5 weeks in France Part 3 – My Heart Hurts

headstatueleshallesMy heart hurts, so I write – to process my feelings, to grieve, mourn….. I go to words and images, to find my voice. Not so much to search for meaning, for that feels vague. I write to uncover my soul, to dare to go deep into anger, sadness, shock. I write because yesterday’s violence in Paris brings me to tears, heartache, loss, sorrow. A sense of despair grows in me, so I write to breathe hope, peace, light into the darkness I candlesfeel.

This wasn’t intended to my third post. It was going to be something else, but then a threshold was crossed, a door violently broken, people killed, injured, lives shaken. So I choose to enter into my soul’s vulnerability. angelpetitpalais

Photos: I go to remember where I was just a few weeks ago – images that speak light, hope, beauty. Perhaps they will gather together in the great realm of healing and love that many around the world send to those in Paris. My heart aches for those who were simply going about their daily lives: out for dinner with friends, at a concert, hanging out with family, meeting on dates. And though it may not seem ‘helpful’ I light my candles, the ones who have returned with me from Paris: May they send light. May they offer hope. May they ‘be’ with those who mourn, grieve, wail. May they shed light into fear.lionvauxlevicomte

I hold in my heart: Sarah, Laurent, Pascal, Kathy, the staff at my favorite fromagerie on Rue Cler (they are always so kind and give me time and space to practice my French). Shopkeepers and owners whose names are unknown but whose faces, smiles, welcoming ‘Bonjours’ flood my memory. The staff at Bistrot d’Henri, Willi’s Wine Bar, Pramil, Au Bon Accueil, La Fontaine de Mars… there are many more who have welcomed, served, laughed, explained menus, and generously opened their hearts. May they know they are held with gratitude. May they be safe. May they be comforted. May they know they are not alone.



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