(Had no pictures of a camel… this is a pigeon instead)

I woke up this morning thinking about this story. It’s from the German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche and tells about the three transformations of man. I’m going to paraphrase…

In childhood we are a camel. The camel must get down on his knees and accept the heavy load placed on his back. The camel has to practice obedience, he must patiently receive the instructions and the information from society (parents, teachers, peers) in order to live a responsible life.

(No dragons either… this is a gargoyle on a church in Paris)

When the camel is fully loaded, it struggles to its feet and runs out into the desert…… where it is transformed into a lion. A powerful lion, and his power is directly related to the load that was carried by the camel. So the heavier the load the camel carried…. the more powerful the lion. This is the stage of the youth or teenager.

(A blow-up masked man hanging out a window at the Louvre)

The task of the lion is to kill a particular dragon, The Thou Shalt Dragon. On every scale of this very scaly dragon, the words “thou shalt” are imprinted. There’s…Thou shalt be good, Thou shalt pay taxes, Thou shalt be humble, Thou shalt recycle, Thou shalt be well read, Thou shalt make something of yourself, Thou shalt fit in. Some of these thou shalt’s are from four thousand years ago, others from this morning’s newspaper.

(Denis indulging his inner child)

The camel has to submit to the thou shalt ‘s, but the lion (the teenager) has to throw them off and come to his own realisation. Then when the dragon is completely dead and all its thou shalt‘s overcome, the lion is transformed into a child living it’s own truths. No more rules to obey, except it’s own. No more rules derived from the historical needs and tasks of the local society, but….. “the pure impulse to living…. of a life in flower.”

I love this story, Mairead.

(Paris in December)

In case you didn’t know… it’s almost impossible to write when you rush it. Until I sat here thirty minutes ago to write this I didn’t recognise that I was rushing… but I am. So, I could sit here for another hour in this hurry up attitude or I could slow everything down. It’s hard to understand my resistance to slowing everything down.

(What’s for dinner?)

It’s Christmas I’m in a hurry, I can’t be slowing down, I have things to do, places to go, people to meet, appointments to keep, dinner to cook, I’m responsible, in charge, in control, in a panic (when will I ever get to the point?) Maybe I should be speeding up? I read once about a way to stop blushing…. as soon as the blushing starts you concentrate on making yourself blush more and it does work. It doesn’t work for writing though.

Right so, an hour has passed and I’m still not making a point, maybe tomorrow will be better, Mairead.

(Reflections)

There is a man sitting on a step under the window of our cafe. He smiles at everyone who passes, some smile back. Beside him is a wheelie bag, the kind my mother takes to SuperValu to do her shopping. The man is probably my age although he looks older. Just now a woman passing gave him two cigarettes and he is smoking one. Earlier he waved at the assistant in the housewares shop across the road and the assistant waved back.

(Here comes the sun)

He seems content and he’s definitely making a positive impact on the people who see him. He probably doesn’t have much money. He may not know where he will spend tonight or tomorrow night. He may be cold. He may be hungry. He may not have a lot of friends. He may be lonely. He may be tired. But he doesn’t look worried or busy. He looks kinda happy.

(Peek inside someone else’s life…)

I’m thinking of that man today as I rush about with little jobs to fill my fridge, my diary, my head. As I worry if I’ll have enough time to do everything for the big day. Will I get to post the cards? Ring the aunts? Clean the bathroom? Will there be enough food? Will there be enough chocolate? As I make lists and lists and rush from one appointment to the next, am I any better off than the man sitting under the window of the cafe?

With all my worldly goods and comfort am I any happier than him? Mairead.

(Heart Art)

So yesterday I was telling you about my idea to hold a workshop in a small town in the Loire. Today it’s about the workshop. The Dream Reality Workshop – Making your dream a reality even if you don’t know what you want!

For years I thought I didn’t know what I wanted. I wandered from bookshop to internet to personal development course wondering if I would ever find out. But I needn’t have wondered. I was already doing what I wanted – reading books, getting information, attending courses. When I look back on that time I was doing exactly what I needed to do to become what I was becoming. I was putting in time in the 10,000 hours university.

