Sunday, December 24, 2017
Ages ago
It's been ages since I last took the keyboard and typed away freely in the pages of this beloved blog.
Why, you may ask?
Right, why, I may ask myself?
Ideas are always here, I've gone back to reading greedily, writing, watching, exploring, traveling more than ever in my head. Does this mean that I have become one of those daydreamers that never take action? That I can only live in my own thoughts, never touching the ground of mother Earth again?
The truth is probably in between: I am a colored balloon floating in mid-air; every now and then someone tugs at the string that pulls me closer to the ground - that is when I prepare the future, laying down new foundations, brick by brick, extremely carefully and aware that I do not fall into the same destructive trap again. There is no real balance yet between the floating and the ground, and that's most probably what I will be working on more than ever during the new year. This is also one of the reasons why I have been away from these pages, writing elsewhere every now and then, taking pictures and posting for other brand new projects too...
Oh no, do not expect from me any "resolutions": I loathe the word. It is set in cold stone, immuable and gloomy as a grey Parisian sky.
I see it more like the next station in my voyage that started in pain two years ago - a horrible, slow and venomous pain inflicted by another human being, or rather, by what was left of it. The voyage has become a constructive one and I am still recovering and learning to go with the (air) flow. That's part of its charm and of a necessary learning curve.
I wish you all a new learning curve too, no matter how steep and rugged the soil ahead may be. Let's keep on daydreaming, dreaming and reaching higher with the help of loving peers and ever inspiring nature around us.
From me, to you. With love.
Credits: CreativeMarket (edited by TheDaydreamer)
Thursday, September 21, 2017
Walk in the Sun: Stand Up! {Get Moving}
Stand up!
Come on, you. Yes, you. Stand up!
What for?! you may ask. Well, a million things but given that this post is part of the Walk in the Sun summer series, it’s for something fun, light and rewarding.
Standing up means to stand up for oneself, for one’s ideas - most certainly - but also quite literally to get moving (hi there, Pinterest friends!). All year long I have pedaled in the water, remember? This summer though I decided to stand up and face my fears. I decided to reach out to the sun, touch its flaming face and embrace the smooth surface of the Mediterranean sea differently.
Snorkling is my passion: taking the time to look down instead of looking up (something I love doing, Instagram followers are aware of this, I am sure), swimming slowly to try and discern a fish here, one there and trying to memorize its shape so that once home I can flip open the book on local species and try to identify it. All this is part of a wonderfully satisfying summer ritual of mine.
This year, I stood up and looked far ahead instead of looking down and digging into the bottom of the sea: there are new skylines appearing, new suns and lights flickering. To embrace them, I stood up on a paddle surf board (aka Stand Up Paddle - SUP).
The trick is to choose an inflatable board that can follow along everywhere you travel and everywhere you know you have clear and warm blue seas waiting for you. The paddle surf package includes the surf board (its size depends on your own size) together with its fin, the paddle itself and the pump to inflate it. It’s not a light weight gear, let’s be honest (16kg). So it might be wise to check with the airline company first if that is your chosen means of transportation…
The other trick is to try paddle surfing before actually buying all the gear, common sense I would say. It gets more interesting if you can try paddle surfing in conditions that are not exactly your dream conditions: if you enjoy yourself in gray weather and on choppy waters, then the rest will be all about happiness and taking it all in!
The way I paddle surf is the way of the beginner: in the past I did receive a few guidelines and more recently a friend of mine, a surfer, explained some basic rules to me. There are just a few rules to start with, so they’re not difficult to remember. Applying them is a matter of exercise, practice and habits. I was lucky enough this summer to be able to hop on the surf board a couple of times a day for 5 days in a row - that’s not much, certainly, but enough to make me fall in love with the sensations, the effort and the sport itself. Fully aware that stand up paddle comes in different versions, the crazy one in high waves and unleashed conditions, I have to tell you up front that I enjoy the quiet kind: imagine a stroll on the water while it is calm, while waves kindly lap the shore. Harshness and speed are not my lot and I gather it is key in this sport like in any other to understand what is good for you, what it is you are craving and made for.
Given my contemplative nature and my liking for long-term effort instead of explosive effort, I had a hunch paddle surfing (as in strolling) would be my kind of activity: clear blue waters, warm temperatures all the way, blazing sun and rocks hosting schools of fish to look at - nature all around. Nature and my breathing, my muscles, my thirst, the fading sound of the beach and its noisy inhabitants (why are we so loud when at the beach?!) and the quest for balance. The hesitation and the fear I feel when trying to stand up kicks adrenaline up, and that’s life beating at my door. Forget the rules: after a couple of attempts, I just want to keep going, to find my spot, my balance, my pace. The rules will follow. Intuition comes first. Lesson learnt.
