Anis et Flore

Un petit gars est né
Quelques minutes avant sa soeur
Mais c'est elle qui s'éveille et
Vient goûter au sein gonflé

Deux poids plumes
Aux lèvres délicatement dessinées
Deux petites frimousses tour à tour
Relaxées puis renfrognées
Quatre yeux grand ouverts
Puis refermés
Des petits doigts si fragiles
Encore tous frippés

Frère et soeur
Deux petites beautés
Venant chambouler
La vie de leur grande soeur
De deux ans leur aînée

N. & B.
Félicitations et grand bonheur à vous cinq!

Christmas Spirit

The last 24h have been a bit of a whirlwind of activities, sounds, connecting with people, making, chatting, laughing at jokes, eating... a lot happening outside and not much inner space.

Christmas' eve last night at 16 parents, siblings, in-laws, nephews and nieces, cousins and aunt
Christmas lunch today at 22, i.e. more siblings, in-laws and nieces

This Christmas spirit has left me tired and in need to retire and recharge my batteries... I feel that I have given an enormous amount of energy, shared a big part of myself - too big a part??? Not seeing them all very often, because I dance the 5Rhythms and because I am more than willing to talk about the kind of workshops I treat myself with, they ask questions of all sorts that are not always easy to answer. This year, I believe for the first time, I have had the chance to see and accept without guilt that I needed some inner space away from everyone else for a short while. And most importantly and most grateful for it, I have allowed myself to take this time away: I stop, sit down and write these words.

They helped me much for it as they all disappeared for an hour or so to an exhibition in town that I'd been to a couple of days ago. The silence, the music by Gabrielle Roth on the sound system, the returning home within... made me realise that I usually dive into the family energy and give without counting, without noticing... Can I call it giving? Maybe not. It may be more a matter of leaking away energy because I am not conscious of my needs.

And so I had gone from my body but I am pleased that this time it didn't take me another workshop, another psychotherapy session, another major crisis and many tears to find out and to re-discover the roots and anchor of my true being. This time, a few minutes of quietness, of having retired, of being alone and of checking inside what my needs are have allowed the feelings of being worthy and deeply engaged with myself to resurface. And the fact that this has happened in the family house is a gigantic and leap! It feels wonderful!!

I know I will give more in a minute as they have now come back but I have had this time for myself to check in, to thank myself... I am proud, I am pleased... I know there will be more allowing to happen to be able to remain in touch with my needs "at all times" and even in these big family reunions, but I can see this happening in the future.

-------------------------------

I went back to the buzzing energy of the group and sat down by the fire. One of my nephew, usually rather shy came to cuddled on my lap. It was a wonderful feeling of love and quiet. He stayed there for a long while and I loved every second of it as peace lingered on for a little longer... Thank you J.

Thank you

Yes, a big thank you to you(s) who sent me good wishes when I asked, whether by leaving messaging or otherwise...
The year of the sun 2007 is now over and the new year has started... I'm looking forward to the next last days of 2007 and i am certainly excited about 2008 showing up very soon...

Merry Christmas to each and everyone of you if I don't come back to write before that...

Ultimately, the only power to which man should aspire is that which he exercises over himself

Elie Wiesel (1928- )

wish me luck

I'm wishing myself good luck tonight.
If you happen to pass by or if you've just stumbled upon my blog tonight, please take a short while to wish me goodluck from your heart. Even if you don't know why!!

Thank you ;-)

so many gifts

I'm afraid there's not much more than my sorrow and mourning at the moment in the words I want to lay on the screen... you'll have to forgive me - or come back in a few days, a few weeks or a few months... I have no idea how long it will last!

Bonne mam' has given us many gifts and coming to brittany just a few days before the winter solstice, when the world stop for a few days before rising toward spring again, is certainly one of them; after a 6hours drive, we were greeted in the middle of the night by a sky bathed with stars with no moon, and that is certainly one of them; a sharp and clear, sunny day without a single pinch of wind is certainly one of them...


But her most wonderful gift has been - for me at least - to depart from this world as we had planned to meet (my parents and siblings) to celebrate my sister's 40th birthday. It was the first time we were to gather all together in more than 2years... what a way to say a common farewell before the funeral?

I have spent 5 days within the family core and this has been a real gift for me too. Being voluntarily expatriated, I have touched the importance of the close ties that unite me to my brothers and sisters and their spouses, to my parents and to my nieces and nephews, to my uncles and aunts and some of my cousins... The sharing has been intense...

I have come back home to London a slightly different person, as I have experienced (for the first time?) that I have my place in the family circle. I have sensed and accepted that others can love me and I have allowed (for the first time?) this love to penetrate me... sweet pain there...

I'm now back in london after many miles, many tears, smiles and laughs, many hugs given and received, many looks shared, many words spoken and heards, many thank yous... and this all feel as only the beginning, with more tears to come, more smiles and laughs to come, more hugs to come, more shared looks and words to come, more thank yous to come...

Bonne-maman

Thursday 6th Decembre, sometime close to 6pm, she let out her last breath to never take a new one in. She threw the towel, after close to 96 years...

Not a Saint, not the perfect wife, mother, grand-mother, sister or woman, she has been instrumental in shaping who I have become, in my early years. And it is only these last few years that I have come to know and recognise this.
I know how lucky I am that she was still here in flesh and blood as well as in her right mind, as I have come very close to her. She has asked me many questions about my recent life and I like to think that she knew me more than many people I see everyday... I know she couldn't grasp entirely what my constant questions and my self-discovery journey are about, but she tried, again and again and again... and I am ever thankful to her for it.

I witnessed her go slowly with dignity, and love and gratitude for people that surrounded her. I know how pleased she was to see me and I know how important it has been for me to be present physically as often as I could. Her departure is obviously hard, but I have had time over the last few months to accept the love she gave me and to give her my love consciously. Somehow I feel at peace.

Bonne-maman, thank you.

farewell bonne-maman/bonne-mimi

j'ai peur d'oublier
ce dernier baiser déposé si doucement sur tes joues creusées

il n'y aura plus
ce sourire qui m'étais destiné quand j'entrais dans ta chambre
ces après-midis silencieux passés à tes côtés
ta main frêle dans la mienne et que j'avais peur de casser

Bon vent!

space clearing - Feng shui

my friend Sue from Feng Shui Fire Horse will be coming to my flat in less that two weeks time to clear the space energetically. Of what I understand - and expect? - the energy of the previous owners, who'd been living here for years and as a family for the last 3, will be released and sent back to its own home. Then my own imprint will be able to be made... I expect that this flat will become mine, for real!!


and so she sent me some homework to do before we start. she said "you've got to prepare yourself and the flat. otherwise it's a bit as if you're getting married but don't make preparation for it". I liked the analogy. Part of that homework was to clear clutter... I came back on Sunday night and went through ALL my clothes. Pile "needs to go", pile "needs to be thrown away", pile "that stays", pile "don't know yet"... Two big bags have gone to charity shops and probably another two before the end of the week!! It felt real good to get up in the morning, knowing I'd done the right thing.

almost three months since I've moved in and things move slowly. I enjoy it that way, though as I cherish every single small change and transformation taking place.

A meme

I swiped this "meme" from Mich who swiped it from Boho, who swiped it from daisies.

1. Do you own a gun? are you kidding me?.
2. What do you think of hot dogs? Great just coming out of a club at 3.30am when dinner is way too far and it's freezing cold outside... get the onions in, too!!
   
3. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Ricoré - only French drink this as it's "l'ami du petit déjeuner..." - 20 years old TV add... sorry!
   
4. Can you do push-ups? could do, no longer interested
   
5. What’s your favourite piece of jewellery? Depends which day you're talking about...
   
6. What is your secret weapon to lure the opposite sex? my boobs - not so secret though
   
7. Middle name? none
8. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
   1~ it's really getting late and I'm knackered
   2~ i want a hot chocolate before going to bed
   3~ i'm looking forward to wednesday night
   
9. What time did you wake up today? 7.00am
10. Current hate? ???
    
11. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
    ~ peppermint tea
    ~ ricoré (again!)
    ~ water
    
12. Do you own slippers? nope but thinking about it as winter is coming in
    
13. What shirt are you wearing? comfi clothes and thick socks
    
14. Do you burn or tan? burn then flake then burn then flake then burn then tan... always need a very long holiday!!
    
15. Favourite colour(s)? this season seems to be purple/burgundy
    
16. Would you be a pirate? i'd be scared...
    
17. What is your favourite holiday? diving in the red sea
    
18. What songs do you sing in the shower? don't - only at night when i drive so that i don't fall asleep.. but that's not the question!
    
19. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child? crocodiles from under the bed - had to make a real HUGE jump to my bed from as far as possible to trick them
    
20. What’s in your pockets right now? I don't have pockets on ...
21. Last thing that made you laugh? a genuine scientific study showing how chimps are SO MUCH better than students at memory tests... short videos on the BBC website, section Science/Nature if anyone is interested... hilarious!
    
22. Best bed sheets as a child? definitely the orange blanket - don't remember the sheets
    
23. Worst injury you’ve ever had? dislocated wrist and peritonitis - or probably the other way around
    
24. Are your parents still together? yes
25. Do you wish on shooting stars? when i see them which is rare
    
26. What is your favourite book(s)? pass...
27. What is your favourite candy? not so much into these
    
28. How is the weather outside right now? cold, and it was sunny most of the day
    
29. What was your first thought this morning when you woke up? need to get back to that dream
    

écouter mes instincts...

Qui d'entre vous ayant lu "J'aime lire" a oublié Tom-Tom et Nana? Pas un/e seul/e, j'en mettrais ma main à couper... Qui d'entre vous ne commençait pas pas les dernières pages pour découvrir leurs dernières aventures? Qui ne se souvient pas de leurs intentions de début d'année, "on rangera notre chambre", jetant tous ces jouets "on est plus des bébés" sur le trottoir dans des grandes poubelles noires... avant d'être réveillés en pleine nuit par leurs peluches et autres goldorak les suppliant et les menaçant de les reprendre? ce qu'ils font bien-sûr...

S'il en est un/e, je veux savoir...



Ce soir a été un de ces moments pour moi - me débarassant de toutes ces fringues que je n'enfile plus, qui me sortent pas les yeux... j'a l'air de quoi, pas la bonne couleur, la bonne coupe, le bon jour pour mettre ce pantalon/cette écharpe/cette veste...
depuis des semaines maintenant j'avais l'impression de ne rien avoir à me mettre alors que mes valises ouvertes à même le sol (je n'ai toujours pas de penderie...) regorgent de plus qu'il n'en faudrait pour m'habiller pendant plusieurs semaines... le déclic s'est produit ce soir: il y a des kilos de fringues que j'ai aimé, que j'ai porté, que j'ai acheté et qui sont encore comme neuves... et dont je ne veux plus!! OUT!! Je me sens plus légère de deux gros sacs pleins à donner à un charity shop...

En priant pour ne pas avoir de cauchemars cette nuit... :))

I know that I know... or have known

I've heard of people who met in different settings and different life times when their encounter or relationship of the past had not gone through a proper closure. I've even met such a person who married a man in this life who she said she'd met in her previous life, at which time they already loved each other but could not marry!

I have met C. this summer and I feel that I have met him before. I felt an extraordinary connection to this person, something very rarely experienced before, of being open, feeling safe and extremely comfortable, with loving feelings ...

If the soul of a person doesn't die with the body then where does it go? Can two souls be able to find each other again and meet?

diy... at last!

Yeesss!

After 2 and a half months of living in my flat, I've taken some time off my various activities and stayed home to make the fit-in shelves I'd been dreaming about. It took me about 7 hours today, gluing, climbing onto the step ladder, putting in place, changing idea, carrying, sawing, drilling, screwing a good number of wood pieces of numerous sizes ans weight... yes, some were very heavy indeed!

But I managed and I'm pleased not only with myself but also with the result. Not quite the dream shelves I had in my mind but I guess I'm no professional, it was the first big job I did and it turns out nicely. My arms are soo tired at the minute that I can't compemplate getting all my books out of their boxes tonight... it'll have to wait 'til tomorrow. And I'm so lazy that I can't even imagine getting up and take a pic of them to accompany my scribbling... maybe tomorrow, too... :)

a nice Saturday, though!

i'm supposed to go out tonight but I'd rather laze around with a book

no words for a change

my journey is so thick these days that I don't know where to start... maybe better not to start this time, not to try to find the words... stay in the mirkiness and muddy waters and find my way out without laying the words down on the screen... how then? checking in when fear turns the volume up: "right now I'm ok"... trusting that my body is giving me the appropriate signals through the unpleasant symptoms...

that'll be it for this time

liberté d'expression...

Vendredi soir mon intention était de retirer ce manteau que je porte depuis 36 ans, manteau épais d'hiver fait de honte et de culpabilité d'être un être humain désireux de vivre ma sensualité et sexualité, honte et culpabilité doublées du fait que je suis femme...

Depuis j'ai découvert que ce n'est sans doute pas un manteau que je porte, mais plusieurs, empilés les uns sur les autres en une masse épaisse... les manteaux des nombreuses générations de femmes de mes lignées familiales, ancêtres féminies plus ou moins proches n'ayant jamais peut-être eu l'occasion ou ressenti la nécessité de les ôter. Leurs raisons pour cela peuvent êtres variées et n'ont pas grande importance...

Samedi soir, j'ai dansé pour moi, pour ces femmes proches ou lointaines, connues et aimées ou aimantes, ou inconnues et j'ai été inondée de leurs larmes, auxquelles certainement les miennes étaient mêlées, sans être dominantes... j'ai versé nos larmes de souffrance, de répression, d'incompréhension, de jugement, de devoir, d'obligation à paraître et je sens qu'une ou plusieurs épaisseurs de manteaux se sont évaporées...

je me suis sentie lavée, vue, exister...
... assez pour trouver en moi le désir de rédiger ces quelques mots en français... pour qu'ils soient compris de vous tous, famille et amis qui me connaiss"iez" si bien mais bien différente...

je me sens exister pour de vrai...
... assez pour vous dire combien je vous aime...

for all our relations

that's the name of the workshop I've started tonight with a 4h 5Rhythms dance meditation... and tonight I really got involved in the meditation and saw the "full" spectrum of it... I gave back body parts then my entire body to the wise dancer inside myself... both overwhelming and beautiful!

my intention for this weekend is to shed a particular layer that i've been living with for 36 years: the coat of shame and guilt that surrounds being a fully sensual and sexual human being doubled/amplified with shame and guilt of being a woman... i chose to make this coat mine as a child through generations and generations of ancestors and I feel tonight that the time might be right to take it off... I'm not too sure of what I'll find underneath, what I look like as a naked woman - I am to create myself and find my own truth as I go along!!

I will be dancing with this intention for myself AND for all my relations... if you are reading these few words, I will be dancing for you, too... whether man or woman...

blessings and gratitude

thrown into the wave... yet again...

what I've been going through these last few weeks seems to become thicker and less transparent each day. The time of known direction, clear sign-posting and determined motivation has gone... and is being replaced by questions with no answers, anxiety, impatience, obsession (?), addiction (?) or compulsion (?)...

A voice within, dear voice that I have known sooo well for so many years, is getting back with a vengeance. I can keep it away and the door closed at times but it also seems that the slighest wrong doing or word that does not fit my expectations throws the new me overboard and lets the wave of judgment and harsh self-criticism unleash with great force... on board remains Clairon, with all her own addiction to please, with her longing, with the fear that drives her to conform to standards that aren't mine, without a voice and without positive agression. Instead, this agression bursts out at the wrong moments and despite myself...

I know this, I understand it, I have experienced it, but tonight it is as if I couldn't say the inner No and help the new me out of the water... I do not know what to do and as much as I don't like feeling this way can I (will I?) call upon the energy of sensuality and sexuality to help me out...

de passage à Paris

qui l'eut cru? me voici à Paris et j'écris sur mon portable - merci WiFi - d'un café proche de Montparnasse, juste de l'autre côté du boulevard Pasteur où je viens de trouver une chambre pour la nuit....


