Sunday, January 30, 2011

North Pole Journey: Day Five

Day Five: Monday, September 27, 2010

One Earth Family

Far from feeling rested after the immensity of the work we did yesterday at the North Pole, we meet this day knowing that today will be just as full as the day before. Lisa and Louisa meet us at the Inns North where we are staying in Resolute Bay, soon after breakfast. Sunanda, Rishi and I meet these wise Inuit healers once again to reaffirm the need for all people of all races and creeds around the world to understand one another at this time more so than ever. How easy it is for people to focus on differences, forgetting the richness of our true human nature and our brotherly interconnection. In a world that is to a great extent fueled by greed and suffering perpetuated through misunderstanding, we see the ravages of short-term vision tearing at the fabric of Nature Herself. Language can so easily divide. Yet the heart unites. We share with both of these beautiful women a connection that feels timeless and universal.

Sam The Inuit Hunter

Satish soon joins us to let us know that he has made arrangements with Lisas brother Sam for us to board his hunting boat. We are to go by boat to an iceberg, where we will showcase Satishs fabric and where I will sing.

Chris, the innkeeper, kindly drives us down the gravel road through the open land to the coast of the Arctic Ocean. There we meet Sam, who is busy cleaning his aluminum boat of a layer of ice and blood. Clearly not a recreation vehicle, Sams ten-foot-long by four-foot-wide motorboat is his main vehicle for hunting beluga whale.

Through we have never met before, Sams kindness is immediately obvious. A man short in stature but large in strength and heart, it is as though his form has emerged from the surrounding rock of this landscape. He provides us with life jackets and extends his hand to help each of us onto the slippery metallic surface of his boat. I look down where I now place my feet. The bottom of the boat is a pool of red ice water. At first I feel a wave of revulsion flutter through my stomach. As I look at Sam and his gentle manner, it is clear that hunting in this context is not based on ego-driven power and cruelty, but is part of a cycle of life based on survival and evolution. These are the traditional ways of the Inuit before airplanes, frozen food provisions and cheese-flavoured Doritos.

As the boat picks us speed, the Arctic wind cuts through my down coat, hood and gloves. I look at Sam who is dressed in a light jacket, wearing running shoes and no gloves. Armed with his hunting rifle slung over his chest, he looks out towards the broad ocean, standing with his hands on the steering wheel, his face carved by the harsh wind. He exudes a calm confidence as one who is born into this.
We pull up to the side of a large, flat iceberg surrounded by clear light-blue water. The edge of the iceberg hovers over the waters edge. Crystalline icicles like razor-sharp teeth extend towards the surface of the ocean.

Sam nimbly hops off his boat and onto the iceberg and once again helps us all do the same. He quickly points out areas on the ice that are too thin to walk upon, making sure we are all safe. His gun is ready, should any polar bear or sea creature decide to emerge from the ocean, while we are on this floating ice island. We choose our spot for the video shoot. The wind is brutally cold. We get right to work. The sun is now shining, but will not be for long.

Parvati and Satish on an Iceberg

Satish pulls open his fabric from his jute carrying case. Sunanda, Sam and I take a portion to help him draw it open. Rishi runs his video camera up and down its length, capturing its green colour and message fluttering in the wind. Satish seems happy, despite shivering in the freezing cold. He has traveled so far for this moment. On this iceberg, in the middle of the Arctic Ocean, he exposes the hand-penned words of dignitaries from around the world as a call to ecological action in light of the melting polar ice. I am proud to hold the portion of the eco-silk fabric that I happened to sign.

Rishi has captured all the footage needed. As Satish folds away the fabric, I set up my performance location and soon begin to sing the same four songs I performed at the North Pole just yesterday. This will provide us with both potential cut-away shots from yesterdays performance and backup footage should the material from yesterday be unusable. In this vast open space, I imagine that the shimmering surface of the icy water and the undulations of the ocean waves carry the sounds of my voice singing Hear This Prayer, Yoga In The Nightclub, 911-1-L-O-V-E and You Gotta Believe to every corner of the world. The air and ocean are my microphone and messengers, and all the worlds a stage.