Once I stand up, it takes a few minutes to get used to the rhythm of the surface, to look up with conviction and trust so that I don’t feel seasick. Standing up looks easy, right? Well, it is not and stand up paddle is here to remind me that effort, perseverance and willingness sometimes need an extra nudge. Nature extends its hand, whispers encouragements and appealing promises. My mind and body welcome it all.
Will you stand up with me to discover new grounds and possibilities?
Come on!
Credits: snappa (edited by TheDaydreamer)
Sunday, August 13, 2017
Walk in the Sun: Paint Your Life {Discover}
In the city there’s a place where Gail welcomes you with a radiant smile and delicate gestures. She opens the door of her planet: Planète Céramique.
Once you step in, a wall of bottles of paint shows off its hues, each of them carefully labeled for easier access. This is a place dedicated to rainbows and lights, unicorns and treasures.
We are a group of 3 women and an 7 kids of very different ages: we share the excitement to be here and to be told that we can choose a white ceramic object to paint and make it come alive with colors and lines, the sky is pretty much the limit which can only be comforting for our creative frenzy.
There is a wealth of items to choose from: plates, pitchers, mugs, bowls, animals…
Both my girls pick a heart shaped plate - is this a sign from the stars or simple emulation?
Under Gail’s kind guidance, we look up a wall that looks like a Pantone dream: each tile of color is identified by a corresponding number and we soon turn this into a game of simple maths. The children tend to go slightly overboard when choosing the hues they want to use to leave their print on each plate: call it the rules of chromatic attraction, they want to test them all and here is the place where you can make 50 shades out of any starting color and really start experimenting.
Their palettes soon turn into an abstract works of art of their own: the pencils and brushes come and go, new blends appear and the young ones marvel at the results before focusing on the idea they had in mind. Some paint an owl, others a mouse, intricate and minimalist black leaves from a book, they all slowly and carefully take shape, some of them are very orderly, others messy and that's when the frontiers between the colors and the shape of a bill or a wing need to be redefined with a pencil. The beauty of it is that the kids are free to move, no extra directions and their imagination runs free. They are happy creating and being offered the opportunity to create.
In Gail’s workshop there is a front and a back room: the older kids are working in silence in the back room, signing and dating their works of art like the young professionals they are. They are enjoying the process and the group work and completely own their creations. I wonder where this touch of ownership comes from: they are still young, where have they learned all this? Maybe social media and the visual world they live in actually help them understand the need to leave the print on what they make from scratch?
Speaking of children and adults: it felt good to try and leave our comfort zone as adults and let the kid in us run free for a couple of hours. We made have promised ourselves to go back as a group of moms so as to let our hearts speak up, take some time off from efficiency and productivity. Gail offers team building sessions, workshops, school activities, and many other group activities - one more proof, if need be, that creating is good for all of us in need of a new pattern and shape in our life. It is good for all of us willing to paint our own dreams, reality and plans for the future, far from predefined labels and approaches, taking full advantage of a white canvas. What are we waiting for?
How to reach Gail :
Mobile: 06 37 33 78 43
Email: planete.ceramique@orange.fr
Opening hours
Wed: 14h - 18h
Sat: 14h - 18h
Different days and hours on demand
Address
172, avenue de la Libération
33110 Le Bouscat
France
Credits: TheDaydreamer
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Walk in the Sun: Being of Essence {The Spa}
Summer is a good time to try to refocus by giving myself a bit of slack and time off for a self-retreat and going, literally or figuratively, back to my roots. It is also a good opportunity to build on what has made me feel better during the rest of the year. Essential oils have been one of my latest discoveries and are playing an ever increasing role in my everyday life.
I had heard about essential oils before. Sure. Then I met a young lady who has been part of my new life ever since our first encounter, when we poured our hearts out. Call it women intuition, it clicked. When it is that simple and spontaneous, why question it? Why overthink?
Among her recurring topics of conversation were essential oils. It’s become one of her passions, quite simply. I do believe that’s the first reason why her interest was contagious and when she offered my first ever guide on essential oils and wooden box, that’s all I needed to take the plunge, with an extra little help from her and her knowledge.
Thanks to her and Pranarom’s Dominique Baudoux’s guide, Guide pratique Aromathérapie familiale et scientifique, I am now hooked on essential oils and all their fields of application. The book can be compared to a quick start guide: to the point, well-structured and easily readable even for a beginner like me, it gives first-hand pieces of advice and direct access to the essence of oils.
What is it all about? It’s about going back to ancient techniques of aromatherapy - think Australia’s Aborigens - to complement or supplement our traditional medication and therapeutic processes, to improve our wellbeing, both physical and mental. These volatile aromatic compounds are present in nature, all around us, the sky is the limit if you think about the number of plants surrounding us. If you’ve ever smelled a flower, you’ve experienced the fragrance of essential oils. Based on their volatile compound, essential oils will have a specific aroma and offer specific benefits to be leveraged in aromatherapy.
