Bonne Vie

                                                                  C'etait moi, sous l'Arc de Triomphe

Au revoir until the next journey that will become in this boundless and blessed life.

Apres le voyage

La Danse

Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux

Musee d'Orsay 

A word 

As you might imagine, I was unable to access adequately the internet and was unable to post my final days in Paris.  I have included a number of pictures that journal for you the places visited and the visions embraced.  

My beloved family and I relished and exhausted each and every day in Paris.  We delighted in a Bastille Eve soiree with the beloved Lynch family in The Marais neighborhood, the fourth arrondisement.  The Bastille Day celebration certainly helped usher in a marvelous week of touring Paris.  We even ventured outside of Paris for a day's trip to and from the stunning Mont St. Michel.  The days minutes and miles were sewn together by countless trips on the incredible Metropolitain and a pied by foot.  

Day by day, we gathered the visions of Paris and France into our minds and our lives.  Like a quilt, the varied fabrics of monument, sculpture, bridge, river, cafe, stair, tower, stone, and street, pieced together became the journey for us all.  The many sights climbing into the sky: La Tour Eiffel, Basilique du Sacre-Couer, L'Arc de Triomphe, La Grande Arche, La Tour Montparnasse, La Tour St. Jacques and the pictures closer to the ancient Parisian earth: Le Pont St. Michel, La Rive Seine, La cimetiere du Pere Lachaise, Notre Dame, les jardins, la vieille terre  sous la vieille cite, fold one over the other in a landscape that is old and modern, haunting and inspiring, quiet and yet ever telling her story.

And though I believed I absorbed wholly the known and still mysterious city of Paris, I am certain that I grasped only the edge, the magenta and silken piping, of her gloriously quilted life, ever pulling itself out, adding a new color and texture, and being resewn into the rich, starry, and pulse beating town.  

A thought

"Le plus important est invisible."

What is most important is invisible.

I have been back in the States for a week now and am still recuperating from the voyage a Paris.  This place where you have graciously joined me has been a touchstone for my days and an essential space to reflect.  The time in Paris was magical in so many ways, as my daily journals detail.  The time was also very much a challenge.  Paris is the city of bright lights, golden spires, winding river, bidding gardens, colored shades, crossed bridges, and narrow streets that altogether inspire awe and romance.  Paris is also a bonne ville a good city where a different language is spoken and, not only, her unique culture abides.  The city is one that beckons me to return, yet I am more aware now of what this particular journey demands.   

Antoine de Saint Exupery's character of the little prince shares that "What is most important is invisible."  All the classes attended, the visions captured, the friendships renewed and made, the pictures noted, and the conversations in French feebly attempted are not adequate to express fully what exactly happens on a journey away from the familiar.  Some homeplace within and a young girl living there is asked to grow up, and grow up in those ways mostly that are painful and require a very palpable intentionality.  This stretching demands a daily setting free those seeming realities of control, appearance, knowing, and expectation.  This kind of acceptance is down right difficult.  Yet walking along this new road of unknowing, so much that is unseen, even invisible, introduces herself, even bears a new way unmapped and mysterious, finally seen and at last attempted.  

A hope

"Toutes les grandes personnes ont d'abord ete des enfants."

All grown-ups were children first.

May we all remember the precious words of beloved Antoine de Saint-Exupery's little prince. 

May we welcome the moments of unknowing, risk, vulnerability, wonder, watchfulness, reception, and discovery that offer us the life of always being made new.

Le Douxieme Jour et Le Treisieme Jour, Jeudi 10 et Vendredi 11, Juillet 2008

La Classe Francaise, avec mon bon professeur 

A word

As you can guess, my days are becoming a bit busied for time.  I rushed to school on Thursday to access the internet, but the half hour flew by as I responded first to all my e-mails.  So, forgive the petit nature of the posting.  