With the light now growing dim and Sunanda catching a chill, we must get back to prepare for my performance this evening at the Inns North. We step into Sam’s boat and make our way to solid land. Once back to shore, we walk past the dog sled team that jumps up, alerted by our presence. With a dozen dogs staring us down, Sam encourages us to walk briskly by, as these animals are unfamiliar with us. The sight of Chris’ warm van driving towards us is a welcomed sight. Using binoculars from the Inn he saw Sam’s boat return and made his way to collect us. En route back, we hear the local radio station announce my performance tonight, a series of Inuktitut words and then my name, Parvati. We laugh. We all look forward to the community gathering tonight at the Inn, Meghan’s idea to turn our visit into the start of a regular coffeehouse event at the hotel.

Parvati Performs at the Inns North, Resolute Bay

While we were out on the iceberg, Meghan and Chris were preparing for tonight. With the smell of fresh-baked sweets, and the sound of furniture shifting, there is a buzz of excitement in the Inn. We grab a quick bite and then Sunanda and I go upstairs to prepare for the event.

About 50 people soon fill up the hall. The dining room becomes a stage. I sing Sanctified Skin, Open To This Love, Precious, You Gotta Believe and Hear This Prayer, after which I encourage others to make an offering to the evening. A few local teenage girls share their talent in Inuit throat singing. Louisa, in traditional costume, brings out her drum to accompany them. Then Sam gets up to dance and play Louisas drum. There is laughter, sharing and warmth here, in the Arctic desert at Resolute Bay. Sharing this light, this love is what we have come here to do. In the language of love, music and interconnection, we are one human family, all children of the same Earth Mother.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

North Pole Journey: Day Four, Part Five - Healing at the Top of the Earth

Day Four: Sunday September 26, 2010
Part Five


Healing work happens in the unseen. It is a process of becoming still and surrendered, enough so that we align with a much greater truth, beyond our limited ego or will. In that state, we move from a monochrome, black and white reality to what I call ‘hyper-real’, a tapestry of technicolour possibilities and infinite, co-creative abundance.

I have been privy to extraordinary and exceptional grace over the years, witnessing profound beauty emerge and be born from this state. It seems that the breadth of our human potential goes largely untouched. In the compressed, me-me-me centered rush of our busy, self-absorbed lives, we unconsciously play out old stories we developed as children and from times now long gone.

Here, in this place of vast Arctic immensity, surrounded in all directions by kilometers of pristine, crisp, absolute white snow and ice, I am acutely aware of what most of us, as a human species, are missing: the magnitude and magnificence of this moment. Everything lies there within, a place of infinite potentiality, void of all wants, the fulfillment of our deepest longings, loves and desires.

Faced with this expanse, there is nothing I can do now but bow to the Supreme Consciousness that is beyond comprehension, that defies understanding. It is this compassionate and wise life force that permeates and pulsates through all living things – the force of our universe and beyond - that of which I am made.

The technicalities of our video shoot seem far in the past. As we return to our airplane, our pilots share good news. We do not need to pitch a tent on this frigid ice. While we were shooting the performance footage, they located a wind shelter, courtesy of Parks Canada, that we can use.

We move through the snow that lay between the plane and shelter with single-minded focus. We enter a small cabin that is surprisingly sound. Equipped with a butane stove to cut through the fierce chill, it is has solid flooring, walls and a roof. It seems that the angels continue to grace our mission to serve all beings and our planet Earth at the North Pole.


In monk-like quiet, Sunanda pulls out from beneath her Arctic wear a book that she, Rishi and I very much respect. It contains the Lalita Sahasranama, Sanskrit prayers to the Divine Mother. We have traveled over 3000 miles (5000 kilometres) to chant these ancient prayers and make this offering to the Earth at the top of the world. The Earth is our Mother. She provides us with life and sustains us. But now, due to human ignorance, she is in distress. May our offerings serve in some way to alleviate suffering for all.