Thanks to different extraction techniques, the oils are taken out of the plant: the flower, the stem, the seeds, the roots and basically every single component of the plant can be used. Essential oils are long-lasting liquids to be stored in glass bottles. Based on the symptoms and disease, you will choose the relevant blend that you can either make yourself or ask your pharmacist (who should have received a specific training) to make it for you.
There is no question that essential oils, at least for me, will ever replace medication and a good old visit to the GP, but as for many other things in life, mixing up, testing and finding what works best for me is the key to my balance. As a result, I am relying mainly on two methods whenever using essential oils alone or as blends:
-Aromatic: via the sense of smell. Oils are easily absorbed by smell receptors that are linked to the limbic system in the brain.
-Topic: to be applied to skin, they penetrate easily and act directly on the desired spot.
-Internal: I only use this method to alleviate physical asthenia (read below) and I am very cautious whenever I do because I am well aware that essential oils can be toxic for our body. This method though (3 drops under the tongue) has been the most efficient for me up to now, meaning that I do feel relief quite quickly.
Dominique Baudoux’s quick guide is one to read because there are hundreds of essential oils in the world to drown yourself into! Luckily and wisely enough, he focuses on 12 of them, giving the most common blends for some of the most widespread ailments. In a way, I see it as a personal pharmacy I can resort to anytime, anywhere. As I type, I am about 2,000km away from where I normally live; in my luggage, 5 small bottles of essential oil mixtures:
1. Depression p. 94
2. Physical asthenia p. 65
3. Mental asthenia p. 64
4. Constipation p. 85
5. Wart p. 143
How did I make the complex blends? Easy peasy, thanks to these books:
1 Guide pratique aromathérapie familiale et scientifique by Dominique Baudoux
2 Ma Bible des Huiles essentielles by Danièle Festy
Making these mixtures is a delicate and precise process to be taken seriously, just as for medications. To be honest with you, just as I thoroughly enjoy the making of a cake by following a detailed recipe, I tend to fully let go and enjoy the oil making process: it helps me focus while I know I am taking time for myself and my family. In the end, even the process of choosing the oils, making the right dosage, labelling the glass containers has become a form of wellbeing and mindfulness I have come to embrace fully every time. Think soothing ritual, precise gestures and healthy ingredients.
Have you ever used essential oils? What were your expectations? In what way have they met (or not) them? What are your favorite blends and methods of absorption? In what circumstances have you found out about essential oils and aromatherapy? Tell me everything, come on!
Credits: Canva
Tuesday, July 18, 2017
2017 Summer Series: Walk in the Sun {Fairy Talk}
It has become a habit of mine to plan and design every year a special summer series. Why? Summer is a season I look forward to all year long, I crave for it, even now that our family has moved to the south; it is a time of the year where a special place, and special feelings fuel me; a moment of introspection and communion with nature; a unique moment I would not want to miss and one I enjoy writing about.
Let’s embrace this reassuring tradition of mine, shall we? Every year I land in the same location, but I rediscover it every time with different eyes. Why is that? Because I have changed over the past 12 months. So have you, I bet. The summer place that has welcomed me since I was born is a shrine for rediscovery and rebirth.
You are right, this is all very sentimental and emotional: and over the past few years I have learned to trust sentiments and emotions way more - call it the benefits of society’s deceits and lies. I know my guts will take me to safe grounds. This shows already in the title I have chosen: “Some day when my crying is done, I’m gonna wear a smile and walk in the sun”, from “Crying in the Rain” by a-ha. Yes, I am revisiting my teenager years but also keep a fond place in my heart and memory for that concert night back in Paris…
I like repeating this line to myself and sing it every now and then because it is one rooted in progression, it leads me forward: there’s no way I am going to hide my crying in the rain anymore. I am even going to try not to cry, how’s that for a change? The concert I attended as a considerate birthday present from hubby is one of the happiest moment of the past years. So here you go, I give you a droplet of my happiness.
Please, treat it with care, it is precious.
The line is one of victory: personal, professional - it does not really matter. It is a victory over combined odds, the endorsement of our own beauty and talents we need to show, smiling and self-assured, to the world.
Summer has always meant for me a period of beauty and abundance of light, silence, nature, family… The right moment then to learn to let go, take it all in and walk fiercely in the welcoming sun to regain strength and look ahead with renewed faith in ourselves and the world.
Let’s go, let’s plunge together: fresh sea salt water and sun rays from the ancient Mediterranean sea will wake us up from a deep sleep, make us wear a radiant smile again.
Credits: DeathtotheStockPhoto (edited by TheDaydreamer)
Monday, May 29, 2017
Hub Dot, un cadeau {Discover}
De très jolis cadeaux sont venus me chauffer le cœur ce matin : assemblés par de petites mains dodues et marquées de traces de feutres de différentes couleurs, ils trônent à présent sur la commode avec leurs prédécesseurs. J'y tiens à ces petites merveilles de concentration et de créativité enfantine, beaucoup même.
