une situation

"I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life.” I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

— Maya Angelou

Japon in Paris

Remember this time last year when my trip to Japon was suddenly and unexpectdedly cancelled? And remember how I immediately resorted to a Plan B to go to Paris instead? (you probably don't remember, but trust me, this is what happened) Well this post has nothing to do with that, or maybe it does?

Yesterday I treated myself to a Japonais massage on the Isle Saint Louis in Paris. I wasn't expecting to, but I passed this little gem of a place on my walk home. As I stopped in front of the window admiring the traditional and simplistic Japonais decor I was met with a smile from the man behind the counter inside. Not seeing a lot of smiling lately, I immediately went inside.

The smell of brown rice green tea, soft Japonais musique playing, and Emanuel (the man with the kind smile) made me think that I had FINALLY found my people.

I inquired about prices, techniques, massage styles and scheduling. Next thing you know, I had signed up for the next massage opening an hour later. With an hour to kill and a hungry stomach, it was recommended that I go to a "fantastique" Italian restaurant for a light meal. Done and Done.

When I returned, I didn't know what to expect for so many reasons. Had I planned to receive a Japonais massage in the states I would have had some wonder, sure. But in French? In a country who is not know for its healing arts? With a Japonaise masseuse who only speaks Japonais and French? Perhaps for the first time in my massage-getting journey, I was void of any expectations/demands at all.

Yuka was my masseuse and she smiled more in that hour and a half than I had experienced in the past three months. Ahhh! Normally I would be very vocal during a massage, pointing out troubled areas, asking for more pressure here and working out tension there. This is probably because of my belief that it must hurt a little in order to be "productive".

I see this belief rearing its head in all aspects of my life, with my work, with my French learning, with my exercise regime, etc. Yet, during this massage I allowed it to just be, in all of its gentle and soft goodness. Lo and behold, what do you know? I found it to be more "productive" and effective in ways that I couldn't have foreseen.

I was surrounded by gentleness.
I felt safe.
I was relaxed.
I was able to reflect.
I was able to let go.
I was happily enjoying a day of solitude.
I was able to marinade in the energy of my self-created perfect day.

When's the last time I reaped these benefits from some hard and maybe even a little painful pressure?

Exactly.

Février: les cinq premiers

Wow. Hard to believe that I have been in Paris for two months already, The time is certainly flying. I still wake up every single day and pinch myself. Here is a small sampling of the Parisian experiences that made me smile during the cold month of Février:

1. Finding the perfect running trails through the Luxemborg Gardens.

And proof that Parisians are beginning to warm up to the whole exercise thing.

2. A VIP view of spring unfolding, which serves as a beautiful reminder that things always get brighter. (Hence the reason why spring follows winter.)

3. Realizing that Parisians have their priorities straight as evidenced by this Marais wine shop's window display. Just the essentials.

Later that same day I stumbled upon a perfect by-the-glass trifecta, at Le Baron Rouge, of 2006 Gaillac, Pinot Noir d' Alsace 2009 and Malbec for a grand total of 9 euros. As the good lord intended.

4. Free French classes at the Marie 5eme (a mere 3 second walk from my apartment)  filled with beautiful women from China, Venezuela, Vietnam, and the Netherlands. And lead by Veronique our lovely French instructor. (sorry no photo, you'll just have to take my word for it, they are all beautiful physically as well as energetically).

5. Oh and the shopping discoveries...

The final days of the Winter Soldes means extra % off already steep discounts. I found the last pair in my size of men's oxfords that I had been eyeing since I arrived.

The bonus was that French women don't "understand"  AllSaints Spitalfield (perhaps that is because dresses typically have four arm holes)  which means that I had the place all to myself. I was even able to find a spacious dressing room that I could comfortably try on all of my AllSaints finds. This is a true surprise as the Soldes typically draw crowds at the major shopping destinations like you wouldn't believe, which means dressing rooms are usually out of the question.

Only to be outdone by the scores I found later at the corner Pharmacie.  

Klorane oatmeal dry shampoo (I can now go an obscene amount of days between shampoos, pure bliss!), Avibon (full of Vitamin A and apparently it will keep my face, feet and hands young, soft, and blemish/wrinkle free), Homeplasmine (for dry, winter-ravaged skin), Vitamine C (because who couldn't use an extra boost of Vitamin C?), and OPI nail strengthener (since I haven't found a manicurist that I can effectively communicate with).