Sunanda turns on a recording of a monk chanting these sacred words. She attentively joins in. Rishi and I enter deeply into a meditative state. This is a setting I can use, a gift I have had since I was a child. As one Vedic astrologer said to me, I have a very strong relationship with the unseen. With my eyes closed, and with no attachment or agenda other than to serve the highest good, I begin non-verbal communication with unseen presences, energies as alive as that which are in flesh. In this, a transformative process begins to unfold.

Feeling cradled by the penetrative sound of the Sanskrit chanting, I let go and expand. In this field of possibility, I become witness to a rearranging and clearing that takes place all around us that we cannot see. We are far from alone.

Just as the North Pole is a dumping ground for our world’s physical pollution, I now see that it is also a dumping ground for the psychic pollution in the thoughts of humanity. I watch as energies shift, move, clear, reveal and disappear. All of life is unfolding, arising and falling - first in the unseen, then in the seen.

As I allow my body to be a physical conduit for the Earth (matter from which this body is made) to the unseen (source from which I am), an alchemical process unfolds within the next two hours. As witness, I see first a clearing of the space, which include evicting a variety of energies, then opening a gateway for benevolent Cosmic Intelligence energies so they may provide healing support for the living organism, the Planet Earth.

From deep within this meditative state, I am shaken. The pilots summon my attention. We have at most 20 minutes until we must be on the plane to make it back safely.

Sunanda concludes her second round of the Lalita Sahasranama, the thousand names of the Divine Mother, as I begin to bring my full awareness back to the physical reality of this Earthly shelter. As I open my eyes, I see that my breath still creates frost, despite our little heater hard at work. My body is dusted with black soot from the camphor we have been burning continuously.

The pilots encourage us to the cabin door. It opens and reveals dusk light. We must make our way back to the plane and begin our journey across the British Empire mountain range over Ellesmere Island, Nunavut, heading southbound back to Resolute Bay. We still have a four-hour flight until we are back to safety.

Once on board our tiny sea otter plane, I feel elation. Surprisingly not exhausted by the already twelve-hour day in extreme conditions, all I see outside the plane window is Nature shining. It seems She is very pleased. I sense all of creation singing joyfully.

Though the sun was almost gone from view, hidden behind the Earth’s surface, the world, the universe, feels lighter, bright and more expansive. In the sky, on the journey here, a strange, sharp, sparkling, golden light seemed to follow us. When I looked at it then, all I could think was that it was angel Ariel supporting us, with us, present.

Now en route back, a similar otherworldly light fills the sky, this time surrounded by rainbow colours of the setting sun. It is clear to me that we have succeeded in this mission to support healing the planet. It is clear to me that this trip, from beginning to end, is Grace, orchestrated from far beyond, and so much bigger than us all.

Monday, January 24, 2011

North Pole Journey: Day Four, Part Four

Day Four: Sunday September 26, 2010
Part Four


In the wind and -25C weather at the North Pole, Rishi unveils our video camera from beneath its own miniature “snow jacket”, while Sunanda sets up the tripod for the shoot. I take out my props, walk quickly through my routine now on snow, consider my performance flow, and check the lighting. The sun is fading fast but it will have to do.

Rishi starts shooting immediately. There is no time to lose. The two pilots told us that we can be on this huge sheet of ice for no more than three hours if we are going to make it back with enough gas and avoid any turns in the unpredictable Arctic weather. That is fine. In this polar cold, batteries don’t last long.

Dressed in my gold Natamba costume from head to toe, I position myself on the snowy ice to start my first song of four, when I realize I cannot move my hands. The deep cold has already frozen the acrylic paint on my costume gloves. This means I cannot press “play” on the backing tracks on my iPod, which is attached to me, buried inside my jacket and snuggled in with an additional hot pocket for warmth and battery life. Our boom box (plan A) having been lost on our various flights from Toronto to here, we start this shoot already working our plan B. Rishi’s iPod and earbuds are tucked into my costume and is the source of sound for my performance.