C'est une série qui continue. Une certaine incapacité à organiser mon temps (en l'occurence également celui des autres) qui perdure depuis quelques mois maintenant. Alors que je connaissais mes dates de passages dans la capitale française, je n'ai appelé les nombreux cousins/oncles/tantes qu'hier soir, et encore pas tous... pour des raisons plutôt obscures, même pour moi... alors forcément, ceux que j'ai eu étaient soit non disponibles soit absents... suis-je surprise ? pas vraiment ! Suis-je déçue ? pas beaucoup plus !
était-ce un désir unconscient de passer la soirée et la nuit seule dans un/des lieux inconnus et neutres ? peut-être car je suis finalement assez heureuse d'être là. Ambiance à la française, l'interdiction de fumer encore pas passer dans les cafés (malheureusement...), un croque-monsieur comme dîner, et sans doute un peu de programmes télé probabalement plus que moyens quand j'arriverai dans ma chambre... mais au moins ils seront français, et j'ai oublié ce que c'était !!

je suis allée voir bonne maman. je l'ai trouvée moins maigre que la dernière fois. je l'ai trouvée fragile mais surtout portant un air triste. elle a peu dormi pendant les quelques heures que j'ai passées à ses cotés, mais les mots sont restés espacés. et pourtant elle est toujours là, bien là. j'ai ressenti tellement d'amour pour cette femme rapetissée, blanchie par les années, et qui pour une raison inconnue s'accroche toujours à la vie... elle est et sera dans le premiers cercle de mes ancêtres, proche, aimante, présente... je suis tombée amoureuse de ma grand-mère cet après-midi, avec toutes ses qualités et tous ses limites...

merci bonne maman.
je t'aime.

the two faces of the same coin

when was the last time I didn't write for an entire week? loooong time ago...

these past days, maybe 3 weeks, my life has simply been turned upside down, or is it inside out? I've been living it to the full and I feel it is not over... I've been enjoying what I discover...

A. said to me "one step at a time". I couldn't agree more - in my head. Yet it's not what I'm doing. There's an intensity that I have never touched before about every moment of my life, about every situation, about every experience. I feel sometimes overwhelmed, sometimes extremely tired, sometimes taken aback and stunned "is this really me?"...

imagine a pound or a euro coin.
I've lived my "entire" life as one side of this coin: I knew every hill, crack, shade, curve of the imprint, colour, feel, even taste of it... then 3 weeks ago, "without warning" the composition of that coin suddenly changed, the density dropped and I fell as if through a trap door onto the other side - through the coin! On that side, there's no reference, no known rule, no safety mesh. On that side, everything looks wilder, more exciting, greener. Everything is to be discovered and I'm up for it. Yet deep down I also know that it is no more my truth than the other.

So what next? All I can say is that at the moment, I'm only observing, taking in, learning and I can feel some energy being released. How long this phase will last I cannot say and I have no desire for it to be short or long. I'm being swept along yet conscious of what is happening and I feel safe at my core. I feel real and I feel alive. Even if right at this minute all I want is to sleep...

to go unconscious?

disco ball

"Are you a romantic?" I asked C. the other day
"Yes, he replied, but I'm multifaceted".

I liked that answer very much...

I heard the voice of someone who knows a little (or a lot!) about himself, who's found out that there's a large spectrum of colours and shapes and moods and attitudes and feelings and emotions and that one constantly shifts from one to the next...
I heard the voice of someone who accepts and allows the changes and transformations that the Life journey brings up, however subtle or extraordinary...

I have met with C. since that question was asked and reply was given.
I felt the presence of a dark side that is not under control and allows something new, maybe unexpected, to be coming out into the light...

In his presence, I also saw the powerful lights reflected off the disco ball

Did this darkness and light belong to him or to me?

sexuality

up the legs
through the pelvis and the hips
first implosion

turning inside to the belly
past the diaphragm
moving on to the heart
second implosion

entering the lungs
swelling the breasts
pushing back the shoulders
and up to the head
third implosion

anticipation
imagination
expectation
blessing

gratefulness
nervousness
lightness
joy

creativity
sensuality
sexuality
life

Agression cont'ed

exhaustion
not because I don't sleep enough
nor because my days fill up quickly

numbness
this shadow of stillness I know only too well
i dive escape and finally drown

victimisation
as i dare not look at others in the eye
and have given myself away

possessed
as i think highly of myself
and so should everyone else!

close the taps
stop the leaks
open the doors
ask for help
stand in the storms
expect the unexpected
stay in darkness as long as needed
welcome the many deaths
recognise the births

allow the rising agression
even (particularly if) in sexual energy form
...

exhaustion can go
numbness becomes still
victim turns to spiritual warrior
possessed gets no more hook

les entrailles de la vie

elle monte par vague

enveloppe tout de son épais manteau
fait fi de toute aspérité avec facilité
s'infiltre dans la moindre fissure
rien ne l'arrête
les barrages vieillissent
les portes s'entr'ouvrent
elle pénêtre puis s'évade
m'emportant avec elle
dans des méandres souterrains
inconnus et sombres
sans interrupteur ni bougie


l'électricité est palpable
glissant d'un pôle à l'autre
je découvre un compagnon
ou non
je suis enterrée et vivante
le reste du monde disparaît
pendant que je recharge mes batteries
écartelée par cette énergie
que l'on n'ose pas nommer
qu'il se faut d'oublier et d'enfermer

sexualité

Agression

anger, energy, drive, desire, determination, motivation...

I can't come to term with mine and so
I see it in others
I flee when it's sent back at me
time and again I have escaped
time and again I've come into hiding

tonight
these simple words punched me in the chest
sheared across by a sharp blade
lungs collapsed

been awaken brutally
to a truth
lying just below the surface that
I didn't want to face

Zeigeist

http://www.zeitgeistmovie.com

Have you seen it?

I thought of Jung's words "if you want to change the world, change yourself". I'm working on that, learning to take responsability for my thoughts, actions, beliefs, emotions... and learning to reconcile and relate with all beings of the universe...

Il n'y a malheureusement pas de sous-titres français pour ce film (pour l'instant?)...

This is love:
to fly toward a secret sky,
to cause a hundred veils
to fall each moment.
First, to let go of life.
Finally, to take a step
without feet.

Rumi

rugby world cup 2007

Yeeeesssss........
I know it's not fair play, but I'm pleased England lost tonight in the final against South Africa.

Because I wanted SA to win - it means so much to this country the guys in the pub were crying...
Because to my opinoin they can't play attractive rugby.
Because they prevent other teams to play attractive rugby.
Because however good Wilko is (and he is) he can't make the whole team on his own.
Because I still haven't gone over France being beaten last week (and again last night as a matter of fact against Argentina...)
Because when England win it's not only about them being happy about it
Because it is also (mostly?) about them denigrating the opposition

I'm happy SA won tonight.
Good for them.
Good for rugby.

I wish

I wish he'd be here holding me tight
"everything's fine sweety"
He's gone and I feel sad
He's gone and maybe that's better

I wish not for him really
but want to be in love
I thought we held something warm together
He's gone and maybe that's beter

I wish it didn't hurt
because he needs to grow up
Somewhere I had secret plans
He's gone and maybe that's better

I wish the pain was not that bad
the alcohol's opened my old wound
why I am trying to convince myself that he's gone and
Maybe that's better...

Apprivoiser

J'ai déjà parlé (peut-être pas en français) du vrai défi qui me dévisage de faire de cet appartement mon chez moi. Mais ça vient, doucement. Tout doucement. Je pensais prendre le taureau par les cornes et m'installer en moins temps qu'il faut pour le dire. Rien ne se passe comme prévu et j'apprivoise l'espace par petits bouts - un coin du jardin où j'ai planté des bulbes de jonquilles, ma chambre maintenant peinte, une statue de Shiva dansant devant la fenêtre...

et aujourd'hui une table et 4 chaises en chêne. J'étais tombé en arrêt devant, tout comme une table basse qui est arrivée en même temps. Cet après-midi, 7 grandes planches de chêne massif avec lesquelles je vais faire des étagères. Je ne sais pas encore comment, car elle font près de 3cm d'épaisseur et 60cm de large... la prochaine étape est donc de trouver quelqu'un qui ait les outils et les compétences pour découper ces planches dans la longueur!! Mais tout comme les tables et chaises, quand j'ai découvert ces planches, j'ai su de suite que rien d'autre ne ferait l'affaire!

Je sens que j'ai vraiment besoin de chaleur et de vie pour être bien chez moi. Couleurs chaudes et lumineuses, tapis en laine (pas encore trouvé), bois massif encore vivant, capable de me parler et que je devrai caresser et nourrir de temps en temps...

abandonment

not talking about sport there as in sport, sometimes you've got to throw the towel. But the opponent "being abandoned" might not be delighted but at least happy to go through without a fight...

referring to life and not talking about the one giving up there but rather the one being abandoned and like in sport it can be that one who makes the next grade up. the one who gives up has to start it all over again it is like a failed attempt and each steps need to be climbed again.