Here's to finding the pinch-worthiness in every day!

des conseils

Des Conseils (Fr.)/ Advice (Eng.) noun: opinion about what could or should be done in a situation or problem.

"Any advice that doesn't feel liberating is wrong. Ignore it."
- Martha Beck

Foudre

Foudre (Fr.)/ lightning (Eng.) (noun)

• the flashing of light produced by a discharge of atmospheric electricity; the discharge itself
• a sudden stroke of fortune

In the Joan Rivers' documentary "A Piece of Work", agent/manager Larry Thompson has a wonderful way of phrasing Ms. Rivers’ staying power when he says: “To get hit by lightning, you have to stand out in the rain, often for a very long time.”

I recently shared news with a friend of mine of a new venture that I am beginning . Her reaction was exactly what I had feared, it implied that I am never satisfied with any one thing. In a nutshell, she had a hard time understanding why I would begin something new, yet again. Why am I always embarking on something new, working so hard towards new goals, rather than relaxing and finding solace in my current situation? She reminded me that my current situation was the pursuit of a new venture not that long ago. She attempted to give me a proverbial shoulder shaking when she asked, "Darling, you must stop and ask yourself, what is your real life's dream?". My response, "I am living it. I have many dreams within this dream."

Perhaps I will stop pursuing my soul's ventures and settled into something permanent when I have a clear signal that it is time to do just that. Lightning seems like a clear enough sign.

l'obscurité

image from Kim Gordon's exhibition at No6

l'obscurité (Fr.): obscurity (Eng.): Noun

• The absence of light; darkness. 
• The quality or condition of being unknown. 
• The quality or condition of being imperfectly known or difficult to understand.

When you are in between languages, it is hard to be truly understood. I don't know enough French to be able to explain nuances or provide context for many of my thoughts. So I find that when I say something it is taken at face value, as a definitive statement. (like the time I replied "oui" to my ex-boyfriend's marriage proposal when I really meant "peut-être") Or I have to go on and on and on about something in order to make sure that it's intended message is accurately delivered, which is nearly impossible due to my limited French.

This has resulted in me being more cautious with speaking, to choose my words wisely, and to listen more than I speak.

In Buddhism, they have something they call right speech-- the way in which the practitioner chooses their words in order to abstain from lying, using abusive or divisive speech, and idle chatter. I try to abide by those rules even in my native tongue (with varying degrees of success in the idle chatter department), yet now it has forced me to say only what is absolutely necessary in order to communicate a thought.

Although at times it can be rather uncomfortable, it really isn't a bad way to be. I am learning a great deal about myself in this process.

Bardo

Bardo (noun): Tibetan Buddhism refers to Bardo as the state of the soul between its death and its rebirth.

I am reading a great book right now, Care of the Soul by Thomas Moore. I am really digging this book, not just because he is talking about my favorite subject, the soul, but because he references Greek mythology which I used to be obsessed with when I was younger. And like a breath of fresh air, he also has introduced me to many new concepts, such as alchemy for the soul, homeopathic treatment for certain emotions, and now Bardo.

The Tibetan Book of the Dead describes Bardo as that time in between incarnations, the period before birth into life. Moore says that "Bardo takes time; it can't be rushed. There's no point in premature birth."

Currently I know how to speak enough French to get by, but as I am uncovering in my day to day interactions, not enough to live fully; to express the nuances of my thoughts, to provide context to an otherwise short, definitive answer. In my previous time in France, my French has never slowed me down, and now that I am living in France, it seems to have done just that. I wonder if this is just a symptom of my own personal Bardo state?

In talking to my mother today, I mentioned how I will attempt to enroll in the arrondissement French course tomorrow. It is an "attempt" because the course began five months ago, so I would be requesting that they make an exception and allow me to jump in mid stream. And if this doesn't work then I will find a professional tutor (not the casual tutoring that my friends supply over wine). My mom's reply was "Good for you. I love how you always move forward." (ah, thanks Mom)

So perhaps a Bardo state is really just another term for the birth canal. And what choice does a baby really have, but to move forward? Eventually.