Since I am unable to start the music, Sunanda steps forward to help. But we quickly realize a problem: when Sunanda pushes the iPod start button for me, she partially undresses me, then zips me up, during which time I need to start singing. The first song comes in right off the top. Sunanda is now in the shot.

Thinking only of speed of execution, we pull the iPod from inside my snowsuit and clip it on my belt outside my gold costume, then frame the shot as a close up, so that Sunanda can push the button and quickly leave the set. It’s a plan! Away we go!

My face is now tight and numb, and icicles are forming on the strands of hair that escape from my hood. It does not even occur to me that it may be hard to sing in this dry, freezing weather. I start to sing. Rishi shoots. All is going well until about one minute into the song. The sound completely dies on my headset. In the extreme cold, the batteries have already run out. 

We quickly move to plan C. We will use the iPad. But then we realize that the iPad is back at the plane, a good 30 minute walk from where we are standing. But if we are to shoot at all, we have no choice but this.

Rishi captures footage of the surroundings and I review my performance in this setting, while Sunanda runs back to the plane as quickly as she can in the thick, crunchy snow over the frozen ocean.

Shortly after Sunanda leaves, Rishi looks at me with terror, his face rigid in the harsh cold. When we first landed, Rishi found that he was not able to operate the camera properly with his gloves on, so he took them off. Now, his hands, in such a short time, are literally beginning to freeze. He tells me he cannot feel them. I place his gloves back on his hands and rub them briskly to warm them up. He begins to feel like his hands are on fire, signs of early hypothermia.

Sunanda returns. Without a moment to lose, she zips open my snowsuit, pulls out the iPad from her coat, stuffs it inside my costume and pushes the headphones into my ears. Again, we face the same problem with her being in the shoot, but we see that we have no other choice.            

With all these delays and technical difficulties, we now only have twenty minutes to go through all four songs, which means one take per song. I drop any possible thoughts of disappointment that may be creeping into my mind and focus exclusively on my performance. This is what I have come here to do. This is as it is. No amount of grief will change it. I am focused on nailing each track.

We shoot all four songs straight through. Just as the last song comes to an end, the battery of the iPad also dies. I see this as Grace. We actually did it. I am comforted knowing that we are running two cameras so there will be some options in the editing. This footage will suffice to show my performance in the North Pole, where we have come to help raise awareness of the melting polar ice. This is already a success.

We quickly pack up our video and performance gear and walk back to the plane to collect our tent, find a spot to pitch it and begin the two hours of healing work we have come to offer our Mother – the planet Earth.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

North Pole Journey: Day Four, Part Three

Day Four: Sunday September 26, 2010
Part Three


It feels as though we have arrived on the moon. The plane seems even tinier now that we have touched down onto the vast field of pure white, untouched ice and snow. To the East, the wind has carved a few sculpted, hills made of solid ice. The snow extends as far as I can see, far out over the flat, vast ocean that is capped by solid ice, upon which we stand. The pale blue, expansive sky blends with the pale blue tinge of the snow, giving the impression of otherworldly groundlessness and infinite reach in all directions.

We are here for two reasons: for me to perform my songs at the top of the world and to do healing work for the planet Earth. Both of these are to help raise awareness of the speed with which the ice now beneath our feet is melting. In just a few years, we will be among the few who were able to stand here.

That thought seems hard to believe, as it is now -25C, yet this is unseasonably “warm” weather for this location. We were told that at this time of year, it was dangerous for us to land as the ice is thin. I also know that just as the Earth’s physical pollution is carried by wind currents and tragically collects at the top of the world, so too, the Earth’s psychic pollution gathers here. This was part of the call to come. At the crown of the body of our Mother Earth, we can, through song and prayer, offer our presence as service to ease the suffering She endures due to our human ignorance.