I felt ready and find it difficult to accept that P. was not.

The positive thing is that I did all I could, I was myself, I opened my heart and gave what I could, what I was. He did give sometimes but in the end preferred to give up. It didn't work out.

The difficult thing now is to not close myself and my heart in a kind of "see, there's no point to open up as it doesn't help and it hurts more when it doesn't work". The pain throws me back in an ancient wound that I do not want to revisit but maybe the time is ripe for it whether I want it or not, whether I feel ready or not. something tells me I am ready.

whether it'll be another storm, another freak wave, I feel rooted and connected, I feel there is space within to live through and observe at the same time. I feel there is an invitation to step through the next level of the game - one I've never been before. it is just there, reachable but I'm not sure what the rules are. maybe I don't need to know them as there is someone to help me at the gate - I "just" need to trust her. my intention is to put my trust in her as she knows how.

Clairon et Clairette sont dans un bateau, il pousse les deux à l'eau...

Clairon pleure
Clairette est dans une colère noire
Clairon a vraiment peur
Clairette ne veut pas le savoir

Puis la musique s'enroule autour de leurs corps

Clairon refuse que ça passe
Clairette lui en veut à vie, à mort, à mer
Clairon garde la tête basse
Clairette est entrée en guerre

Puis les notes s'égrennent dans leurs coeurs

Clairon se laisse amadouer
Clairette le previent, "fais tes prières"

Puis le rythme roule et redouble

Clairon se fait oublier
Clairette n'en a que faire
Puis les basses et les aigus viennent frapper plus fort

Clairon et ses larmes ont disparu
Clairette et ses menaces ne sont plus

Puis c'est tout l'orchestre qui donne le tempo
d'une mélodie qui vient caresser un coeur nouveau
Vivant sur un rythme encore inconnu

à vif

mon coeur est
à vif
en offrande
brûlé
transpercé
de part en part

il en coule
plus que du sang
plus que des larmes
du changement
j'ai peur

bye-bye les bleus

I've rarely been so disappointed with a lost rugby game.. frustrated, angry, sorry, but rarely disappointed.

I'm far from being an expert but I do know the rules and understan what's going on on the pitch and here, tonight, I thought France didn't play enough their own game. Maybe England prevented them to do so - that's where my expertise stops... Then w started to play more of their game in the second half, and sure enough they were better than us at it, and put us under great pressure.

So when the one mistake cost us the game, it is heart breaking.

It is even worse against Egland. Not because it is England and I'm French. No. Because as an outsider, I'm sure the game was rather boring. England has a kicking game that is not attractive but boringly efficient and tonight it showed. Again.

silence

not that it is how I feel these days... silence on the world wide web for me for the last three days though. not a word either written or read on anyone else's journey... an eternity!

the thickness of my own journey these days is such that I can't seem to find the words to explain it or share it. Every single details seems of the utmost importance so how on Earth could I share them all? Each day is a revolution in itself, a new discovery (when not more than one), a learning curve, a real excitment mixed up with fear/terror sometimes...

good night/good day, depending on where you are on Mother Earth.

blessings to all and each of you

growing up is dying a little

it's been a week of ups and downs, not too high up and never really deep down but exhausting noneless.

Yet when I'm asked "how are you?" or "how's life treating you?" I don't really know how to answer that. I don't have words. I'm kind of mixed up, confused. A voice within, I believe she's Clairette, is joyful and thankful for all the changes of the last 3 weeks and is basically happy. Another feels like weeping (Clairon!) and makes my heart sink as if a victim of what is happening and in need of help and support. I oscillate between those two (and there might be more, too) and I know that neither of them is right. It doesn't sound like the truth in either case. So what???

I want answers, NOW!!! (Clairon)
Or do I? (Clairette)

I've played Clairon for most of my life and Clairette has only come in very recently. Have I already outgrown the character? What/who is going to come next? I don't know and I don't know how long it will take before i do.

tonight I feel that I may be losing control on "how I want my life to be run". I do not claim that I know the answers because clearly I don't. I accept that others have different opinions and priorities and that it doesn't necessarily serve me. Interestingly it doesn't necessarily desserve me either. I see that I can be patient, present, paying attention to the now... not always so easy to live, though

Still, I've had this week the nicest dream I've ever had since I started recording them night after night for the last 5 years. Peace, freedom, fertile field... there is some positive in the "confusion"

Allez les bleus!!

Beating the kiwis at rugby tonight felt like winning the final and be world champions... except that there are another two games to go before that, maybe...


But what a game!! my friend text me all the way from NZ saying there's going to be a day of mourning down under... Had we lost again this team of amazing strength, quality and above all playing beautiful rugby, I'd still have been ok. France had scored a try (the second was the winning one) and had certainly not looked out of depth!

Thanks to those guys who works their socks off on the pitch, believed in themselves when most of us didn't and pulled up a fantastic performance on the day. Let's hope they do the same against England next week to erase a sad memory of being beaten last time around in a wet and windy day, also in the semis...

Allez les bleus!

à moi...

une chambre, un salon, une cuisine et une salle de bain minuscule... et voilà, je viens de vous faire visiter mon nouveau chez moi. Mon chez moi, à moi...

j'y ai déposé mes cartons il y a maintenant 3 semaines, et ce n'est qu'hier que j'ai commencé à vouloir en faire mon chez moi, à moi...

Cet appartement, je l'ai voulu, j'en avais rêvé depuis longtemps, mais maintenant que c'est fait, je ne suis pas prête. Je dois des remerciements et une aide financière non négligeable à Mick et à mes parents, mais cet appartement m'appartient. à moi...

Ma vie en est toute chamboulée. Je me sens faire des bonds en avant ayant au préalable chaussé les bottes de sept lieux tout en étant tirée vers le passé, à revisiter des douleurs "ancestrales". Au milieu de cela, je ne peux être qu'un témoin et observer ce script sur lequel je n'ai pas la mainmise alors même qu'il s'agit de ma vie. à moi...



Quand je reste dans le présent les blessures du passé semblent bien lointaines et les peurs d'un avenir incertain n'ont pas de prises. Alors je m'appartiens, à moi...

Une paix intérieure s'installe, mon coeur s'emplit d'amour que je peux donner autour de moi consciemment. On me l'a dit maintes et maintes fois, j'ai un coeur gros comme ça. Et ce coeur, il est à moi...

Aimer et être aimée

Le temps est venu...
... de reconnaître et d'accepter l'amour que l'on m'a donné et que l'on me donne plutôt que de me lamenter sur l'amour ideal que j'aurais voulu recevoir

It is now time...
... to look at the love I received rather than go on and on about the one - the ideal one - that I wasn't given and that I thought I deserved

Le temps est venu...
... d'apprendre a aimer de façon consciente et de stopper mes extraordinaires réserves de se vider en raison d'une fuite

It is now time...
... to send love and compassion consciously rather than let my great reserves depleting unconsciously as if unaware of a leak

another Monday
another dance
another edge
another discovery

new steps
new flowing
new breathing
new opening

send blessings
give thanks
receive love
heal the hearts

réflexions sensations

après une journée presque entièrement passée à l'intérieur, me voilà rentrée d'une toute petite promenade le long de la tamise
à deux minutes à pied, je peux ainsi raconter que c'est actuellement marée descendante, et qu'une semaine après l'équinoxe, le coefficient reste gros... ne pouvant m'assoir en raison d'un temps maussade conservant une humidité exemplaire, je me suis apppuyée sur la rembarde et j'ai contemplé cette eau parfois grondante, parfois jaillissante ou menaçante, s'éloigner vers l'est et la mer.

loin de m'apporter la sérénité que j'espérais, j'ai reçu la férocité, le tumulte, et le bouillonnement de cette eau saturée de terre et mi-douce/mi-salée... calée sous Tower Bridge ou presque, j'ai ressenti toute sa lourdeur de faire se rejoindre et de soutenir deux rives opposées, d'être unique et admiré mais au bout du compte d'être isolé et les pieds dans l'eau

mon nouveau chez moi est un peu bruyant, les voisins du dessus mettent leur musique un peu fort, j'entends celui d'à côté pisser, mais qu'importe? j'ai un jardin ensoleillé et la tamise à deux minutes

quote

There is nothing like dream to create the future. Utopia to-day, flesh and blood tomorrow
Victor Hugo

désir sacré

la souffrance
de la petite enfance
remonte à la surface

elle va et vient
de près en loin
et toujours laisse une trace

si la vaguelette sera recouverte la grande marée vient lécher le dos d'un rocher encore inviolé

mon coeur
qui sans cesse avait peur
s'était protégé, barricadé

hermétiquement
on parle d'avant et d'après l'accident
et d'une prison dorée

si la vaguelette est recouverte la grande marée vient frapper à une porte rongée et une serrure rouillée
un jeu d'enfants
au papa et à la maman
comme un passage obligé

deux petits corps nus
qui s'enlacent à vue
sans arrière pensée

si la vaguelette est recouverte la grande marée est venue exposer une honte et un secret jusque là bien gardés

un désir intact
malgré cette attaque
chez des enfants de l'amour

la beauté
de leur découverte sacrée
enfin révélée dans la splendeur du jour

si la vaguelette a été recouverte la grande marée vient rendre sacrées les plages désertées pour des raisons oubliées

newness friendy tornado

The last two days have gone cold and if I needed reminded I feel that I've missed the warmth. My body, skin, insides need some warmth. Summer simply forgot London over these last few months and I feel like going away in a nice and warm place somewhere in the world. Anywhere.

