The Heart of the Matter

“The Heart of the Matter”

It was my heart that led me to my castle by the sea. When I rocked our families’ worlds by marrying Daryl, my darling daughter, Jan, eight years his senior, was able to muster, “I am so proud to have a Mom who will go with her heart and Billy be damned what anyone says.” But it was the aching hearts of our families that could not bring them to welcome us into their homes that first Christmas which pushed Dare and I to head for parts unknown. Jan’s friend, Jordan, told us of a little Mexican fishing village named Christmas Sandbar by explorers when they landed there one Christmas day in the 1500’s. So it was that Barra de Navidad was our first home away from home. For eight years, we explored Mexico: Ajijic, Tepotzlan, Puerto Vallarta and San Miguel de Allende, but always, we’d end up back in Barra.

When our hearts led us to let each other go to find more age friendly lives for ourselves, it was my solo heart that I followed once again to journey with my surrogate son, Rob and friends, down the Pacific coast to New Mexico, realizing a life-long dream. As it turned out, my compromised lungs were miserable in the cold and rain that followed us everywhere, so by Arizona my companions’ hearts warmed to the idea of “getting Annie to the sun.” When we pulled into Barra, our only criteria after months of sharing motel rooms was to have a permanent home for awhile with our own bedrooms, safe parking for the car and a yard for my little Sheltie, Tiffany. We found the perfect house at the back of Barra , but while waiting in a little café for the agent to round up another bed, I spied a poster reading, “Artist’s Beach Studio for Rent. Reluctantly, the others humoured me by taking a peek at it while filling in time. As we got to the top of my stairway to heaven, we took one look through the doorway of the middle studio and gasped in awed unison. The view was spectacular. The windows spanned the end wall of the room, looking out on the Pacific Ocean—blue sea, blue sky and the sandy beach below. We immediately went into a huddle in the artist’s gallery out front to debate the pros and cons of renting that one stark cement room with no parking nor yard, for the same price as the three-bedroom house farther inland. After an hour, old Jorge, the painter who was subletting it, joked that he’d have to charge us rent for the time it was taking to make up our minds. We took a vote. For me, it was a no-brainer. Our majority of two ruled! I was in love with the place. Imagining its grandeur with lots of tender loving care, I knew I’d come home.

Only days later, I mused, “This is where I’m going to retire: “But Annie,” Rob protested, “You’re surrounded by discos, bars, drugs and alcohol. Where will you find kindred spirits?” My clarity came in my response. For years as an academic, I’d paid full -time attention to my brain. With the challenges of my first divorce, I concentrated on my emotional body. The real healing began when I opened to my spiritual Self, but now my physical body was crying out for attention. It was time I honoured it by choosing to live in the first environment that was bringing me relief. Sea level allowed me to breathe freely and the curative powers of the salty breeze opened my lungs again, stilling my relentless cough. “If I stay here, the kindred spirits will come,” I said. I swear not two seconds later, our next door neighbour, Patty, came over to me and said, “Rob is going to give you the gift of our massage therapy for Christmas. It would have to be this week, though, as next week I’m involved in a three week course.” That workshop turned out to be on sensory awareness, given by a 97-year-old woman who came annually till she died at 102. Though her class was full, I knew that it was just the help I needed to get in touch with my aging body. Seeing the red dress I’d worn to break through her blindness she said, “Your dramatic flamboyance is not suitable for this subtle work, but since the technique has made such an impact on people with lung problems before, I will give you a chance.” Though it was a painfully slow practice not to be embraced forever by me as it is with Charlotte’s followers from all over the world, it was a powerful moment of personal growth and the universe answered my prayer for kindred spirits in spades!

It wasn’t just my heart that found love in Barra--and I did--more love than I’ve ever known. All one needs to do here is go out on the street for hugs and kisses. Friends joke that it takes an hour to walk a block with me because the whole world is there for the greeting every time I venture out! Now that I stay home more, the world comes to me.

The heart of the matter is that serendipity brought me the real reasons for being here. Young people surrounded me, coming from big cities to work in restaurants. The need for a creative outlet for talented youth who had nothing to do in their spare time but party was terribly obvious. My mission here became one of fundraising for housing and food for twenty-one student actors and the airfare for my protégé, Rob, to facilitate these creative thespians to open to their creative Selves in intensive residential Playback Theatre empowerment workshops.

Synchronicity played a hugely powerful role with my own children, too. I gave them each a plane ticket to Mexico for their 40th birthdays. Having just finished a five-year stint at university and long divorced, Jan was ready for a holiday and for love. She flew in for three weeks over Xmas ‘98. Within days, my precious daughter met a gentle giant of a man. Huel turned out to be the love of her life. He followed her to England and nine years later they are still on their eternal honeymoon, moving back to Canada this year to build their white picket fence!

It took a little longer for my son, Jeh. Reluctant to travel, he finally agreed to use his plane ticket at nearly 43. Jan talked him into joining them when they came for a month during Xmas of ’02. He booked for only one week, but the minute his feet hit the tarmac, he was enchanted with his first holiday by the sea.. So much so that he extended his ticket to New Years and in the ensuing five days, beautiful Martha, one of my dearest Mexican friends, visited from Guadalajara. Like Jan and Huel before them, New Year’s Eve sealed their fate! Their hearts were taken captive in Barra de Navidad, too, and they’ve been carving out a life together ever since between Cancun and Toronto.

Though I love to visit other places, I am always a little restless when I leave here now, feeling transient somehow. When I travel, I’ve become a lady in waiting -- waiting to go home. It’s not only because my heart is here, but because so many others have brought their hearts to me that it feels like my eternal home. As my full time care-giver lovingly supports me through my days, my boast continues to ring true: “I’ve died and gone to heaven!”