Sunanda, Rishi and I launch into high gear to get our work done in the short time frame. We have three hours here until we must board the plane for our safe return. The clock is ticking. We have scheduled for ourselves one hour to shoot the video of my performance and two hours to do the healing work we have come to do. All our actions needed to be trim, prompt and focused, especially with quickly fading light. Immediately we go to the task of shooting me singing four songs at the North Pole.

We are usually a strong, harmonious group, but almost as soon as we land, each one of us becomes anxious, pushy, cranky and tense with each other. One could say our behaviour is simply a reflection of the pressures of the day. Yet I know otherwise. The tricky energies here are seeping into our psyches. There is interference which does not wish our success. We must not only be on our toes to get our tasks done but we must be more inwardly alert than ever to be present as karma yogis, those dedicated to selfless service through action. I feel strengthened with the thought that our group of volunteers we call the Earth Team and the spiritual community we belong to in Toronto are actively praying for us and supporting the success of this mission.


Our first task is to look for the ideal location to shoot the performance footage. We need something that will capture the immensity of where we are. Strong light is key. We see in the distance a gorgeous spread of golden light across the snow as the sun begins its descent behind the plane. We decide to walk towards this shimmering expanse as fast as possible and set up the shoot.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes go by trudging with effort through snow and ice as high as our knees. I turn back and see the plane has become a dot in the distance. My heart skips a few beats as I crouch down to push away the snow at my feet and reveal thick, translucent ice. The image of polar animals swimming below me flashes through my mind. I am not on solid land. I am in the middle of nowhere and, now, far from the safety of our plane, the pilots, their rifle and our gear.

I realize that we have made a rookie mistake and already spent a quarter of the time we have for the video shooting, and we are no closer to our golden location. Panic sets in. I quickly conclude that, likely similar to being in a sandy desert, now in this snow desert, without any points of reference, that which seems close is in fact much further away than what our senses can perceive.

I stop abruptly and the sound of crunching ice and snow beneath my feet also ceases. I understand that we are chasing a sparkling, fractal illusion of light. We believe we are moving closer to it, yet it is quickly receding from us, drawing us further and further away from safety and now sabotaging our mission. I call out to Sunanda and Rishi who also stop walking. I suggest we set up our shot exactly where we are with the light we have left before we lose it altogether. This is our one and only chance to get the shots we needed. We cannot spend any more time seeking “the perfect light”. This is the perfect place to be. So we begin.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

North Pole Journey - Day Four, Part Two


Around midday, we land to refuel in the Canadian weather station Eureka, official population seven. As the plane lowers to the ground, I notice unusual animals in the distance that look like prehistoric woolly mammoths. As we deplane, the pilots tell us that we have landed near a heard of wild muskox. We are encouraged to take a closer look, so Sunanda, Rishi and I walk cautiously towards the heard. Their long, furry dark brown coats are layered with clusters of ice. A couple of beasts shake their heads, steam escaping from their nostrils in the rush of an exhale. They know they have onlookers. As though these creatures are the dark, rocky mountains that surround us come to life, a wild, untouched force feels clear in their presence.

Soon a truck pulls up to the plane. Two inhabitants of the weather station have arrived to greet us, offering us the use of the washrooms there if need be, while the pilots refuel. The three of us go quickly to be back in the sky about 20 minutes later. We still have another couple of hours until we reach our final destination.


As the hours pass, the kilometers of vast, expansive scenery out the plane window is breathtaking. Throughout the flight from Resolute Bay to Eureka and now here, heading northbound somewhere above uninhabited Canadian wild, we have been graced by clear skies. Below us I see rolling and plunging icy fiords with rock as black as night and snow a sparkling white as pure as crystal. We pass over dusty steel-blue-grey frozen ocean with broken sheets of pale white ice. When open water appears, it looks as black as the mountainsides, dark, deep and menacing. Certainly this landscape does not welcome humans. I am grateful, despite the beauty, for being in the relative safety of this tiny, warm plane.