I dream of going to California to dance with Gabrielle Roth but cannot make my mind.
I imagine my skin giving thanks to the sun while lying on the beach in Dahab, Egypt.
I compare flight fares to Majorca or Barbados only to close the websites and get back to Earth.

My clay feet are glued on British soil. Shamanic training in the West country. Dance classes and workshops in London. Maybe this is what I need rather than what I want. Keep my feet on the ground, be earthy, well balanced and centered to sustain the strong winds of transformation that have battered my life for the last few months...

After 3.5 years living in the same flat and experiencing a variety of flatmates, I knew that it was time to move on. On a rainy Monday morning in the middle of November 2006 I just knew. It wasn't time for the how, when, where... but the seed had been planted next to a Cornish sacred well. About 3 months later, a opportunity came up and by the 1st of April, I moved in my very good friend Mick's flat for 6 months while he was backpacking in Central and South America. This brought a life change by itself.

2 weeks later I made an offer to buy a ground floor flat close to the river Thames - after 10 years in the UK and approximately 2 to 3 years during which I knew that my life was to be here, it was sending the world, and mostly my friends and family the tangible signal that my life was in London - for the foreseeable future.

A week after that I was meeting P. and the relationship is a real learning curve for me: learn to respect both what he is in all his qualities and limitations and what I am in all my qualities and limitations, be present to him, me and us, opened and vulnerable, human, woman... It had been a 2 and a half year "gap" between love relationships and the fear factor was very much present... especially as this new relationship did not resemble any I'd had before

At the beginning of June a dance worshop mixed up with strong influence of shamanism ripped off part of my hiding place. I discovered I had no right to lie to myself any longer in one specific department - I am a sexual being and a sensual woman, who likes and needs to be touched and touch others. I am still busy integrating this in my life and going through ups and down in accepting this new reality with no reference model to follow.

Finally (?) the recent entering into the world of shamanism is opening more doors. I have become a child again over the weekend and I am noticing that the rhythms of my steps have changed, that I sometimes feel awkard and broken in a movement I have practiced for nearly 36 years and that could not be more unconsciously done (except maybe breathing). I keep forgetting things and meetings at work and this makes me laugh. My clocks at home (mobile phone, ipod, cooker...) are playing up with me giving me wrong (and all different) times making me late for work. My heart recurrently opens up and his fire spreads to the rest of my chest. If this sensation made me feel extremely vulnerable and terrified of all others just a few days ago, it somehow makes me feel closer to all creations of the world tonight, including human beings. Yet I have no reference point (again!!) to adjust and I have difficulties finding the balance between feeling compassion and fear of carrying someone else's burden. Yet I feel confident that I am learning and a new way will emerge.

I've now moved into this new flat nearly 2 weeks ago. I do not have furniture inside and boxes are still lying around. I feel some pressure for "sorting it out" asap and be settled. I'm pleased I am not surrendering to this pressure as the new space is slowly infusing into me and I discover day after day the way I want to make it mine - I refuse the IKEA/Habitat reference and it is not always easy...

Two days ago, I've found my power place - facing the south pilar of Tower Bridge from the "beach" at low tide. I've found an overwhelming need to receive the steadfastness of these stones, the majesty and proudness of the towers and above all the strength of the bridges legs playing with the coming and going waters of the river. The bridge not only connects both sides of the river it also brings together the earth and the sky, and the elements air, water, earth. And fire makes it shine.

Maybe there's so much happening within and without, there's no need for me to go anywhere in search of newness.

body - spirit - soul - mind

Not been long in this way of life and I keep meeting more and more interesting people. I still sometimes feel very small when they talk about what they've lived and experienced and still sometimes compare... yet I've noticed how self-confidence has improved and how I can also laugh at that worthless feeling. It is lovely.

Not been long in this way of life yet I have tested/tasted a few different ways in - 5Rhythms, Qi Gong, Tantra, Shamanism, Crano-sacral... all of them radiating from analytical psychology. Of course, there are lots of other ways in that I might try (or not). I used to have high expectations before a session or a workshop, looking for the great, the amazing, the overwhelming... and it had happened most of the time.

I give thanks for these experiences that fulfilled a need.

Yet I have been more and more conscious over the last few months how I could separate entirely the experience from my day-to-day life. On a very practical level, I would leave my phone at home and would cut all possible ties, and travel alone - in order to have time to transform by the time I arrive? I would becomes irritable when people talked about their jobs or their lives back home... Interestingly, I have recently seen how I would have an experience, maybe write about it and then put it in a box on the shelf clearly labelled with a date, a name, and the transformation that took place. Then it was a question of "been there, done that"...

4 months ago or so I went to a 5Rhythms worshop and had consciously decided to not only take my phone with me but to use it. The experience I had wasn't any less important and transforming for it. For the first time, I allowed my day-to-day life to leak and enter the life in parenthesis and vice et versa. It was a very healing experience by itself. The split within getting narrower.

Yesterday I have come back from the first component of a 1-year training in shamanic healing. My day-to-day life penetrated even more this time, spreading to talking to my sister on the phone, sending emails to close friends and talking to P. and even checking with results of the rugby game between France and Ireland (France thrashed Ireland by the way, if you are interested...) Even though I have long known this is a 1-year training, resistances were strong and it is not before the third day that my body and my mind accepted that I would see the circle again and again and again...

I am learning to incorporate the teachings of this training into my dayto-day life because ultimately that is what it is all about - a way of life. I know this is going to be a real challenge but I know I have support from my circle and in particular my dear buddy A.

I give thanks to every person of this circle for making it what it is and I give thanks to all the forces of the Universe that brought us together and made this circle what it is.

lost for words...

I went through maybe the most powerful spiritual experience on Friday night. Hear spiritual in a very litteral way, as I was blessed to be touched by the Great Spirit.

And I'm pleased to say that I really don't mind whether this make you smile and being credulous or go away from this page and blog to never come back...

I will not be trying to relate, explain or convince. It only happened. I know it. I physically feel it in my heart since then - a burning glow that sometimes go as far as hurting when it is being ripped open. I feel extremely vulnerable but also I feel a magnificent strength, power, determination growing from within. It is beautiful and beautifully offered. It is now up to me to make it mine, incorporate it in my life and make sure I don't let it leak and waste...

I give thanks to the Great Spirit for being chosen and to the circle who witnessed the experience.

autumn

it'll be very quick but i wanted to just mark the day by a few words. today is equinox day. we are entering autumn. the wheel of life continues to turn...

new home

celebrating
packing
moving
thanking
reorganising
imagining

new beginnings

building
breaking
undoing
measuring
painting
tiling

new beginnings

sowing
nailing
dusting
resting
transforming
allowing

new beginnings

Yeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssss

I am a property owner in London.... I've had a call this morning from my solicitors telling me completion was done and dusted, then one from the estate agent saying I could come and pick up the keys anytime...

I went, got the keys, went to the flat at around 4.30pm. It was very sunny and I started to think about what I'm going to transform to make it my own home.


Then I had some champagne for my friends. I wanted to have a flat warming party just then and there, empty flat to give it some kind of life of its own, some of my and my friends energy... I've had a wonderful time tonight thanks to them. I feel that I can now move and make the necessary transformation. Somehow it's already mine, I've started to own it in some way therefore I can negociate with it: what it wants and doesn't want, what I want and don't want. I guess it's going to take a while before I am settled, before it is the way I want it to be, before I erally feel home??? maybe not...

did I hear well earlier on "is this going to be our room?"