(Another beautiful building in the Marais)

There’s a book called Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. In it he describes how experts in one particular area or another all share the phenomenon of having spent 10,000 hours working in their chosen field. Gladwell includes lots of stories. My favourite one is about the Beatles.

Back in 1957, when they were starting out, the Beatles got an opportunity to play in a club in Hamburg, Germany. They weren’t very good, but no one complained, no one was listening…. they were playing in a strip club. The band was in training. By the time they had become famous in the early sixties they had performed live twelve hundred times. This training set the Beatles apart.

(So much dedication to beauty)

The Beatles didn’t go to Hamburg for the training. They didn’t have a world domination plan. They went because they loved to play. Ok you may not want to be an expert but… to be good at what you love, keep doing what you want to be doing and do it for hours and hours and hours and… easy! Well…… for most people it’s not easy at all and that’s what this workshop is all about.

More tomorrow, Mairead.

PS. Apologies, comments are not working at the moment –  technical difficulties.

(Early morning view from our window….. well, it was 9.30am)

Oh my goodness, I am so cold! The weather is beautiful here in Paris, very autumnal, more like October than December. The sun is shining and it is dry. Why am I cold? Well, we were passing a beautiful old building when Denis (very excited) noticed a sign for “Une histoire du jeu video” (that might not be the spelling, but it means the history of video games). Denis loves video games. So we went in through the metal detector and got our bags searched. But we were in the wrong place… with directions from the ticket man we found the right place. There was a queue. But the good news was we were at the top of the queue… or so we thought….

(Our metro station)

We waited…… Denis read his book and I watched the rather handsome security guards greet each other. Each time a new one would arrive there were handshakes and big smiles. By the time an hour had passed they had stopped smiling and begun dealing with the irate “sans billet” crowd.

There were two queues… one for the reserved tickets and one for those “sans billet” (without tickets). Us. Those in the reserved queue were allowed in at noon, but when their queue was empty it was still not our turn. We waited…..

(The video games exhibition… including the handsome security guards)

A further half hour later we got inside. I went directly to the coffee shop to write this and wait for Denis, but…. there was no coffee shop! We’re in Paris, it’s twelve thirty and there’s no coffee shop, 😦 sad me. So I spent five minutes walking through the exhibition, (the history of video games is short) looking for a nice comfy sofa. There are no comfy sofas… but I did find a nice wooden box, and I am writing from there. The exhibition is full of video games from the past thirty-five years. Even though I do not like video games, I think I know every one of them. When we first met, back in the 70’s, Denis’s idea of a Saturday in the city included a visit to every video arcade (for those under thirty – the video arcade was the only place you could play computer games). Back then I was neither patient nor supportive of his interest.

Coffee and desert)

Today, I am being an incredibly supportive and patient companion and I have stood for all this time in two degree temperatures. Behind us the french gentleman was not so lucky with his companion. She was very annoyed (I was reading the body language and empathising). About two minutes before the gate opened both of them stormed off. I felt a bit sad for him but very happy to get out of the cold.

Next time I’m going to find a nice comfy sofa first, and let someone else queue, Mairead.

(Rusty Hearts)

On the last weekend of my course my tutor said something nice to each of her students. She told me I was unique…. And of course we are all unique. We can’t fit into a normal, correct mould, but we often try. Well, I try a lot. I hear what someone else is doing and I think “why can’t I do… ?” I look at a successful relation or friend and wonder “why didn’t I do… ?”

(Peeling Paint)

And then I wake up and remember, I’m unique, I can only do things my way…. Today was one of those “why can’t I?” and “why didn’t I?” days. I woke up when I read the quote: Every thought you produce, anything you say, any action you do, it bears your signature. – Thich Nhat Hanh Buddhist monk author and teacher.

(Christmas Decoration)

To me it means that even the smallest thing I do is my uniqueness added to the world. Even one foot placed in front of the other. Even if that’s all I do today then I have written my signature here in the world…. and that’s success.

With every breath you write your signature, Mairead.