Out of the window over my shoulder, I continually notice a shimmering light in the sky. It is as though a dancing ray has been following us since we departed this morning. It creates sharp shards of golden beams that pierce the sky, then grow into a fiery expanse. I lean into Sunanda and suggest that Archangel Ariel is with us. For sure, this plane, that I would call Grace, feels escorted by angels. Filled with prayers, mantras and healing intentions, there is a harmonious presence in us all, a surrender to this experience.


I notice the co-pilot Mark looking back at us from the cockpit to catch our attention. He signals it is about an hour until we land. Sunanda and I pull open our bags and get out hairpins, brushes, makeup, mirrors, costume and the wig. It is time for me to get ready for my performance and transform into Natamba, the Avalonian Goddess from my show. Using the petrol barrels as our tabletop, carefully and skillfully, Sunanda and I manage to paint my face, tie up my hair, place the new, makeshift wig on my head and clothe me fully in a gold flight suit, made especially for this trip.

Natamba to me is much more than an entertainment character. She represents the Cosmic Intelligence, the highest good in us all. The embodiment of I AM consciousness, she is a multidimensional co-creator of the most potent kind. On Earth to serve the evolution of all beings, it is perfectly fitting that ‘she’ will perform my songs at the North Pole. In effect, this is the journey of Natamba to the top of the world.

The plane starts to make its descent. Sunanda and I quickly wrap up our wardrobe preparations. Rishi gets his video gear ready. As we land, we know we only have a three-hour window to do all we have come to do, otherwise jeopardizing our safe return tonight. The sun sets very early. As it is already mid-afternoon, we must work very quickly.

As we land, Mark, already on the ground, opens our cabin door to help us deplane as it is a five-foot descent down slippery stairs. To his surprise, he looks up and sees Natamba in full costume emerging from the dark out of the cabin door hole. Amazed, he takes a few steps back and says: “Wow! THAT is cool!” 

Sunanda, Rishi and I climbed into the plane in the wee hours this morning. Five hours later, while the pilots focused on navigating by paper maps over the magnetic north pole, magic had been taking place within the cabin. Now a new character has emerged, transformed during the journey. Natamba, the embodiment of I Am consciousness, a representative of the Cosmic Intelligence, will sing to the Mother Earth and for all beings at the top of the world. Surely this is a most unusual adventure. 

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

North Pole Journey: Day Four, Part One

Day Four: Sunday, September 26, 2010
Part One


The morning alarm goes off just a couple of hours after I had stretched myself out to sleep. I pop out of bed, surprisingly not tired. This is the day I have been preparing for. We are going to the North Pole so I can perform my songs there. Rishi will shoot the video, and then we will offer healing to our Mother Earth at the top of the world – all to help raise awareness that the polar ice caps are melting at an alarming rate. I feel connected to warrior-like steadiness, ready to meet whatever this day may bring.

I peel back the curtains of the hotel window in Resolute Bay to see the dawn light not yet breaking amidst flurries, blowing snow and overcast skies. Today we are scheduled to travel about 800km by air. A momentary thought passes through my mind: will our trip be postponed due to inclement weather? I rule it out. I don’t want to go there, even though, over the last couple of days, we have been warned of bad weather and potentially having to reschedule our departure. We have been actively praying for all to go smoothly. I choose to only believe that am protected and lucky.

We quickly get ourselves dressed and downstairs to contact the airport for today’s weather forecast. Rishi makes the call. Is our private flight a go? He returns with a radiant face, saying the weathermen were surprised to report what they saw. The weather is low visibility everywhere except in the small stretch where we plan to land. Based on this report, we can leave. Sunanda, Rishi and I smile at each other. We all know that this is grace.

Meghan, the innkeeper, kindly drives us quickly out to the airport where a tiny Sea Otter plane awaits our arrival. In the twilight of dawn, amidst the blowing snow and -15º C icy winds, Captain Troy and co-pilot Mark greet us and help get our gear onto the plane.

