Change is in the Air

About 20 years ago I landed in Havana, Cuba for two weeks. I was a college student involved with an exchange program studying the status of women and their medical care.

I remember a lot of things about that trip. I saw children sing for me at the elementary schools. I saw healthy babies be born after their laboring mothers rocked in chairs next to other laboring mothers. I drank "cuba libres" in the hotel bar, with a guy named Christobol ,who was trying to convince me that Fidel Castro was the next best thing. Maybe he was... Maybe he wasn't... Who knows and who was I to judge what was best for that beautiful little island.

When I think back to my time in Havana, there is one moment that stays with me. I was living on the 16th floor of the old American Hyatt now logically called the Havana Libre. It was hot. Hot like it can only be on an island, in the middle of the summer, in the Caribbean . One afternoon I couldn't take sightseeing anymore and escaped to my room for a siesta.

I stood out on my balcony overlooking the expanse of the city below me. Off in the distance there was a storm coming. I could see the rain coming down in sheets creating a grey blanket over the skyline. The wind picked up and blew all around me. It cooled me and excited me at the same time. It was sensuous and powerful. It was raw. That moment stayed with me because I stood there alone, and watched this storm come towards me. I felt its' power. I stood there and took the soaking that it dumped upon me with gratitude.

I can feel the storm coming towards me now. I can feel the wind whipping around my legs, the water ready to dump down my blouse. I can feel the power of all that the world has to throw at me and I stand here unafraid.

I am grateful for the ability to feel what is coming towards me at such an amazing speed.