Thursday morning I visited again Le Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise to find beloved Frederic Chopin, Amedeo Modigliani, et Edith Piaf.  Under a cloud-freckled sky and armfuls of flowers, these folk rest in peace.  Just in my one morning visit, each of the resting places received dozens of guests.  The time here with all of them and their monuments reminded me to be more intentional in my own life and with my own family, visiting those precious folk who have been so precious to me.  (Grandma, I have thought about Grandpa every day since I have been here in Paris, meditating on his days in the Second World War.)  Honestly, I regret not having been more intentional thus far.  Father Lachaise graces me with a essential lesson.  Merci beaucoup, Pere Lachaise. 

After classes ending at 7:00 p.m. (or 19:00 h.), I returned to my homestay for dinner and packing my things for a final overnight there.  I spent some time with my roommate Sylvia from Mexico and mes parents franchaise, dutifully gathering all of my things together and tidying up my space.  I have learned much here, probably some of the most important things.  At two weeks' end, I am glad to be moving on to an apartment in le cinqieme arrondisement - Le Quartier Latin.  I will now spend the remaining days of my holiday with my mother and discover the city of Paris with a person much beloved.  The change will be nice and, of course, more known.  As I have said, "Je suis pret."  I am ready.

My location will change this evening and, according to the description, I will have internet access.  This is my hope as to continue posting.  Though, admittedly, I will be on MORE of a vacation then.  So, I am not sure that I will post every day.  I will delight though in continuing to share the images and reflections of this journey here in Paris, France.  It is my honor and pleasure to do so.

A thought

A hope

Le Dixieme Jour et le Onzieme Jeur, Mardi 8 et Mercredi 9, Juillet 2008

La chere Famille Lynch et moi au Cimetiere du Pere Lachaise

A word

My apologies for being out of touch for a day.  Yesterday, my morning was full with classes and, with great delight, I was able to meet dear friends from the Northern Neck for a late dejeuner, again at my favorite place Un Jour a Paris.  The beloved Lynch family had been a precious constant in my life as I had had the pleasure of teaching all three of the sons.  At different times in my tenure at CCS, I taught the elder two sons in English Language and Literature and, with the youngest, I taught Theology.  Of course, they were, respectively, 16 and 18 years of age then.  Today they are grown men, really.  What an honor to have spent some time with the generous, adventurous, good, and MUCH beloved Lynch family yesterday!  Not only was I treated to a lovely lunch, but we also made our way, by metro, to the incredible Pere Lachaise Cemetery.  It was a pilgrimage of sorts and, with the little bit of time we had (the cemetery closes at 6:00 p.m. sharp), we saw the resting places of French poet Guillaume Apollinaire, French author Marcel Proust, English satirist and author Oscar Wilde, and of course, American musician Jim Morrison of The Doors.  There were other folk whose resting places we wished to discover, but alas, we were firmly directed out of the cemetery at 6:00 p.m.  We even pushed the bounds a bit to make sure we found Jim.  And we did.  My hope remains to venture back to Pere Lachaise and visit Chopin and Modigliani before my time in Paris comes to a close.  The picture at the beginning of this posting is taken right outside one of the cemetery's entrances.  My dear roommate Kasia took the picture of us all, so to place in pictorial history the kinds of family that are created in school communities, the length of years in which these relationships abide, and the incredible places wherein you graciously rendez-vous.  What a magnificent surprise it was to be with family here!  Also, the picture to the side is at grand Oscar Wilde's tomb covered with painted, lipsticked kisses.  There is a sign asking visitors to not touch and deface this historical monument.  So, I leaned in very close and imitated what many guests had done before and felt the spirit of shared admiration and affection.  (And, by the way, we did get a little lost thanks to my getting lost in French translation.  Nevertheless, the Lynch family was up for the mission in good spirits and humor.  What a gift!)

