Through other eyes

Door at Notre Dame

There's an Alexander Technique concept that illuminates our tendency to misinterpret our perceptions. We may believe we think we know what's going on, but really we're just limited to perceiving what we already believe. An outsider, having different beliefs, can often see things differently. The real work is in allowing ourselves to see through another's eyes; to deliberately suspend belief in our own perception, to test if maybe another interpretation is available -- so we have more choices.

Exterior at Notre Dame

I've been attempting on a daily basis to find things to think positively about (and too often failing miserably). But I was heartened to notice that although I personally have been feeling run over by the enormity of Paris, its noise and intensity and hordes of people leaving me drained and despairing, I managed to hang out last night with someone who is thrilled to be here. It was worth the tired feet - ! - to see the city at night, to hear stories and enthusiasm about the hidden passages, the gatherings of friends by water and wine, the history and architecture, the beauty and romance of the city on a perfect spring evening.

Notre Dame at night

So even though what has me really happy right now is the prospect of leaving as soon as possible for the countryside, I'm thankful I got a good dose of appreciation for majestic Paree. I take it as evidence that something's going right if, even though I'm feeling doubtful about finding satisfaction and enjoyment in my surroundings, at least I can be around someone else who does! So thank you, Kent, for sharing your adoration of Paris. It gives me faith that I will soon be as content and challenged in equal measure as you are :-)

Jardin de Tour Saint Jacques

I had many reasons for coming here; to have time and space alone, to eat gloriously decadent food, to assert my ability to navigate a major metropolis in French, no less!, and to connect with my family's history. Success all around. The time alone has highlighted all those patterns I hold so dear -- ripening them for release; eating all the bread and sweets has me feeling like crap; and I'm not afraid to walk or take the metro anywhere. I am chagrined to confess that I didn't connect with my distant relatives before coming to France. Naively, I just assumed they'd continue to be where they've always been whenever they've called or written. But now it appears the phone numbers I have don't work, and astonishingly enough, they are not online. I admit I have no intentions of scouring the countryside looking for them. I hope they, and my grandmother - whose hometown I am neglecting to visit - will forgive me. This trip is evolving in other directions.

My great-great-grandparents marriage certificate: 1853

Eglise de Saint Nicholas-du-Chardonnet

I did pay a visit to the church where my great-great-grandparents were married in 1853. I even wandered unwittingly past both their family homes (they lived around the corner from each other!). And on the walk there, I passed an older man whose smiling eyes gave me a flash of my father's eyes. I felt a little tender all afternoon.

Of the soaring vault of Notre Dame, my favorite part was the stars painted on the chapel ceiling. Soon I'll be seeing the real thing.

Starry skies at Notre Dame

 

Posted with Blogsy