Joy Takes the Subway
I don’t go to Paris often, but when I do, it seems I spend most of my time in the subway (métro). The younger crowd are all busy with their smartphones. Only the tourists keep an eye peeled, and for good reason. Everything is new, and moreover, better get off at the right station. Each subway car I entered on Tuesday had its beggar, and even some of those didn’t make any more eye contact with me than did the other travelers ; even they were in a hurry and preoccupied !
Can We «Let Go » All by Ourselves ?
I have a friend who’s gifted at psychological and spiritual counseling, and one of her favorite words is « let go ! » I’d love to, but it’s not that easy ! Can we manage to do it all by ourselves ? We hang on to our worries, our problems, our chagrin. Unconsciously, we may have the impression that they help to define us, to give us substance. They don’t, of course. Or perhaps we’d be delighted just to let go of them, but they’re obsessive and keep gate-crashing !
It’s as if we were dragging a heavy suitcase in the train station, crying out, « Please help me ! » and here’s a nice person who comes and picks it up for us, but our hand stays clenched on the handle.
There Goes My Teacher
Good grief, there goes that politician I can’t stand ! We hear some version of this every day these days, right ? In the US or in France, where I live. People’s fur is up and most are sure they have the right take on the situation, the person, the platform. I’m no different. But when I feel the roots of my hair rising (like my cat Kallie’s when she’s confronting that orange tabby in the backyard), I’m reminded of what the Buddhists advise us to think in such a case : not ˝There goes that & !;@* again˝, but ˝There goes my teacher.˝