17 October 2012
Quels dix jours fantastiques! Je me suis bien intégrée dans mon école. Chaque matin, je marche (ou prends le métro) de mon appartement Rue de la Paix à Rue Montmartre. J'ai rencontré d'autres étudiantes dans ma classe qui sont devenues des amies.
Je suis allée à l'opéra et à un concert de musique classique. En plus, j'ai rencontré des amies australiennes et j'ai visité de bonnes expositions. Je vais vous expliquer pourquoi une de ces expos m'a touché et m'a évoqué un sentiment de familiarité. Elle s'appelle ''Bohèmes - le roman de la liberté". Selon la conservatrice de cette expo "les mythes forgés par ces mots (bohèmes, Bohémiens) font, en effet, partie de notre identité collective, de notre rapport à l'altérité, de nos imaginaires."
L'expo retrace l'histoire de la vie bohémienne de jadis jusqu'à de nos jours. Il y a un thème qui se répète dans toute l'expo: la route, le parcours, toujours l'idée du mouvement. Voici un poème de l'expo (par Saban Iliaz), qui j'ai trouvé très émouvant.
LA LONGUE ROUTE
Nous avons pris une route dans la nuit
Sans savoir où elle pouvait mener
Laissant derrière nous un grand pays
Nous avons commencé notre parcours de peine.
Nous nous sommes égarés sur des sentiers
Pourtant nos lourdes charges
Nous avons enterré nos morts le long de la route
Dans les fôrets nos pères ont vielli.
Au milieu de l'endroit le plus sombre
Nous nous sommes posés pour souffler
Arrêtés pour reprendre les esprits
Assis là, nous nous sommes endormis.
Ni pain à manger, ni eau à boire
Aucune croûte n'a touché nos lèvres
Au petit matin nous nous sommes relevés
Pour reprendre la longue route.
In English then to finish this post. Having taken the concept of journeys, of travel, of search as the theme for my blog, it was fascinating to see exactly the same theme repeated throughout the ages. For those who take to the road, it's not an easy decision, nor one taken lightly. It's not always about escaping from something horrible, but knowing that the easy way is not always the most meaningful.
I've always been attracted to the "romance" of the bohemian way of life. With a little more hindsight, there is certainly an allure, a fascination, an obsession with living somewhat outside the strict rules and disciplines of mainstream society. But romantic, soft and fluffy? Not really.
In closing, let me quote Vincent Van Gogh (pourquoi pas?) ". . . it always seems to me that I'm a traveller who's going somewhere and to a destination. If I say to myself, the somewhere, the destination does not exist at all, that seems well-argued and truthful to me." Well said, Vincent.
05 October 2012
Flights, accommodation, French school are all booked. The domestic things are almost under control. I've changed my hair, well the colour at least. Isn't that what we do when things get tough?
Some time ago I read a fascinating book titled 'If you meet the buddha on the road, kill him!' Certainly a rather dramatic and provocative title that seems at odds with the peaceful nature of the buddhist religion.
Written by psychotherapist, Sheldon B Kopp, the book is about the spiritual journeys, the personal quests, the pilgrimages we make through life. It's about what drives us to make these journeys and what we seek: enlightenment, peace, joy, or something that we're not even sure about.
In every journey, there is a desire to do, to learn. And, the author explains, in our wishing to learn, we often confuse being taught, with learning. In doing so, we seek out helpers, healers, guides and teachers. We want to become their disciples, their students.
Kopp goes onto say that crises marked by anxiety, doubt and despair have always been those periods of personal unrest that occur at the times when we are sufficiently unsettled to have an opportunity for personal growth. In feeling uneasy, this is our chance to make a growth choice, rather than a fear choice. Nicely put.
But what about the buddha? Well, this is where the idea of the religious pilgrimages has its counterpoint in modern spiritual or personal growth journeys. Once one accepts that to learn means to let go of dependance on others to teach us; to recognise that our power comes from within, not from others; and that to be a grown-up, means not being a disciple or an acolyte - then we start to truly grow from within. Too often we seek out our modern pilgrimages, whether literal or metaphorical, from a starting point of pain and turmoil. How tempting to seek the support of a 'guru', a buddha if you like to 'make everything better again'. Someone to depend on, rather than taking personal responsibility. So, if you encounter such a buddha along the way . . . well, you know what you have to do.
Hopefully my physical and emotional journeys in the coming weeks will be 'buddha-free'. Not easy, perhaps difficult, often exhausting. Another beginning, and perhaps many more beginnings to come. Let me just get started.
01 October 2012
Tonight I decided to change my travel plans. No longer will I be going to Jordan. For reasons I still can't quite fathom myself, and despite all of the things I wanted to do there, I've cancelled my visit. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but believe me it was.
I know I've made the right decision for me. But that doesn't explain why it's so damned hard and why I feel like a piece of me has been lost.
No doubt others are confused or hurt by my decision. I can only say I'm deeply sorry to have let you down at such short notice. But it would have been much, much worse to have kept going, feeling that I was doing the wrong thing by me.
Others, my friends, my family are more than supportive. They believe I've done the right thing. I will now rebuild my holiday plans. As one person said to me today "Who knows . . . there may be a good reason for this happening . . . something special is waiting for you out there . . ."
Now, that's worth believing in. And believing in myself.