Today, of course, is my busiest day of classes, so I am stealing away in the salon for a half an hour to post and then will run and pick up something for lunch at the supermarche.  In the day from 8:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m., I am in class for the day's entirety, save one hour for lunch.  Yet the time is flying by and I am sad that these are my last few days of classes.  The school has been a sanctuary of sorts and I do wish, very much, to return and continue my French instruction.  The time has only further created in me the desire to speak another language and, in that practice, open up a world of ever widening circles of family, friendship, and life's transformation.  Also, in this, I realize that this kind of living takes MUCH more work on my part to pay attention, listen, and wait.  I could use a whole summer, a whole year, a whole life even, of this kind of living.

My homestay has also provided me with some very surprising, transformative moments.  Getting to know the family as well as my housemates offers me a myriad of new, unexpected, challenging, and, ultimately, heartening engagements for which I could never have imagined, planned, or controlled.  This, perhaps, has been the greatest growing edge of my time here.  I look forward to sharing some interesting stories with you all when I, prayerfully, arrive home gladly and safely.  Until then, I revel in this time and wish you were here, in person, to discover this city with me.  The Lynch family provided me with a taste of beloved family alongside and, hence, I dream of future days with you all on the journey   

A thought

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much."

*Oscar Wilde

A hope

Le Huitieme Jour et le Neuvieme Jour, Dimanche 6 et Lundi 7, Juillet 2008

Pyramide du Louvre, I.M. Pei

A word

Sunday was the first in exploring the city, the magical and recognized details of Paris. I woke early and checked out of the hotel with only one bit of trouble. Evidently, in Paris, it is bad form to sign for things with red ink. Though when I checked in, the host who welcomed me had me complete an information sheet completely in red. Even so, as I signed my statement, the gentleman yelped with horror, "We do not use the red ink. It is used only for correction." I felt terrible! This was, of course, after he demanded that I speak in English because, as I am still learning, my French was, I guess, too agonizing to weather. C'est la vie! One must continue on full of courage, as my homestay parents say "Bonne courage!" and practice, practice, practice.

After the short hiccup of checking out, I decided to make my way to the right bank and attend church at the American Cathedral in Paris, an Episcopal church in the city, located between L'Avenue des Champs-Elysees et La Seine. The Cathedral is directly north on Avenue George V from the Pont (bridge) d'Alma. In my courageous mind, I thought that I might make a morning of getting there and walk the whole bit. So, I left the hotel at 10:15 a.m. and made it just in time for the 11:00 a.m. service's commencement. If you were to check out this distance on the map, you might be inclined to metro. Yes and even so, I decided to walk and see much of Paris yet unseen. So, from just barely north of Le Tour Montparnasse in Saint Germain des-Pres to just slightly north-east of Le Tour Eiffel, I walked with two small bags at either side of me on a very windy morning for almost an hour. Oui, I walked and, to boot, with a sundress that blew every-which- a- way with the blustering wind. Golly, with the two bags and making sure my dress remained in proper form, the walk turned into more of an exercise in patience and endurance than I ever could have imagined.

Nevertheless, as I walked, I took in some very magical sights like a walk up Le Boulevard Saint-Germain, a view of La Rive Seine, and, at long last, Le Tour Eiffel. (I had seen the tower once, from afar and to my west, when I was lost Saturday. It was one of those eureka moments. There she is ... Le Tour Eiffel!) The journey took a good 45-50 minutes, but in light of these visions, the stretch was well worth it! And when I say that I saw those several well known places, there are so many magnificent places. All together, they are a collection of gorgeous, architectural, historical jewels strung out along the city's form. They lie there, perfect and glittering, set securely in the ancient soil as golden ornaments purposed for the city's presentation. With bags in arms and skirt objecting, it was impossible for me to take photos of them all! Paris is a truly spectacular city, with visions to dazzle any of her guests.