I'll leave the question linger without wanting to know more...

back home

I thought I'd write about my days in Paris in the last entry. As I didn't, I felt the need to write two entries. The rest of the time there just didn't fit with the experience I've had alongside my grand-mother.

Yet as I don't feel like going on and on, there's one thing that I wanted to say that continues to amaze me, please me, make me feel guilty... As I came off the Eurostar and shortly after that walked on the platform of the northern line to go to work, I felt home... So much more than in Paris (where I've never lived by the way). My heart filled with Love and excitment for just being there.

I have really found my heart in London. The hard work and the patience is also to not leave it behind when I go to France...

wonders of old age

Back this morning from 3 days in Paris mixing work and pleasure.

I'd taken my laptop thinking that I would certainly post some entries on this page, but all that happened was that I could not find words. Not worthwhile words. Well at least at the time. Yet I can usually ramble and go on for lines and lines to say not much - like I do now - but it just wouldn't happen there. Also I must say I was quite busy.

I spend most of Monday with my gran' at her nursing home. She was asleep as I arrived but I did give her a light kiss which woke her up. I'll always remember the smile she gave me was the highlight of the day. Her whole face opened up, her question mark-like back straightened in the space of a split second and her lungs inhaled more air all at once than they could remember... She was very present and attentive for approximately 10 minutes before diving again into a world of shadows inaccessible to any human being well and alive. Those 10 minutes had required more energy than she could give and the batteries needed recharging. It seems that the little life left in her is taking the micky out of her and her whole life - everything is given to the body, "that thing" that she had been taught, then taught herself to her children and in particluar her daughters to denigrate, supress, ignore... and worse!
And so I stayed for her mid-afternoon snack but she would not have anything to eat and at least accepted to drink some tea. There again, the effort to bring the cup to er lip would require that she falls asleep - to recover energy? And so time went by til dinner time. Her tray had enough food to give me more than a large lunch and it took her 90 minutes to swallow approximately 15 spoons of soup, a little bowl of salad, a mouthful of cheese, a piece of bread and a peach...

I can't help wondering what is all this spiritual work going on behind the scenes that keep her going. Who are the spirits keeping her in this human world, in human form? What is the purpose for her to be still be here? She's had enough more than once in the last few months and really gave up consciously at least once. Tonight I do not want to wish her to get better, or stay longer... I want to wish her to be as present as possible to whatever is happening to her, in what looks like depression, physical pain, boredom, tiredness, small joys, too! And there are some small joys for her - the fact that one of her 9 children come round twice a day to help her eat and keep her company; the many friends visiting her for short periods of time and reminding her that she's justy had her 44th great-grand child... her face illuminates, her eyes become sharp and witty, proud - surely these are small joys.

We exchanged maybe 30 phrases for the whole 5 hours I stayed with her. I felt peaceful as I left. I know it can sound selfish but it was good for me to have been there with her, for her, but also (mostly?) for me.

Disguise

Hiding places are getting scarse
too small
or far away
growing old and bare
far too well known...

cracks and squeeks
fading colours and falling leaves
my second skin is drying out

Hiding places are getting scarse
too small
or far away
growing old and bare
far too well known...

screams and weeps
broken silences and true rumours
thansformation is happening

Hiding places are getting scarse
too small
or far away
growing old and bare
far too well known...

Glitters and golds
rising sunshine and unexpected rainbows
she's being given some breathing space

Hiding places are getting scarse
the air is warm and bright
smells good
feels thick and smooth
takes the camouflage away
and sometimes it is ok

Citation

Le savoir-vivre est la somme des interdits qui jalonnent la vie d'un être civilisé, c'est à dire coincé entre les règles du savoir-naître et celles du savoir-mourir.

Pierre Desproges

rugby world cup 2007

Yes it is happening in France, it has started tonight with the hosts playing Argentina. It was always going to be a difficult game - It's not from me, I'm merely repeating what I've read in the papers in the last two weeks...

I'm just back from the pub where I watched the game - a very poor French side got desservedly beaten 17-12 in a scrappy game where the Argentines were certainlymore agressive and went for it.

I'm not an expert of the game so I won't say more than that, only that France can play much better than what they've showed tonight.

I've got one question though : is the coach Bernard Laporte more interested in his coming position in the French government as Secretary of State for Sports? Maybe I'm being very unfair...

twist

Funny how I wanted to explain how I've felt in the last two or three days in relation to my blog like I don't feel attached to it as much as I have been in the last month or so... and something else completely different came up. A short poem, in French, on Love.

Well that's me, too...
Without any idea whether I am in love; whether I love P. the man in my life;
Unable to define or pigeonhole Love; exciting and scary;
Oscillating between flying high and crashes;

I've been told - and I've experienced before - that my truth will show somewhere in the middle. May I be able to see it when it reveals itself to me in its own time.

recette maison

Par moment, je me sens en amour
la situation n'avance pas assez vite à mon goût
alors je m'inquiète
compare
calcule
évalue
tous les détails minutieusement.

Le modèle de référence est-il seulement fiable?
Dites-moi seulement
Qui a écrit le mode d'emploi?

Par moment, seulement amoureuse
c'est chouette de prendre le temps de se découvrir
alors je m'épanouis
profite
découvre
offre
des petits tous et des petits riens.

Le modèle de référence est-il fiable?
Dites-moi seulement
Comment écrire le mode d'emploi?

Je vous dis qu'il pas pour moi
Je vous dis que je n'en veux pas
Cet amour je veux l'assaisonner à ma façon
J'imaginerai une nouvelle recette maison

My mum's dad, bon-papa was the name we used to call him and we use to talk about him, passed away 10 years ago yesterday.

Not difficult to remember as he died 3 days after Diana, Princess of Wales. I'd been in London for a few months and the whole town, the whole nation poured into the capital to bring flowers and grieve her. My very good friend M. had come to visit me that week and I left her alone in London for 24h to go to his funeral in the surburb of Paris.

I remember how I felt teribly guilty to leave her behind.

He was to be buried in Brittany, in a small and lovely cemetery overlooking the bay. He was to be looking at the sea, the Love of his life. The whole family drove the 450 km to Brittany. I didn't so that I could get back to London and my friend.

I remember how I felt terribly guilty to leave him behind.

It took nearly a year before I saw his tomb. Bonne-maman did not want any polished marble stone or anything ready made of the sort. It had to blend with the Earth. It took months before the time and efforts of herself and her children (she's had nine of them...) were rewarded with a gigantic menhir-like stone that sits well with the surroundings. His name and dates of birth and death were simply carved onto the stone without colouring of any sort so that you actually need to look close to find it.

I remember him as a child sailing on his boat or going out to fish shrimps and crabs as the tide is coming in. I remember him polishing, painting, diy-ing this sailing boat A Dieu Vat, possibly the most valuable thing he had. I remember him bent over (and thinking about it now, probably conversing with) his raws of rose trees. I remember him at my parents in the countryside going for walks hours on end. I remember him changing the sheet once a week on his old and cherished barometer. I remember him one new year's eve smiling at me as I sipped a wonderful old-fashionly cooked hot chocolate.

I remember his last few years as he lost his short term memory, as he would ask the same questions again and again without tiring. I remember as he slowly fell on the side of overwhelming anxiety and how that could take him to bursts of anger or rage. I remember visiting him in a highly medicalised nursing home after he'd given up with life - his breathing sounded like something was caught and vibrating into the pipes of the kitchen sink. I remember how I was left by myself with him for just a few minutes and how much I wanted to tell him I loved him. I remember how my throat remained tight shut, my hands in my pockets and my eyes dry when my heart was weeping.

Today and for the last few months, bonne-maman has been declining with no particular disease. There have been times when we thought she'd had enough and was about to join him in the other world. It's been very important for me to listen to my needs, go and see her when I felt like it, spend time with her even without words exchanged. I think that the time of words has passed for us but I want to be there to simply hold her hand in mine. I feel that this is a time of closure, of goodbyes, of putting things to rest, of forgiveness towards her and towards myself. I feel that this is a time of healing that goes far beyond her and me.

If I regret the lost time with bon-papa, I am blessed with the time given with bonne-maman. I feel that when she goes I will not be feeling guilty. Hopefully I'll see her in a few days.

