My Young Man is Home

Well, two months just flew by and my 18 year old son has returned from his adventures in Europe. Things went extremely well, aside from a snafu on the last day of his trip, but even that got sorted out and my young man came home on two flights that were so on time, he was actually in the arrival area looking for us by the time we got there.

Of course, I'm relieved to see him, and all in all, I was not a total mess at all while he was away. We kept in touch via Facebook and he always gave us the address of the hostels he stayed at. This was not just a safety precaution: it was also a way for me to enjoy his travels a little bit without actually getting on a plane and going to Europe myself. The secret? Google street view. With the name of the hostel, I could look it up on Google maps, then go to "street view" and take a virtual walk around the neighbourhood. It was wonderful.

My son was in Paris, Munich, Berlin, Prague, Warsaw, Cracow, Auschwitz (which he called harrowing--probably the perfect word to describe it), Florence, Rome, Nice and Amsterdam. By the time he got home, he was royally tired of living out of a backpack, though not happy to have to leave Europe. I think he'll go back, probably to France, for his 3rd year of university in September 2016. I will again be totally jealous and thrilled that he'll have that amazing opportunity.

In the meantime, I'm counting the days until the spring of 2015 when my husband and I are planning to spend a month in Paris during his sabbatical. As long as my health holds up (between now and then, I'm getting a knee replacement though I don't have the exact date), I will be celebrating spring in Paris, my favourite city in the world.

Women and Body Image

This youtube video is quite extraordinary. Watch it!

Today He Is a Man

In Jewish tradition, a boy has his bar mitzvah at the age of 13. Once he has had his bar mitzvah, he is considered a man--and this probably was very true back in the days when my ancestors lived in ancient Palestine, tilling the land, eating figs and tending goats.

Today, of course, at least in the Western world, a boy aged 13--whether or not he has had a bar mitzvah--is probably only just getting around his home town on his own. And if he lives in an area not served by public transit, he's still counting on a parent or older sibling to drive him where he needs to go. He's still got about 4-5 years left before finishing high school and he probably doesn't know how to make much more than a peanut butter and jam sandwich. A man? You must be joking.

But today, my 18 year old son is becoming a man. As I write this, he's sitting in a window seat in the plane on his way to Paris. He'll be travelling for two months, mostly with a couple of his best buddies, but he starts his trip on his own for a few days in Paris. He'll then head to Munich and from there, well, we don't know yet. He'll just make up his mind as he goes. The guys are planning to spend the last two weeks of November in Amsterdam and my son will then travel back to Paris and take the plane home.

My son is fairly resourceful and aware of his surroundings. He's been travelling around our large city on his own since he was about 12. For the past month, he's been training in Krav Maga, an Israeli self-defence technique. I certainly hope he'll never have to use it. He speaks French and English and he's quite a personable young man. My logical brain tells me he'll be fine. The mom in me worries.

I also have to admit that I'm more than slightly jealous of my boy. As we were walking through the airport with him, my husband joked that the greatest danger he was in was from me bopping him over the head, stealing his ticket and getting on the plane myself! Not entirely untrue ;).

So give a thought to my marvellous D. and his many adventures. May he come home a man, safe and brimming with adventures--not all of which he will tell his mom and dad!

Words to Ponder

"If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future. If you are at peace, you are living in the present." -- Lao Tsu

Such simple words, but--at least for me--oh so hard to put into practice.

I continue to flounder, searching for my purpose, my "present".

The "Médium's" Advice

Last week I had coffee with a colleague to talk about some issues that affect our profession. We're both involved in our professional association and we're planning some promotional activities together.

But before we got into talking business, we had our own little "meet and greet" since we don't actually know each other that well. I asked him how he got into our profession and he responded with a long and interesting story--at least it was interesting for someone like me, who's in the same field.

There was, however, one thing he said that really struck me, and that perhaps might interest a wider readership:

Back many years ago, my friend was at a crossroads in his professional life and he knew he needed to make a major change. He knew someone who was, as he said in French, a "médium". Yes, it's the same in English: a medium.

As I type this, I can imagine my husband--a scientist and a confirmed atheist--rolling his eyes. And honestly, I wouldn't blame him. Oh, BTW, I am a confirmed agnostic: no one will ever succeed in convincing me that God really does or doesn't exist. You can't fabricate belief. Either you have it or you don't. I just think that, as Shakespeare had Hamlet say in the eponymous play, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

So, back to the medium...