En observant ces présents, ma mémoire a remonté le fil du temps : pour mes parents, ces dernières années, j'ai préféré un autre type de cadeau que celui acheté tout fait ; inutile de vous dire déjà que le temps pour fabriquer de mes mains quoi que ce soit est bel et bien révolu, à mon grand regret. Non, à tout cela, j'ai préféré les expériences. Celles que nous pouvons garder en mémoire, revisiter avec quelques déformations et agréments, ces petits tours que nous joue notre tête, course folle du temps aidant...
Comme dirait mon père : "Mais qui a donc besoin d'un pull alors que j'en ai déjà (élimés, troués et aux couleurs du siècle passé), je vous le demande ? Et hop, les cadeaux finissent au fond d'un sombre placard.
A partir de là, les expériences avec le reste de la famille m'ont semblé être la solution précieuse, inimitable, irremplaçable. Les tranches de vie passées ensemble ne se ressemblent jamais.
De pensée en souvenir, me voici arrivée d'un pas bondissant à Hub Dot : depuis plusieurs mois je me suis engagée aux côté de toute une équipe à aider cette organisation à s'établir en France. Ce réseau de femmes est l'idée de Simona Barbieri, : italienne vibrante, solaire, pleine d'énergie et toujours en mouvement à l'instar de l'organisation qu'elle a fondée. D'un brunch entre filles chez elle est née l'idée et une conviction : ensemble, les femmes créent une synergie comme nulle autre. Ensemble, les femmes se racontent et s'ouvrent comme jamais. Ensemble, les femmes s'écoutent, autrement.
Pourquoi alors ne pas unir nos forces, partager nos talents connus, tout juste révélés ou encore cachés ? La version brève, c'est qu'en l'espace de quelques années Hub Dot est devenu un réseau virtuel et physique de 25 000 femmes. Oui, 25 000. Chacune d'entre elle a choisi un Dot (pastille colorée) associée à sa situation ou à son état d'esprit du moment et au diable les étiquettes habituelles. Toutes échangent librement sur la Piazza digitale et surtout, ce qui compte encore plus à mes yeux et fait toute la différence, en personne lors d'événements ponctuels organisés dans les villes du monde entier. Les conteuses choisies par les membres de Hub Dot dans chaque ville viennent animer ces événements en y prenant le micro 60 secondes : si peu pour concentrer l'essentiel de qui fait leur être, leur aventure personnelle, leur devenir. Joli défi pour toute femme qui se respecte, vous ne trouvez pas ?
C'est avant tout un grand cadeau pour une femme. Ça c'est un cadeau pour une mère, une entrepreneure, une étudiante, une voisine, une amie, une collègue...
Chaque rencontre est un creuset de mille et une histoires, mille et un portraits et de bien plus de rencontres et d'étincelles encore. Cette synergie, ces entrelacs, le plaisir de donner et recevoir qui l'on est et ce que l'on fait, c'est ça l'alchimie Hub Dot.
C'est une véritable force motrice (je vais vous faire grâce du "en marche") qui va notamment me permettre de recoller les morceaux de ma petite personne, retrouver confiance en moi-même, tendre la main aux autres, jeter des ponts entre deux rives, partager mon expérience pour que la femme assise à côté de moi puisse porter à bout son projet, ne pas se perdre de vue... Les possibilités sont infinies. Nos rêves, nos idées et nos capacités aussi.
Alors en ce jour de fête des mères, c'est une nouvelle expérience que j'offre à la mienne : elle participera à la rencontre du 8 juin prochain à La Manufacture du Design. Elle sera là, au cœur du réseau, pour passer un moment nouveau qui lui donnera, je le souhaite de tout mon cœur de fille, de mère et de femme, la volonté de saisir une nouvelle expérience à chérir.
Donner et recevoir.
Un cadeau.
Mon cadeau.
Donner et recevoir.
Un cadeau.
Mon cadeau.
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🔵 Informations pratiques concernant cet événement 🔵
1) Ecrivez-moi via l'onglet Contact de ce blog (communiqué de presse disponible sur demande)
2) Visitez le site www.hubdot.com
3) Pour acheter vos billets pour accéder à l'événement du 8 juin de 19h30 à 21h30 à la Manufacture du Design : https://hubdot.com/event/paris/101/hub-dot-paris-launch
4) La Manufacture du Design : 15, square Edouard VII - 75009 Paris ⎜⎜01 84 17 39 29
5) Enregistrez-vous sur la Piazza digitale (gratuit) : www.hubdot.com > Join & Connect
Vous pouvez y poser toutes les questions que vous voulez à toutes les femmes membres de cet espace virtuel où naissent les ententes, les échanges et se prolonge chaque événement physique Hub Dot.