After church, I hopped onto the metro at George V and stopped at Tuileries to see Le Roue de Paris. I waited for two of my housemates hoping to take a small adventure. Alas, they were unable to make the date and since I have no mobile, I relied on good old fashioned waiting. So, I waited and watched and decided to wait until another time for the joys of Le Roue. And this will be in the next two weeks! What a thrill it will be as the view is supposed to be spectacular. From the Roue, I journeyed to the Louvre for the museum's one day free to visitors. I spent the afternoon with the French sculptures that are so grand and awesome they take your breath away. The Louvre itself will take your breath away. What a world in which to get lost!

A thought

A hope

Le Septieme Jour, Samedi 5, Juillet 2008

Le Jardin du Luxembourg

A word

Thankfully, the small hotel that I am staying in for the night has access to the internet.  So, before I go walking around the quarter, I share a short message.  The evening in the city will be nice as I will take in a bit of the city on my own.  On the way to the neighborhood, I was lost only twice.  I asked directions of three people.  One was a French woman and the other two, an American couple from California.  My experience has always been that I learn best when I end up getting lost.  So, it is necessary for me to brave the outdoors, enjoy dejeuner lunching, and make sure to get a little lost.  I have made sure to turn on the television in the room and listen to all the French being spoken as to receive a little by the grace of osmosis.  :)  The Tour de France  is on right now and I listen as two gentlemen remark on all the action of the race.  Also, today happens to be a rainy day.  I believe it will be rainy for the next couple of days as well.  The good news of a holi-day and the rain is the slower pace of getting around and a more restful spirit of taking in the sights.  This day is sure to be a gift, a week-end retreat from the first week of intense,day long classes.  A day of breath and quiet and reception is a treasure to be relished.

I made my way out and walked east on La Rue de Notre-Dame des Champs and checked out the neighborhood wherein I will stay in a little over a week.  The quarter is pres de very close to the the Luxembourg Garden which is quite manificent.  On the way from St. Germain des-Pres to the Latin Quarter/Luxembourg Garden area, I stopped by a little market and picked up seltzer water, cherries, plumbs, and sweet biscuits.  There, I also lost my map.  Thank goodness, I always have two on hand!  But, I did like all the marks I had made on the run away map.  So, I stopped into a subway station and picked up a new one, on which I have signed anew.  Claiming this territory had been fun for me.  My other map is a plastic one upon which I am unable to make notes and have a sense of the land that I have explored and gotten to know.  Fear not!  All is well and I am restored to two maps in hand.  

On the way back to the hotel, I stopped into a spiff little brasserie and ordered a petit steak and les pomme frites french fries.  The waiter brought mustard for the fries, so I decided to give them a try and they were delicious!  Even with the rain, the day has been lovely and restful.  Though I am spending this time on my own, I find that the many moments are in some ways terrifying and at the same time heartening, also brimming with solitude and yet sparking with inextricable connection.  At le diner dinner, I found myself reflecting on a memory, sad and regretful.  Though interestingly enough, the remembrance intensified in me the deeper impression of a watchful life, loved and very much alive.   

A thought

"To have another language is to possess a second soul."

*Charlemagne, 742-814

King of the Franks, Emperor of the West 

A hope

Continued thanks for traveling along with me on this journey.  Your presence with the many prayers and moments you share are much appreciated! 

Le Sixieme Jour, Vendredi 4, Juillet 2008

A word

In terms of classes and new understandings, yesterday was quite enlightening and exciting for me.  As you probably know or can guess, I speak French a little like Tarzan might, solely in the present tense and absent of any other, say, helpful tense, such as the future or past.  C'est dommage!  How regrettable!  This is an irritating process for me and for those who struggle to listen to me.  I preface each statement with "Dans la passe" ou or "Dans le future."  This is an  incredibly arduous way of speaking.  So, yesterday's writing class on using passe compose and imparfait was excellent.  Now I can awkwardly get through a sentence, and in suitable (for the most part) times, use the passe compose or future.  Still stilted, but evenso, the situation is much preferred to the Tarzan speak with which I have become far too comfortable and familiar.  My writing professor is patient and of good humor with a proper French name like Laurent.  Bon professuer!