Marie et Victoire

Les pas lourds et désordonnés s'approchent à une telle vitesse et dans un tel fracas que Victoire peutt sentir le vent du désespoir toucher son coeur depuis l'intérieur de la roulotte. Sa main s'arrête net, la brosse ayant gardé dans ses griffes une large poignée de ses longs cheveux encore mouillés. Le temps est suspendu jusqu'à ce que l'ouragan ne pénètre dans son nid douillet. Il ne faut pas longtemps. La porte s'ouvre dans un fracas assourdissant laissant passer Marie, armée d'une feuille de papaier qu'elle vient coller au visage de Victoire.
"Il m'a menti tout du long, il m'a qu'il ne voulait être avec personne, qu'il ne souhaitait pas démarrer de romance et vlan, trois jours plus tard, il se maque avec la premièr venue! Je le hais, je le hais!"

Victoire a pris le temps de poser sa brosse à cheveux sur la commode, s'approche avec douceur de Marie qui s'est mise à sangloter et lui prend la main, essayant de séparer gentillement les doigts qui sont serrés sur le bout de papier.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est ?" demande Victoire d'une voix apaisante avant de décoder quelques mots entre les sanglots de Marie, "le dernier billet sur son blog". Ca a l'air de marcher comme un déclic, les doigts de Marie s'ouvrent comme par magie, "je l'ai lu au moins 200 fois, je le connais par coeur. Pourquoi il m'a pas dit qu'il voulait pas de moi plutôt que de mentir ? Pourquoi il voulait pas de moi ?" dit-elle dans des sanglots qui redoublent. Victoire attrape le papier que Marie lui tend maintenant, le déchiffone autant qu'elle peut, tout en faisant assoir Marie sur le bord de son lit. Elle s'assoit à ses côtés, lui passe la bras autour des épaules et commence la lecture silencieuse.

"[...] Aussi, j'ai rencontré une fille. On a dansé ensemble, une de ces danses, vous savez, les yeux dans les yeux dès la première note, dès le premier mouvement, comme si on avait déjà dansé ensemble de depuis toujours. C'était tellement bon. Puis elle a tenu mon coeur dans le creux de ses mains et j'avais tout simplement envie de pleurer, là, dans ses bras, mais je me suis retenu, ce n'était ni le lieu ni le moment. On a rendez-vous pour dîner demain soir. Je suis heureux. Alors qu'on parlait après le cours, elle a utilisé ces mots à double sens, j'ai aimé ça, mais je n'ai pas relevé, en tout cas pas à haute voix. Etait-ce voulu de sa part ? [...]"

"C'est tout ? demande Victoire étonnée
- Comment ça c'est tout ? rétorque Marie mi-indignée mi-choquée par cette question. A l'heure où on parle, il doit être en train de se faire beau pour elle et la seule chose à laquelle il doit penser c'est de finir dans son lit.
- Attend, il y a encore quelques heures, il était le plus merveilleux des hommes, gentil , attentif, souriant, patient, curieux, spirituel, à la recherche de lui-même, et d'un coup ces quelques mots suffisent à changer la donne. Je ne comprends pas, Marie, dit Victoire avec la voix chaude de la gentillesse.
- Laisse tomber alors, c'est pas la peine, rétorque Marie sur un ton de reproche en redressant la tête qu'elle avait appuyée sur l'épaule de son amie
- Non, je laisse pas tomber, répond Victoire patiemment. Tu es dévastée et je n'aime pas te voir comme ça, mais peut-être que tu peux m'expliquer ?
- J'ai tout donné à ce mec. Je lui ai ouvert la porte de chez moi, j'ai passé du temps avec lui, je lui ai fait un petit déjeuner, laissé accès libre à mon ordinateur. J'ai tout fait pour qu'il se sente chez lui, à l'aise, et c'est comme ça qu'il me remercie! La prochaine fois il peut aller se faire voir ailleurs! D'ailleurs, il n'y aura pas de prochaine fois. Ca va bien de se faire prendre pour une conne, une fois suffit!"

Les larmes ont quitté les joues de Marie et laissé la place à des pommettes rosies, des pupilles dilatées et la machoire serrée par la colère. Le dos raidit, elle arrache la feuille de papier des mains de Victoire, et ajoute, "Si tu peux pas comprendre ça, je sais pas pourquoi je suis là" sur un ton sans appel, puis se lève, prête à partir. Victoire ne pipe mot. Elle la connaît sa Marie depuis le temps, rien ne sert d'envenimer la situation, elle reviendra d'elle-même. Sur le pas de la porte encore ouverte, Marie se retourne, "et tu dis rien? tu t'en fous, c'est ça?" sur un ton de reproche.
"Non, je ne m'en fous pas et tu le sais très bien. Et tu sais aussi très bien que dans cet état là tu n'écoutes pas ce que je te dis, alors je préfère me taire, dit Victoire, toujours aussi calme, alors qu'elle pense tout bas "Je sais pas quoi te dire ma vieille, je réfléchis". "Tu veux pas venir te rassoir ?
- Non tu m'emmerdes à toujours jouer le bon samaritain, toujours calme, jamais gagnée par les émotions, comme si rien n'avait d'importance. Je sais pas pourquoi je suis venue, vraiment! dit Marie, en posant la main sur la poignée de la porte, pête à quitter la roulotte où elle est venue tellement de fois se réfugier et chercher un peu de chaleur humaine. Le chaleur de la poignée est comme un électrochoc, elle la lâche instantanément et donne un coup de pied dans la porte avec une telle violence que celle-ci rebondit et vient se claquer en faisant trembler la roulotte.

"L'ouragan vient de passer", pense Victoire. Bouche-bée, Marie reste immobile, incapable de rien, l'esprit vide.
"Tu veux pas venir te rassoir ? redemande Victoire toujours avec la même voix douce et apaisante.
Marie reste figée, silencieuse, absente elle n'a pas entendu Victoire qui se lève, lui passe un bras autour des épaules, la guide gentillement vers sa chambre et l'invite à se rassoir sur le bord de son lit, "Ne bouge pas, je vais te faire une tisane comme tu l'aimes, bien chaude", dit-elle en chuchotant dans le creux de son oreille, comme si Marie était malade. Elle s'éloigne vers la cuisine, et gardant un silence religieux remplit la bouilloire, attrape deux tasses dans le placard à sa droite juste au-dessus de l'évier et sans avoir besoin de faire un pas sort deux sachets de tisane de fenouil dans le placard à petit-déjeuner. Après avoir versé l'eau bouillante sur les sachets, elle ajoute une cuillérée à café de miel et retrouve Marie dans la position exacte dans laquelle elle l'a laissé. "Ca à l'air d'être sérieux cette fois", pense-t-elle. Des larmes viennent s'écraser sur les genoux de Marie, qui ne fais rien pour les sècher ni les cacher. "S'en rend-elle seulement compte", se demande Victoire qui vient se rassoir à ses côtés, "tiens, du fenouil avec du miel. Attends un peu avant de boire, c'est bouillant pour l'instant", dis-elle.

"Je lui parle comme si elle avait 4 ans, pense-t-elle, alors qu'elle en a 23. Remarque, là tout de suite, elle a certainement pas 23 ans. Qu'est-ce qu'elle imaginait, qu'est-ce qu'elle attendait de ce mec? Oui il était canon, oui, il la regardait avec un sourire qui pouvait lui laisser penser qu'il souhaitait plus que simplement un canapé dans le salon, mais d'après Marie, il avait été très clair aussi, il ne souhaitait rien de plus. Alors quoi, Marie, ça faisait des jours et des jours que tu en parlait, que tu étais super excitée, mais tu ne l'as vu quelques jours et savais que tu ne le reverrais pas, ou en tout cas pas de si tôt. Qu'est-ce qui est allé se mettre dans ta petite tête. Des fois, j'te jure, Marie, faudrais quand même que tu aies la tête sur les épaules..." Ses pensées sont alors stoppées par les sanglots bruyants de Marie. La vie refait surface et la douleur la submerge. Elle s'allonge sur le lit dans la position du foetus. "Enfin, ça sort", pensa Victoire en s'allongeant derrière Marie et en la tenant dans ses bras comme une mère tiendrait son bébé. "Pleure, ma belle, pleure tout ton saôul, ne te retiens surtout pas", chuchota-t-elle à l'oreille.