8) Instagram
9) Choisissez votre Dot (pastille colorée) :
N.B. : j'ai proposé spontanément à Hub Dot d'écrire ce billet ; les liens ne sont pas sponsorisés et je ne touche aucune commission pour mes écrits. C'est un coup de cœur et des convictions que je vous livre en toute liberté ici, dans cet espace de parole et de partage qu'est ce blog pour moi depuis des années.
Friday, April 7, 2017
Le jardin du silence {Page-Turner}
Dans le monde des livres d’un genre nouveau que j’appréhende peu à peu, une jeune pousse a percé la terre, est arrivée jusqu’à moi : délicate, sensible et fragile, elle s’est posée sur ma table de nuit, à la lumière de ma liseuse.
Sa découverte a été un écrin de bonheur, cet hiver : alors que je me posais chez Les Petits Mots Bleus pour apprécier un chocolat chaud, les murs m’appellent soudain. Quelques étagères bien disposées mettent en valeur des ouvrages, les uns derrière les autres, de tous styles, de toutes les couleurs : je tends la main, en saisis un, puis un autre et puis… Tout ce qui compte en cet Instant - Journal de mon Jardin zen par Joshin Luce Bachoux.
Ne s’agissant pas là d’une bibliothèque, je comprends bien que si le personnel du salon de thé me laisse aimablement le feuilleter, je ne peux l’emprunter. Soit, je l’achète, intriguée par l’auteure, la couverture, le titre… Tout cet univers qui semble m’appeler, m’attirer et m’inciter à dépasser la lisière de la forêt pour en explorer le cœur.
L’auteure est une nonne bouddhiste qui anime “La Demeure Sans Limites”, un lieu de retraite et repos, réflexion et introspection, un temple zen dans la nature. Déjà, son profil me surprend : je n’ai jamais lu les mots d’une nonne bouddhiste. Qu’a-t-elle à me révéler ? Ou à cacher peut-être ? Quelle est cette demeure où j’ai soudain envie d’ouvrir toutes les fenêtres et portes pour m’y installer et respirer un air plus doux, plus cristallin, plus vrai ?
A l’heure où j’ai besoin de calme, réflexion et écoute plus que jamais, ne venez pas me parler de hasard ou de destin dans le choix de cet ouvrage, au milieu de tant d’autres, pour petits et grands, que j’ai regardés, lus en travers, caressés, contemplés un instant, puis reposés dans ce salon de thé, un jour en ville.
Ce journal, m’a semblé incontournable, amical, chaleureux et intimiste ; ne racontons-nous pas tout à notre journal ? Presque tout et c’est déjà une preuve bien assez forte d’altruisme et de confiance en soi et en ses lecteurs.
Ce jardin zen me fait de l’œil. Je ne saurais véritablement vous dire pourquoi étant donné que nous sommes célèbres dans la famille pour avoir fait sécher sur pied un cactus. A moins que ce ne soit justement pour cette raison qu’il m’appelle à lui ! Il a le sens de l’humour, ce journal…
Le jardin dans son sens plus large, celui visible par-delà la fenêtre, au-delà de la clôture et dans notre for intérieur. Il faut le soigner, le bichonner même en lui apportant les bons nutriments pour le faire pousser et grandir. Ça me parle tout ça et au diable le cactus du passé.
L’envie me prends donc de partager avec vous quelques phrases, perles de rosée matinale, feuilles séchées qui craquent sous les pieds… De vous inviter à voir ce jardin évoluer au rythme des saisons, d’envisager votre propre retraite spirituelle où bon vous semble ; un moment de pause, d’émerveillement.
“Nous participons du renouveau de la nature et le silence qui peu à peu s’est infiltré dans nos gestes, nos paroles et notre esprit, signifie peut-être qu’il est un temps pour recevoir et absorber avant de reprendre l’activité coutumière.” p. 115
“Qu’y a-t-il à écouter ? Le silence, le merveilleux silence de la montagne.”
p. 146
“Ce moment éphémère comme la rosée du matin de printemps, comme un sourire, disparaîtra ; pourtant chacune de ces rencontres, aussi brève soit-elle, tisse le lien entre nous et les autres, indispensable à notre équilibre et à notre bonheur.” p. 163
“Retour à la Demeure, retour à la ferme grise et blanche du plateau ardéchois après quelques semaines entre Marseille et Paris. Le premier plaisir du retour (…) est d’écouter le silence, silence d’hiver entrecoupé de bourrasques de vent qui font filer les nuages.” p. 169
“Devant ce paysage, il me vient à l’esprit un terme du vocabulaire bouddhique, mette : cela signifie l’affection, la bienveillance, l’amitié protectrice. Je comprends ce mot, en fait, surtout à travers le geste : consoler un enfant, donner un verre d’eau à un assoiffé, tenir la main d’une personne qui va mourir.” p. 209
“Car le vrai silence n’est pas la non-parole - mail il dépend de l’intérieur : lorsque nos pensées cessent de s’agiter en tous sens, lorsque nous sommes attentifs à nos gestes et à tout ce qui nous entoure, notre esprit s’ouvre à tous les petits bruits du monde qui nous échappent le reste du temps. Le silence nous accompagne, nous porte, il est le repos de l’âme et du corps.” p. 227
Au travers de ces 6 citations choisies, je souhaite vous faire voyager un peu, beaucoup, passionnément en vous-mêmes. Je n’ai pas perdu le nord, non ; je l’ai juste retrouvé, dirons-nous, recentré même. Il ne s’agit pas d’égoïsme, comme on a pu me le dire sans ambages ; il s’agit justement de s’ouvrir aux autres en empruntant de nouveaux chemins et la lecture, une fois encore, est venue à ma rescousse grâce à ce petit recueil qui me fait penser au Grand Orchestre des Animaux et tant d’autres découvertes liées au monde qui nous entoure, à son silence retentissant et surtout son enrichissant dialogue accessible à ceux qui savent… se taire, un instant.
