Tag Archives: Paris

PARIS AND IN MY LIFE

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It is another morning.  Paris is a continent away but sorrow resides in the universe.  How have we have come to this time when people knowingly open fire upon their fellow human beings?  Surely they must know that they will be killed in return.  What pushed them to give up their lives?

I ask these questions because I do not understand.  I see that they are as much victims as as the ones they have killed.  However their situations/lives may be, there will be no other chances after they are dead.  But then, I am not in their shoes.  Have not walked their mile. Have never want of the basics of life.

I’m asking these questions and seeing the words of Joni Mitchell:

I’ve looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It’s life’s illusions I recall …

I’m listening to John Lennon’s In My Life sung by Johnny Cash’s quivering voice.

These songs and lyrics play in my head along with the questions that Paris stirs up.  There is one thing I am sure of.  Life is good.  Life is sweet.  Let me count the ways.

  • waking up in the morning to the aroma of coffee perking
  • the first sip of coffee/tea. What’s not to like about that
  • breathing, laughing, crying, feeling the tears down my cheeks
  • seeing my sunroom bathed in sunlight on a cool November day
  • Sheba coming in to wake us up. Time for breakfast she says
  • making breakfast, eating breakfast, doing dishes
  • writing my words, writing my happiness, writing my pain
  • and so on and on – the ordinary, the mundane, the fantastic, the sorrows

And so, life goes on – moment by moment in all its catastrophes.  It is what we have.  I am glad I am here – in my life.

 

A CANADIAN IN FRANCE

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It’s Tuesday late afternoon. I’m tap, tapping from the Champaign region in France. I want to keep up my daily writing conversations as best and regularly as I can.

I have to tell you I feel strangely at home in a foreign country. It’s the same wherever I go – Ghana, France, Japan, etc. There’s always a sense of familiarity, Of home. My brain must have a great disconnect or connect, whichever way you want to look at it. Is it its way of comforting itself In a different environment? Whatever it is, I’m grateful for it.

I had not slept at all on the plane coming over. It was not time for we are 8 hours behind France. But it was such a relief to board the plane and be on our way after the problems involved with the travel agency.

We landed in Sunny and warm Paris Monday morning about 8:30. Getting off the plane and boarding the bus for transport to the airport, I became aware of the diversity of passengers in ages and ethnic backgrounds. Not knowing the language did not seem important. We all knew where to go and what to do. Or so it seemed.

It was relatively easy getting through immigration and onto the baggage area. Then we saw our family members there to meet us. We were off. We walked some streets of Paris, bought some sandwiches and drinks and had our lunches on a park bench.

We continued with a driving tour of the city after lunch, hitting some of its highlights – Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, etc. It was a nice introduction since we were already in the city. We saw the history surrounding us. There is a lot to see and explore.

I could not keep my eyes open after we left the city. Fatigue claimed me during part of the ride through Champaign country.