Today is Independence Day for my American home, so I am wearing a bright red shirt and blue jeans for the occasion.  As the weather was quite chilly this morning, the jeans and long sleeved shirt were perfect.  But, as the day has warmed up a good bit, I have pared down to my white tank and jeans.  I sit in a cramped and brightly sunlit corner of the school's salon and write to you, my friends.  As one of the professors plays on the small piano in the sitting room, I meditate on how very blessed I am to be sharing a small bit of July 4th with you, even if from afar.

Today's morning was busy with my first weekly exam and language class with another one my bon professeur s, Anne-Marie.  What has boggled my mind is that throughout each one of my days, for the whole of the day, all that I hear and speak is Francais.  It feels a bit bizarre to write in English.  Moreover, what is so incredibly cool is that a whole class, meal, or conversation, will carry on and I alors then realize, "Hey, I have understood much of what has been said!"  With a class full of folk from Spain, Poland, Turkey, Canada, Mexico, Denmark, etc., it makes perfect sense that not one question should be returned with an answer en anglais.  The professors respond always, further, en francais.  And, in turn, I find myself taking notes, also, entirely en francais.  C'est bon travail!  It is good work!

I am not sure how often I will be able to access the internet this weekend.  In the case that I am without a way, I will most certainly post on Monday.  For a little adventure of my own, I have reserved a small and reasonably priced room in the 6th arrondissement neighborhood of Paris, called Saint Germain des Pres.      

A thought 

two souls

In the vast and inexhaustable country that stretches out infinately within our being, our travel here is given form with word we have already mapped and known.

Yet in the quiet of listening, we discover this always abiding universe, ever being stretched and born.  Beyond is the grander length of land within, remaking herself with new words and the telling of a companioned mystery in the terrain untouched and uncharted.  And, always abiding, the place bids us draw the course.

A hope

The good news is that I have added a link with some French language practice.  If you are interested in a little French work of your own, please access this helpful link and have a little fun.  In lab yesterday, we worked with some of the exercises and I enjoyed very much reacquainting myself with the sounds and mechanics of the French language.  

Le Quatrieme et Le Cinqieme Jour, Mercredi 2 et Jeudi 3, Juillet 2008

A word

My time is MUCH busier now as I have classes throughout the day and not as much time to have fun with blog conversation.  Though even with the business, I am, as my dear uncle says, enjoying all the new experience.  In many ways, the challenge lies in being a student again.  I am living with three roommates, attending class with folks my own students' age, and learning an entirely new city in a completely new language.  Often I find myself getting flustered and frustrated with myself.  My mind swims with all the options of words to say and I often sound clumsy speaking.  French is such a beautiful, melodic, and fluid language, so when I miss the right word or pronunciation, EVERYONE knows it!  So, the time here is a humbling one.  And this, I believe has been the most essential thing.  I guess, as we age, we think we command a certain bit of knowledge and feel as though we know most everything that needs to be understood.  The last four days have revealed to me the great need for learning toujours, always.  In spirit and mind, I feel like a child and, though surrounded primarily by folk between the ages of 18-23, that is the manner in which I must live here in the unknown.

*

Today, I have class from 8:30 a.m. until 7: 30 p.m with no breaks, I promise to post tomorrow.  Je desole et merci beaucoup.  A tout a l'heure!

A thought

"... Afin que les grandes personnes poissant comprendre ... "

Le Petit Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"... in order for important, grand people to understand ..."

Grand Person 

Reading through A Little Prince, Exupery expresses a sense of what is important to know.  In our lives, we perhaps share a sense of what should be known by tout le monde all the world.  Yet, much of what we discuss and know is that which one can read, express, write, and comprehend in words, words that are considered, spoken, written, or heard.  Though there is another manner in and through which we people come to know.  Pulling away the many layers of history, study, and expertise, the many years of grand appearance known, we all remain human beings who, in a different place and speaking in a mysterious and beautiful tongue, are grandly unknowing and beginning toujours always. 