As we board, we are told that today we have the “executive suite special”: Captain Troy points jokingly to a garbage bag-lined bin that is our only toilet for the day. The cabin is perhaps 18 feet long and four feet wide, half the space occupied by large, rusty metal barrels, our fuel reserves to make today’s journey.

Somehow, I like this plane. Perhaps the purpose of the journey itself inspires me and makes all things uncomfortable seem meaningless. Neither the prevalent smell of gasoline nor the uncomfortable, collapsible seats made of woven, synthetic fabric hung over metal rods is a bother. I have ridden for hours in a tropical jeep crammed with more than twenty sweaty people as we bump over dirt roads. I have slept on concrete rooftops, park benches, on the soil of dense forests and on the sand in open, raging beaches with few necessities. As the adventurer and one ready to serve the highest good in all, I feel ready for anything.

Wrapped in our down snowsuits, we each find a seat and buckle ourselves in. The engine starts abruptly, igniting a very loud sound that makes it impossible for us to speak to one another. I now understand why, when we boarded, we were given orange foam earplugs. It is now nearing 9am and it is getting light out. We must depart if we are to succeed our mission before nightfall.


The body of the plane shakes as we rise. Air vents switch on, providing some heat. Below us, the tiny box-like houses of Resolute Bay look increasingly distant. Inside this small cabin space, I am immediately struck by an intimacy with the sky, an almost physical connection to the air, the clouds and the atmosphere. I begin to feel as though the body of the plane is an extension of my own.

Aware of the warnings of the dangers of this trip that were echoed by the Inuit healers we met in Resolute, Sunanda, Rishi and I are busy invoking grace every minute of the trip. In the silencing noise, we are left alone to go within. We each quietly meditate and pray, tuning into the purity of this mission to serve all beings. We pull out our mantra books and each recite the thousand names of the Goddess, an ancient Sanskrit prayer to the Divine Feminine. The Earth is our Mother. To Her we offer these prayers.

Though the land looks pure, white and untouched, I sense the presence of energetic congestion. I can see it in our cities, the weather patterns changing, extreme heat, extreme cold. I can see it in people’s faces all over the world, the stress, the fear, the disconnect. Here too, I can feel it in nature, the agitation, the weight of the collective consciousness at this time on the planet. The earth is burdened. Here, Sunanda, Rishi and I are doing what we can, playing our part in helping to lighten the load. May these prayers serve. May these actions inspire. May all beings be free…

Friday, January 7, 2011

Back from hiatus, and North Pole Journey Day Three Part Three

I hope everyone has had a restful Christmas holiday. Thank you for your patience while I took a wee hiatus from this blog in order to do some inner work in preparation for the New Year.

In 2011, I will share here many more short and hopefully helpful blog entries intended to support your personal I AM journey so that you may live in the Positive Possibilities. Over the next couple of weeks, I will respectfully conclude the recounting of my life-changing journey to the North Pole, after which I will share new, inspirational material.

For me, 2010 was a year of clearing the deck and building solid foundations. This January finds me more focused than ever as I look to build upon what now feels like a strong base. I believe that with a true heart, a clear mind and focused actions, dreams are realized. In this entry, I share a story from the North Pole that I feel illustrates the benefits of focused determination. May it inspire you so that 2011 becomes your best year yet.


Day Three: Saturday September 25, 2010
Part Three

We return from visiting the thousand-year-old Inuit village that overlooks the Resolute Bay Memorial, ready to prepare for our final journey to the North Pole tomorrow morning. As Meghan’s vehicle rolls up to the inn, Sunanda and Rishi jump out of the side of the van and immediately get to work setting up our tent. We need to test it in this weather and icy ground. It will be even colder at the North Pole and we will have little time or resources there to deal with technical difficulties. We must be ready.

I go inside the inn to review my audio gear, double check my music backing tracks and look through the costume pieces for my performance tomorrow in -25C weather. The boombox to play the backing tracks and the golden wig that brings my character Natamba to life are yet undelivered by air, missing since we checked them in at the Toronto airport.

