as the eye could see.


To think of the sea creatures underneath, the mysteries, the dead bodies from sea wrecks, and to consider the pathways of voyages and discoveries — and a world FAR from our world of Ottawa.

I couldn’t help comparing the sound and movement of waves to our own breath. The regularity of the ebb and flow, and the heave and release. The push and the pull and the continuity, consistency and ever-flow.

When will the ocean die?

Because our breath stops. And then we die.

That is the end of our ocean force within, and there is no more movement and flow of water-blood through our veins to pump our hearts that machine our systems.

But what is the machine that runs Mother Nature? Where and what is the HEART of Nature that allows its waves to pull in … and push out?

Nature heals. It gives perspective does it not? It infuses cities through greens spaces, communal gardens and balcony gardens with Life and hope that not all must bought at the grocery store, and beauty need not be bought always at the florist or only in exotic countries.

We deviate so much from what is natural, which is sadly, the most unnatural thing in the world.

While we can’t all run off to live mediterranean lifestyles nor could I survive the tropical heat of Caribbean hotness, it’s undeniable that we’re like plants who need nourishment of the Earth’s materials.

So why do we eat shit? Why do we not replenish our ecosystems with fresh blood through exercise. And why, WHY do we pollute our minds and hearts with toxic crap and dramas?

I like rivers, too. They are wild in the rapids and they don’t give a fuck if they are falls. Torrential and turbulent, a gorgeous spitting mess of noise … that flows out peaceful and clear and provides surface for lily pads and quiet canoes.
Ah, the nature of our human nature.

Much like we are ruining the Earth’s pristine landscape, we ruin ourselves with oily disguises, forest-fire tempers, scorching pain and polluting thoughts.