A hope

Thank for your continued grace and prayers.  A couple of unbloggable kinks are slowly being worked out.  I give thanks for your precious intercessions. 

*

Have patience with me please as I try and figure out how to post pictures on the blog. I posted one and than had problems getting the rest to post. So, prayerfully, pictures are on their way.

Le troisieme jour, Mardi 1, Juillet 2008

L'ecole francaise

A word

Today was the first day of class.  The beginning of the day was rushed as I am still figuring out the metro system.  As far as that goes, I will soon be quite good as our homestay requires 4 different exchanges with three separate modes of transport: tram, train, and metro.  My dear uncle gave me a short prep class over the phone just before leaving.  And, of course, the real test is in the actual practice.  This morning, Kashia, my housemate from Poland, and I ran the whole way, from exchange to exchange, and still ended up being 10 minutes late to class.  Incroyable!  Unbelievable that a teacher might be late!  Yet, there I was, late, heart pounding, and completey embarassed.  As I entered, I said "Avoir grace.  Je suis desole." The instructor explained, en francais, that she did not understand the word "grace."  So, I explained, as clearly as I could, "grace." "Ah!" she responded.  "Pitie."  So, I restated the humble request, "Avoir pitie pour moi."  Have pity/mercy/grace for me.  So, she smiled and welcomed my belated presence.

The testing was very accurate as I am in a class with others of very similar ability.  For the first time, at 35 years old, I feel like I am not feeling behind in the class while others rapidly speak french and I become all the more nervous and silent.  I found today that language class was engaging and inspiring.  Also, studying a foreign language really is a practice in the art of listening.  So many times, I find, that I do not practice good and able listening.  So, I must be absolutely intentional about coaching myself in the spirit of and into the practice of listening.  With care, patience, and discipline, this time of study will certainly stretch and challenge me.

As class composed most of the day, I grabbed a quick salade at the supermarche and returned to school to check e-mails and post to the blog.  I am enjoying so much keeping in touch with you all and relish very much your kind notes and words of courage.  Merci beaucoup.  I am not sure how to post back to persons individually, but I have posted return responses for each particular day.  Encore, merci beaucoup for your kindness.

A thought

"l'ouvert monde"

The open world

Thomas Merton writes of a world that is wholly transparent or open.   Also, he illustrates that this world is open always to the divine, to God's presence abiding in all things: people, places, relationships, nature, events, etc.  The problem, he explains, is that we have not the eyes to see this world's openness.  Yet, there the world remains, open and burgeoning with people, places, relationships, events, moments in and through which we might all walk or pass through an opening/ a portal/ a gateway to "heaven."  Heaven, in my understanding, is this kind of boarder, an open place, a liminal country, like the edge of the horizon that appears to be an end, but really is a beginning.  

I met a young man yesterday who is a young 20 years who speaks fluent english, french, and spanish.  We sat at a table together in the student lounge as he lunched on McDonald's.  We began to talk and I, so impressed with his language abilities, asked whether he might be studying medicine as to travel the world and attend to the physical needs of humanity.  "No, not at all."  So, I replied, in imperfect french, "What do you wish to become?"  "Film" was his answer.  He was an American student with the ability to speak three languages and his passion was film.  Of course, being a film lover myself, I understood this love completely and so our continuing conversation carried on with the vast capacity that is film's being and capacity.

As I initially considered this new friend, I had all these expectations, projections, and idealizations wrapped up in my understanding of him.  Yet, as I made myself present to this place that, this person who was far more than an end, I came to see clearly that within him, the broad land stretched far beyond the place where I stood.  This young person, as with each person, is a place from which the span of land before us ever expresses itself unknown and new.  

A hope

Continue to remember me in your prayers and good thoughts.  You, of course, abide in mine.