A line from one of my songs (yet to be released on an album) goes around in my head: There is gold in the dark as I bow down. I think of the humility of traditional cultures faced with the force of Nature and the gratitude for what one had. I think of the gold we find within as we bow down in the dark of winter to find the light within. I know this light exists within everyone around the world. Here in the Arctic, I know the Inuit have great teachings on how to find light in the dark and how to find tremendous courage, the will to survive when faced with adversity.

Rishi and Sunanda come in from the cold, seeming confident that our gear will work well during tomorrow’s Arctic trek. I let Sunanda know that we still don’t have the boom box or the wig. Sunanda, who has been following up daily with the airport, feels confident that our lost luggage will turn up on the only flight today from Iqaluit, which arrives around 9pm in Resolute Bay.

We sit down together with Satish Sikha in the kitchen and enjoy the company over tea while dinner is prepared. The inn-keepers Chris and Meghan have created a feast for us in celebration of our departure tomorrow for the North Pole. We are served a full turkey dinner.

As the meal comes to a close, Meghan gestures to Sunanda that it is time to go to the airport to collect our luggage. They head out, while Rishi and I review my technical findings regarding the audio and video gear for tomorrow’s journey.

About an hour later, Sunanda returns from the airport with a look of shock and horror carved in her frozen face. The wig and the boombox were not on the flight. That was the last flight arriving in Resolute Bay before we leave tomorrow morning. Despite all her efforts to ensure the luggage arrived on time, we are left in an awkward situation. So much work, money and effort has gone into this performance at the top of the world. And now, essential pieces for the show are missing.

I waste no time thinking about what is lost and fly into action. We left Toronto with a back-up audio system, so Rishi and I quickly discuss the plan to use an alternative music sources for the performance. But the wig…that is essential and irreplaceable. What to do? Like the crown that creates a queen, like the halo that creates an angel, the character Natamba, a gold ray multidimensional being that embodies the essence of I AM consciousness, must have her top piece. The performance would not be complete without it. And we have traveled so far for this…

I feel a hot, lava-like force run up my spine. I think to myself: We leave at dawn. Natamba needs a wig. This is not rocket science. I can build one now. I look at Meghan and tell her I want to build a wig. Surprisingly, she rolls with the idea and springs into action. I know there is no synthetic hair or lightweight plastic tubing to create anything as elaborate as the wig from Toronto, but I don’t care. I am completely determined that in this high Arctic desert, in what feels like the middle of nowhere, with limited supplies, there has to be a way to create a new headpiece for Natamba tonight.

I remember that Sunanda and I thought to pack extra gold fabric, a needle and thread and a glue gun for potential costume emergencies. I ask Sunanda to please go and get these. I let Meghan know that we need something to create round shapes over which I will weave the gold fabric. Meghan looks at me with a look that somehow said, You are completely crazy and this is so much fun.

Throughout this, I did not notice that Louisa and Lisa, the gifted Inuit healers we had met a couple days ago, had stopped by the inn. Rishi had gone to greet them and show them in. He and I had asked them after our last visit if we could capture some of their wisdom on video. Rishi, Lisa and Louisa disappear into the lounge upstairs to set up the interview.

Meghan and I rummage through the kitchen and the storage room just behind it. After attempts at creating tubing with pasta and string, Styrofoam and cat-5 internet cable, finally we discover that a sharp knife will turn mayonnaise tub lids and gravy take-away lids into the circular shapes we need. The internet cables help to give strength to the gravy lids. Duct tape holds the circular pieces together.

Sunanda and I cut up the gold fabric into thin strips and wrap the plastic lids with the shimmering gold, held together by the needle and thread and the hot glue gun we had brought from Toronto. After a few hours of focused work, a new version of Natamba’s wig is born, one that is now made especially for this North Pole adventure.

It is 2:30am. Lisa and Louisa have long since completed the interview and returned home. We pack up the last bits of gear in preparation for a quick start in the morning. Now we must get some sleep. In just four hours we will rise to make the trek of a lifetime to the top of the world.