Photo : Adobe Spark (modifiée par TheDaydreamer)
Friday, March 10, 2017
Forgotten On The Sand Island {Discover}
The wild and noisy carnival parade was going on in the streets of Bordeaux, paralyzing its transportation network. Ignoring the craziness and taking advantage of the fact that the first Sunday of the month the city museums are free, I walked with a dear friend and her children all the way to the Musée d’Aquitaine, our final destination on a rather overcast day.
The illustrated poster hanging from the façade announced an exhibition on Tromelin, the island of forgotten slaves in the Indian Ocean. Bordeaux has an intimate history with slavery - a painful and shameful past it does not like to boast even though it is at the roots of its economic power and identity. It is all the more surprising and encouraging to notice that local museums make a point of informing visitors about this chapter of the city’s story and economic development.
Another reason encouraged me to to visit the exhibition: years ago I read a book by French author Irène Frain, Les Naufragés de l’île Tromelin. This haunting book speaks of a group of slaves abandoned on a forlorn island, lied to and left to their own devices for 15 years. Before even going into the details of the Bordeaux exhibition, I would like to tell you that this is a book to read, one that will engrave words, images and feelings in your mind. Strangely enough, I have not found the book in the museum library the day of my visit… It is also true that I have lacked the time and focus to linger there…
The Bordeaux Musée d’Aquitaine is a classy yet unpretentious building; it warmly welcomes you in a light filled hall where you can grab for free a guide to the exhibition and even an activity book for children. From then on, we plunge into an incredible sea voyage and perilous human story: the French trade vessel Utile set sail from the city of Bayonne on the south western coast of France in 1760 to reach the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean.
Beautifully crafted and spacious wooden tables, barrels and wood engravings guide the visitor through the contents of the ship holds - so many produces traveling on high seas for months, from one continent to the other: textiles, spices, biscuits, wine, oats, preserved meat and even live cattle.
The itinerary of the exhibition is clearly indicated and visitors circulate quite smoothly despite the crowd. We managed to read, admire, draw, imagine, dream and exchange ideas quite peacefully.
In some of the rooms, visitors can leaf through the fascinating pages of Savoia’s illustrated album. The talented illustrator accompanied one of the recent excavations and research teams during an entire month on the island. The drawings and dialogues infuse the dramatic story with humanity; the slaves come alive through the eyes of one of the girls who survived the shipwreck and was saved by Tromelin himself.
On the route to its final destination, the Utile vessel stopped in Madagascar to embark Madagascan slaves - an extremely lucrative and fraudulent activity for the captain and his crew. What they had not counted on though, is that in 1671, the ship tragically sank trapped at night in the treacherous waters and sand banks of the ocean. Stranded on a deserted island recalling Polynesian motus, the 210 survivors - slaves included - built a boat with one idea in mind: escaping.
Too small to welcome everyone on board, the makeshift boat left without the slaves in the end. Seen as inferior and less valuable beings given the circumstances, they were abandoned with the promise of sending back another ship to save them.
Lies, then now and forever.
How did people uprooted from their land, environment, and families to be traded before being shamelessly abandoned to certain death have managed to nourish their hopes and sanity on Tromelin island? How have they acted and resisted against the elements - storms, lack of shade and water for 15 years?
Yes, 15 long, perilous, cruel years. 15 years of freedom too. Free slaves. How darkly ironic.
The first excavation to document the tragedy of the Utile and its men was launched in 2006 - so incredibly late don’t you think? - and from then on underwater and land research teams unveiled the incredible secret and details of the slaves’ social community and organisation on the island. Aside from the strictly practical side of their lives - recycling, crafting kitchen utensils, building village walls and a brick oven - what the findings show is that the castaways’ first need was to ensure their own protection, to join forces to be stronger, to share their knowledge and skills and to understand their environment to turn it to their advantage. What is amazing, is the need and drive to form a social structure to be able to make decisions, find food, cook, share food, strategize to live, preserve traditions, and rituals such as burials and even become inventive!