Basically, the medium told my friend that he should ask for guidance every night before going to sleep. Simple as that. He was not telling my friend to consult the "spirits", the "long-departed" or anyone else, for that matter. He was suggesting that my friend open up his mind to his own subconscious world--actually to his own wisdom-- in order to find the answer. This idea really struck a chord with me.

Now that I'm there myself, I realize that the "mid-life crisis" is not an invention of the media or advertisers. I'm feeling it very strongly myself. It has manifested itself in many ways in my life, the most recent and frightening being my Graves disease relapse, which did a huge number on my self-esteem and indeed my relationship with reality. The Graves is under control, but the feeling that I need to make a big shift is still there.

So now, every night as I go to sleep, I'm asking for guidance. I'm not asking anyone in particular (well, sometimes I speak to my late mother...). I'm just asking to find my way. Any results? Definitely too early to tell. This will probably take a long time and results will probably be in no way related to my nightly request. Who the heck knows. I just want a change.

Pictures from Paris!

I now realize that I really didn't take enough pictures while I was in Paris, but here are a few of my favourites!

Couldn't resist this bit of graffitti:

The entrance to the apartment building where I was staying. My little studio apartment was on the top floor, above what you see here:

On every landing, there was a chair to either rest on, or rest your groceries on:

This is a photo of the staircase, taken from the very top of the building, on "my" floor. Every day, at least three to four times a day, I would walk up five flights of stairs. Each flight was 19-22 stairs. Quite the the number of stairs, but actually not too bad. The building dated from the 18th century, a time when people were about my height, so the stairs were rather low and made of beautiful wood, which is very forgiving and easy on one's back:

This is a view of the inner courtyard of my building, taken from the fourth floor. I was on the fifth floor, in a studio apartment that only had skylights for windows, much like the two skylights you see here:

I couldn't resist this photo either. The store's name is  a combination of my two sons' names. Weird.

Most of Paris was rebuilt by urban planner, Baron Haussmann, in the mid-19th century.  Very little of medieval Paris remains, but I did find these two houses, which, according to the plaque on the wall, were built in the 14th century! I found them about 10 minutes walk from my street:

Not surprisingly, there are many plaques on buildings in Paris, noting famous people who lived or died there, famous events that took place or, in this case, a terrible and fairly recent event that should never be forgotten. It reads as follows: "In memory of the little children at this pre-school who were deported from 1942 to 1944 because they were born Jewish, innocent victims of Nazi barbarity with the active complicity of the Vichy government. They were exterminated in the death camps. May they never be forgotten."

Just a little street not far from where I was staying:

The inner courtyard at the Musée Carnavalet, the museum of the history of Paris:

Pinned to the wall of a restaurant: "Friendship is making love without touching one another."

Scene from one of the bridges that crosses the Seine:

It's pretty clear why I want to go back!!

Machinations

I continue to suffer terrible withdrawal symptoms from my trip to Paris. I have trouble thinking about anything else but how to get back there as soon as possible and for as long a time as possible.

The "as soon as possible" part is probably not going to go all that well. It's a long way from home, it's a lot of money, we have to work, tra la la. However, the "as long as possible" part might possibly see the light of day.

In August of 2014, my husband will be on a one-year sabbatical from work, with 80% of his salary. He has to produce some research during that year, but he can go/stay wherever he wants. In September 2014, our younger son will be starting university (this year, he's doing a gap year that includes two months in Europe followed by more or less full-time work) and we'd like to be around during his crucial first year of university. However, by May 2015, he'll have completed his first year (successfully, we hope) while, by that time, older brother will have completed his third year. On May 3, 2015, we will be celebrating our 23rd year of wedded bliss (OK, there have been ups and downs, but the overall balance sheet is very positive) and we're thinking that a great way to celebrate would be to spend the entire month of May in Paris, the city where we honeymooned in May 1992.

Hubby will be able to work on his sabbatical project and I will be able to do the odd translation via the Internet and just hang out in my favourite place in the world, reading French books, going to French movies and generally taking a bain de français à tous les jours ("a bath of French every day"). If I'm lucky, maybe I'll even be able to sit in on some conferences with colleagues and get a feel for the freelance market in Paris, though there wouldn't be a hope in hell of my being able to actually work in Paris without jumping through hoops of fire, filling out interminable paperwork and then making a sacrifice or two to the interpretation gods.

So, now the countdown begins: only 21 months and two days...

P.S. I'll post some pictures as soon as I figure out how to download them en masse from my phone to my computer. Shouldn't be long.