More mandala

I was thinking about it for a while - being home and designing a new mandala. I enjoyed making the first one so much that I felt making another. Somehow though it is as if the time chooses me rather than the other way around. And Friday it was ripe I suppose - I spread all the treasured content of my "making things" boxes, put the music on from my computer so I wouldn't have to change CDs and off I started...

I was long, complicated, I made mistakes, I had to start again but I could see it come to life. I liked going through each step, stop, watching, waiting for the next shape to be given for me to do - some I refused as I didn't like them.















Can I say I'm proud? Yes I can and I will -- I'm very proud of what I've done and I like it very much. And, I'll be able to re-use the canvas I made as this time I used thin cardboard rather than paper. How sweet...















If you want to see the first one I made a few weeks back, here it is.

overwhelmed...

... sad, frozen, stuck, heavy, lethargic, sticky, abandoned, unloved, fearful... Aaaahhhh!! this is it. fear! At least now I know what's going on within.

I've been there all evening, trying to do something, anything --- without success. I felt something needed to shift, that I should be dancing, painting, do my ironing (it's been there for ages), just do something, do something, "just do it" as I read recently in another blog. But nothing would do.

I cooked and ate without being hungry.
I looked at sofa beds (I need one soon for my flat) on various website knowing perfectly that none would be suitable tonight.
I felt like putting some music on but the flat's never been so silent.
I fancied calling a friend I haven't seen in months but couldn't gather the energy to do so.

Clairon is overwhelming tonight and I could not call Mom around this time. For some reason, it didn't work out... I just wouldn't let go, I "want" to be a victim and receive love that is not coming. Clairon awaits a Love that doesn't exist out there. I await Love from the perfect man, the God, the confident but am unable to retrieve my projections. The man is far away and busy tonight, and Clairette is secretly sending him Love and warm wishes for a night he was looking forward to, for a meeting his heart had been longing for...

Once again Clairon and Clairette struggle and Clairon buries myself because she's too frightened of the good, the beautiful, the gold in the shadow... I think I'd better give Clairette a bit of space before the day's over, to even things out. Maybe Mom will turn up then and maybe the heavy, longing energy weighing on the God out there will lift, letting him free to be a man.

Love and compassion for all the deeply wounded Clairon of this world.

an unusual dance class

It was 34 years before I was introduced to the 5Rhythms ecstatic dance, meditation in movement by Gabrielle Roth (www.gabrielleroth.com) and I've hardly missed a weekly class. Because I love it, for once. But also because it's transformed my life. Because something happens on the dance floor that is difficult to describe with words. Because there are openings and closings, hopes and fears, terrifying anger contained in the safety of the class, terrible sadness of which I fear I won't come out...
But the worst is none of these. No, the worst, to my experience, is when "nothing" happens. No big drama, no ecstasy, no elation, no inflation, no diving, no flying... nothing.

And tonight was one of those nights. I had great expectations because it was full moon, and without being able to see it in Europe, an eclipse... and so I came with an intention. But I soon found myself limited physically by some rare feet pain, tiredness, thigh muscles as hard as rock, and a bad and painful sting or bite under my left ankle but which thought best to venture across half the foot...

I came out quiet, frustrated, sad and maybe even disappointed... (I hate to think that but I reckon it is true...) I became aware of my limitations, both physical and mental, and it just hits me as I write these words that rather than being kind and sending love and support I judged myself for my "failings" and felt resentment and anger.

I am truly sorry. It is now time to make amend with gentleness and nurturing.

Clairon, Clairette et Co...

Aujourd'hui j'ai entendu une voix de plus.
J'ai découvert plusieurs personnes qui m'étaient encore inconnues.
J'ai remarqué ces chaises utilisées que je croyais vides jusque-là.
J'ai souhaité la bienvenue à bord à ces nouveaux visages.

Après Clairon et Clairette, je viens donc d'être présentée à "Mom" (à défaut de mieux)
Mom jusqu'à ce qu'elle me dise son nom.
Ce pourrait être Demeter, mais elle n'est pas.

P. avait quitté les lieux
Mom a grimpé sur la table pour rejoindre Clairon désespérée
Elle l'a pris dans ses bras, l'a embrassée et s'est allongée à ses côtés.
Elle a laissé parler les sanglots.
Elle a accepté les rechutes.
Par sa présence elle a rassuré ce coeur meurtri.
Sans un mot elle a nettoyé ces plaies inondées de terreur.
Elle a pris le temps nécessaire.
Elle avait toute la vie.

Quand elle s'est trouvé prête, Clairon est revenue s'assoir autour de la table
Mom l'a suivie puis s'est éloignée.

P. a pu retrouver sa place
Et s'est senti apprécié pour ce qu'il est :
Un homme avec qualités et défauts
et ses limites d'être humain.
P. est revenu s'installer
Et s'est senti rassuré :
Son rôle a été redéfini
Il ne lui serait plus demandé de jouer celui qu'il n'aime pas
Etre Roi.

The white bison spirit woman

Found in the conclusion of "WE - Understanding the psychology of romantic love" by Robert Johnson is the myth below.


A very long time ago, they say, two scouts were out looking for bison; when they came to the top of a hill and looked north, they saw something coming a long way off and when it came closer they cried out, "it is a woman!" and it was. Then one of the scouts, being foolish, had bad thoughts and spoke them; but the other said: "That is a sacred woman; throw all bad thoughts away."

When she came still closer, they saw that she wore a fine white buckskin dress, that her hair was very long and that she was beautiful. And she knew their thoughts and said in a voice that was like singing: "You do not know me, but if you want to do as you think, you may come." And the foolish one went; but just as he stood before her, there was a white cloud that came and covered them. And the beautiful young woman came out of the cloud, and when it blew away the foolish man was a skeleton covered with worms.

Then the woman spoke to the one who was not foolish: "You shall go home and tell your people that I am coming and that a big teepee shall be built for me in the center of the nation." And the man who was very much afraid, went quickly and told the people , who did at once as they were told; and there around the big teepee they waited for the sacred woman. And after a while she came, very beautiful and singing, and as she went into the teepee this is what she sang:

With visible breath I am walking.
A voice I am sending as I walk.
In a sacred manner I am walking.
With visible tracks I am walking.
In a sacred manner I walk.

And as she sang, there came from her mouth a white cloud that was good to smell. Then she gave something to the chief, and it was a pipe with a bison calf carved on one side to mean the earth that bears and feeds us, and with twelve eagle feathers hanging from the stem to mean the sky and the twelve moons, and these were tied with a grass that never breaks. "Behold!" she said. "With this you shall multiply and be a good nation. Nothing but good shall come from it. Only the hands of the good shall take care of it and the bad shall not even see it." Then she sang again and went out of the teepee; and as the people watched her going, suddenly it was a white bison galloping away and snorting, and soon it was gone.

This they tell, and whether it happened so or not I do not know; but if you think about it, you can see that it is true. (Black Elk, in Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks, pp. 3-4)

summer day?

The forecasters had predicted it and here it is!!! The sun I'm talking about!!!
After a really terrible summer, we're supposed to have a nice (warm?) bank holiday weekend.
And so I'm off to the Park!

close to completion

I got it.
It's thick.
It's heavy both in weight and in reading.
And it's not quite complete yet.



It's the report from my solicitors regarding the purchase of "my" flat.

It's getting real...
Am I excited? Yes
Am I scared? Yes
Am I impatient? Yes I think so

gifts of the storm

there's a lot of pushing and shuffling tonight
there's a storm within my heart and it is felt as far as my guts on one side and my head on the other

Clairon wants to go back to what she knows: fantasies, high up in Rapunzel's tower, away from real life because it is not the way she wants it, it is not the way she dreamt it, it is not the way she was promised it would always be...
she wants reassurance, she wants contracts, she wants feelings set in stone, she wants promises right now and for ever and ever, she wants to be fulfilled, she wants to be loved like in fairytales
Clairon is being very present tonight, like she's stood up onto the table and taking centre stage, at any cost she wants to go back to a miserable life and be seen as a victim to be rescued

on the other side, Clairette feels very small and cannot raise her voice
Clairette is there though, swinging beween the belief that Clairon is right and the knowledge that she's not... and so she goes in and out of under her cloak... when she's hiding, I feel unloved, worthless and desparately hurt... when she's out, there's life, colours, jokes and peaceful hapiness for what I have

i'm grateful i sometimes have the possibility to jump "outside" myself and dissect my emotional storms yet when stuck in the middle of it, it is so very painful

Is this growing up?