Across the centuries, the message still rings true: society can most certainly be a ruthless grinding machine. Let’s acknowledge also its duality through its power as an agent of change, hope and strength.
Fifteen years after the shipwreck, eight castaways - seven women and an eight-month old baby - imagine, a birth! - were saved by Lieutenant Tromelin. The island was named as a tribute to the man.
At least one man kept the promise.
Credits: StockSnap & TheDaydreamer
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
What's in a Handshake {Discover}
It is incredible how much unsuspected good can stem from a negative situation, after what seems an eternal battle with myself and society at large. Trying to extract myself from the current psychological quagmire, I have followed the advice of a person I trust, someone who’s been by my side, heard every story there is to hear and who’s guided me right where I was afraid of going, for my own good, that is.
That’s how I found myself on the doorstep of a yoga teacher who also specializes in ayurvedic massages. I could have checked what these were before making the appointment and taking the tram to get there on time. But hey, I do enjoy surprises and I had a hunch this one was going to make it to the top of the epiphany list.
I was right. The moment the teacher, called Magali, opened the door, a strong smell of spices and herbs embraced me, pulled me inside the white entrance and wrapped me in a warm fog. I had to take my coat, scarf, gloves and whatnot off in no time given the temperature in the room. It felt as if the sun was rising on the beach. The lady who welcomed me called me using my first name - familiar, yet respectful since she took my extended hand and literally held it into her two warm hands for a few seconds. More than what we’re accustomed too. Her handshake was firm but positive and benevolent. I could sense it, together with a flow of energy unknown to me.
Her dark gaze was piercing, straight, lively yet kind: she was not judging like most stares who scan you from head to toe in Total Recall style. Her black eyes stood out against the white radiance of her shirt and the surrounding walls. What’s in a handshake, you may ask?
Pretty much someone’s world. I felt instantly welcome, hugged and understood. The moment she started explaining that ayurvedic massages are part of the holistic ayurveda therapy that listens and speaks to the mind and body, I gathered that this could finally be the right person at the right time for me.
Our meeting started with a dialogue. Comments, questions and answers and silences. At the end, she devised a massage session with herb-infused oils based on our conversation; my fears, my hopes, my present, my past… Obviously, that’s a lot, but unless you start somewhere, you’ll never get anywhere, I guess. So I opened up to the massage and the meditation session before it - yoga nidra.
This is a kind of sleep meditation that leads you to a semi sleep state while being guided by the voice of the teacher. Magali used repetitions and visualisation for our session. Visualization works beautifully with me since my mind can seamlessly view what’s being said - hypnosis also uses this technique and that too worked wonders with me years ago. Slowly but surely, my mind was resting and surrendering to a slower pace, shifting its focus from negative, unrelenting thoughts to an effortless visualisation of each part of my body, the ground and my roots in the earth. At the end of the 1-hour session, the teacher asked me to choose a sankalpa.
A sankalpa is a statement that I can call upon whenever needed to remind myself of where I want to go, what my purpose or desire is and who I am. Needless to say that for someone like me who does not like the term “resolution” this is a blessing: there’s no ego involved, no grinding efficiency involved or someone else’s needs, but a greater scale intention. The sankalpa is who I am, and my choices aligned with my destination. Every step of the way should make me progress towards the final desire.
Now tell me, have you ever tried yoga? What type of yoga? Does a sankalpa work for you? I am new to this world and yet, I feel like I’ve known it forever. Why do you think that is? Could it be because it’s leading me to discover something that was always inside me? This need to dig deeper, get in touch with the ground, its healing and feeding force?
What’s in a handshake.
Credits: Pinkpot (edited by TheDaydreamer)
Friday, January 20, 2017
Beating Heart {Page-Turner}
Having noticed how happy my kids are (thank you) and how much they enjoying expressing their happiness screaming their heads off and unscrewing my ears and sanity to throw it away in the nearest bin, I have come to relish silence. Silence.
More than ever, I enjoy the quiet that falls on the house in the evening, once everyone is sleeping and I can push my own roots into the ground, feel the vital energy of the earth. To be honest, I always have, just even more so now that home is so full of life, to put it mildly. Finally, I can gather my thoughts - and everybody else’s mess around the place en passant - and try to think clearly.
During one of my quick visits in the children literature section at the Librairie Mollat - the temple of my silences and book addiction - I found a small Montessori book in the Bébé Balthazar collection: Ecoute le Silence. A book by Marie-Hélène Place telling you how to listen to silence.
Maria Montessori is the Italian woman behind the pedagogy and philosophy of children’s education, as well as the first woman doctor in Italy. Her method of education is focused on bringing parents and children together on the path of learning and on leveraging each child’s full potentials and stages of development and growth. According to her, teachers are guides who should encourage and show the way through love, respect, dignity and acceptance, leaving aside all temptation to judge.
The book format is handy: small, made of thick pages that even my youngest daughter can handle easily, no need to ask for my help in turning the pages. The illustrations by talented illustrator Caroline Fontaine Riquier are a pleasure to look at, always: delicate, they do not overfill the page but tend to focus on the characters and their expressions, causing no interferences.
The story is about being silent and discovering the riches that surround you. If you are silent, my child, you will be able to listen to the wind, to the fluttering wings of a butterfly, to the waves… Not everything is about you expressing yourself; it’s essential to learn to listen to be able to actually learn and grow - two of my favorite verbs.
On one of the pages, the young audience is prompted to listen to the beating heart of the reader - mine, in that instance.
I wish I’d filmed the scene: both my daughters were in awe of the sound coming out of my chest. The heart actually makes noise?! And from there, the game began: they took turns in listening to their hearts and then let’s call daddy and see if he’s got a beating heart too… Well, we’ve been listening to every single heart you can imagine by now.
What’s in it for them? Discovery, mindfulness and awareness that beyond the surface, there’s a whole world begging to be discovered, waiting for your ears, eyes and mind to open up and acknowledge it. Hearts beat everywhere, and letting someone listen to yours is welcoming a fellow soul, intimately getting to know the other and his/her vital rhythm.
“In your silence - when there are no words, no language, nobody else is present - you are getting in tune with existence.”
— Osho
Credits:
#1: DeathToTheStockPhoto (edited by TheDaydreamer)
#2 + #3: TheDaydreamer
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
The Inconstant Gardener {Look Around}
We let a cactus die. A cactus. This tells you just how good we are at taking care of plants. This sounds all the more dramatic as I am truly a nature lover, from plants to animals and - why not - pebbles and sand. How did the poor cactus die? We just did not water it, thinking that a desert-like environment would suit its needs just fine. Blissful ignorance has its perks and… its disadvantages too.
Now that we have moved and are back to what could resemble our Dutch way of life, much closer to nature, with a patio and all, we are willing to give it another try. The patio still looks pretty empty and lonely at the moment, with a banana tree that humbly bowed its darkened leaves to the ground the minute the cold, the real stuff, showed up. Still, thrilled by the southern sun and the hundred possibilities it offers, we joined an ambitious, volunteering project: 100 Jardiniers or 100 Gardeners, if you wish.
The not-for-profit event was promoted in the Bordeaux area by a new acquaintance who invited us to join the project, ordering online some bushes, trees or aromatics to plant in an unkept field as a way to infuse it with new life. The day chosen to plant was a cold December Sunday. One of those mystic days shrouded in a fog so thick and grey that we could not even imagine the limits of the field, the road, the fences... On this kind of day you are happy to be out and about with kindred souls, labouring the earth, drinking hot tea or coffee from a thermos, meeting new faces, exchanging advice, learning new terms (mallet anyone?) questions and answers. Words, smiles and stories surrounded us.
The project was a way to redeem ourselves while showing the kids that you can be outdoor in winter, closer to nature, sweating to dig the precious hole for your tree-to-be and discovering your boundaries and the cycle of life. Does this sound like too much in one go? Kids have few limits, or so I find. After having tried to explain how and why people die, when and how they reach the stars in the sky to shine forever by their side, we thought that showing them the cycle of life by planting something in a given spot, preparing the ground for it, watching it grow, yield fruit, then wither and start over would be an easy, instinctive way of speaking of life, death and rebirth.
We have chosen to plant a pear and a cherry tree and we should be able to pick the fruit in different seasons, turning the pages of the seasonal cycle too, whether it be for humans or for trees. My secret hope is that my eldest daughter will then stop asking for strawberries in the fall… I have accompanied the field experience with a book that is a regular bedtime read for us: Nos Saisons (Our Seasons) by Caroline Pellissier and Virginie Aladjidi, illustrated by Emmanuelle Tchoukriel.
As a family, and despite our clumsiness, we all enjoyed the hard work in the field, and the contemplation it involved; we were rewarded by new friendships, closer ties with acquaintances and our first ever winter picnic: we unfolded the blankets and the tables, opened bottles and tasted duck hearts grilled on the improvised BBQ under the watchful eyes of sheep and horses.
The fog slowly lifted that day. Sun rays came through to grant much needed encouragements. There’s no doubt - if ever there was one - that a campfire, homemade food, a few drinks and a crowd of volunteers is a rallying experience to cherish.
It felt like going back to the essential, soul binding gatherings that foster oral traditions, legends and discoveries. We all went back to nature’s roots and back to our own tribal, primordial roots. Isn't this part of a healing and reinvention process when you move, change lifestyle, city, social networks? Doesn't this alone show that we are social animals; we define the group, but more than anything else we need to be in the group, to find our place and space to be able to feel fulfilled.
In the spring we shall go there again to check on the trees we planted and nature will tell us her full story, I am sure.
Credits: Love & Light on The Creative Market (edited by TheDaydreamer)