Paris is an introvert.
She's that cousin you only see on holidays; the one who stands in the corner (wrapped in a massive scarf) with her wine glass and says no more than two words at a time.
Usually, the words are: "Oh, yes, I know about that." ("Ah, je le connaîs.")
She seems to know everything about every subject, but when pursued, a twinkle comes in her eye, like she's keeping a massive and beautiful secret, and she says no more.
"What is your secret? What IS it about you?" I have asked, many times. For three months, her reply has only been the twinkle.
But, this time, she winked, as to a confidante.
So what IS it about Paris?
... Sorry, I can't tell you. It's a secret. =)
~M~
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
métro zen
Salut mes amis! Ça va?
I ADORE taking the métro here in Paris. Yes, it's true. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. What's my secret?
Here, for your pleasure: "How To Achieve Zen On The Métro." =D
Step One: Know where you're going. That one's a given. If you have to stop to analyze the signs, you're going to disturb the zen.
Step Two: Get that Parisian pedestrian face on and traipse down those stairs like they aren't even there. Secretly congratulate yourself once you get to the bottom for not tripping and falling on your face.
Step Three: Keep your Navigo pass in a place where you don't have to fish it out to use it. Just put your whole bag on the sensor, let that little green light beep, and breeze straight through the gate without stopping. Again, secretly congratulate yourself.
Step Four: Look at all those people waiting for the next train! But don't panic! Calmly find the optimal position. It's usually down at the end of the platform; no one wants to walk all that way! Then, get as close to the track as it is safe and possible to be. If the whole track is lined with people, second best is right behind a snappy businessman. He is going to do everything possible to get on that next train, and will serve as an excellent "battering ram" for you.
Step Five: If you're close enough, enjoy the rush of sudden wind that the train will generate when it pulls up. Imagine you're in one of those old movies with the steam trains pulling up in the fog.
Step Six: Board the train. If it is REALLY crowded, this is harder than it sounds. Look for the open spaces, and know the magic word "Pardon!" Try to get yourself as far back into the car as you can, so that the people behind you won't push you. If you can, try to maneuver yourself into one of the optimal positions. An optimal position is anywhere that has a wall or folding chair behind you (and the back door counts as a wall; it never opens). Best of all is the chair right next to the door. Why are these best? If it is extremely crowded, you will not have to move when others disembark (and the closer you are to the door, the less you will have to push through people to disembark).
Step Seven: Have headphones on and let your music meld with the sounds of the métro. Quel musique? I'm glad you asked. You don't want true zen music, or you risk going to sleep. Nor do you want something too harsh. The point isn't to ESCAPE the métro by focusing on the music, but to find that place where the whole métro BECOMES the music. I usually pick something semi-repetitive with a defined dance beat. Like these:
http://youtu.be/gUzQtSLu_zI
http://youtu.be/TLqICjQRmC8
And if you're in a hurry, just increase the tempo a little bit, and you can still keep your zen: http://youtu.be/NoAtnJoSNHQ
While listening, notice how the periodic bleat of the "door closing" alarm perfectly fits the beat of the song you're listening to, or how the car ahead of you bumps up and down like a careening time machine, or how that harsh curve caused the lights to flicker like you're in the Twilight Zone, or how the reflections in the windows look like Impressionistic art. Find beauty in something. Pretend you're in a music video or a moving painting.
Step Eight: Exit the métro. Again, know the magic word "Pardon!" If you're at the far back corner of the car, make sure you start positioning yourself to leave before the train stops. Often, the people in front of you will notice and move before you even speak. (And, make sure you do this for others too! Watch for people who suddenly pick up their belongings, start intently peering over people's heads, or even just stand up a little straighter. With practice, the subtlest motions to leave can be easily noticed.)
Step Nine: Breeze through those hallways, seeking all the open spaces. Get up those stairs two by two. They are not the boss of you! Walk up escalators, if there are any. 'Force push' those automatic sorties open! Just let your legs carry you onward and upward, like that urban Tarzan you are!
Step Ten: Emerge into the sunlight with a contented sigh. Breathe in that crisp clear air. Let your face balloon into a gleeful smile. (Then quickly wipe it off and put that Parisian pedestrian face back on!)
There you have it. That's how I use the métro every day! How do YOU achieve zen in the mundane moments of your life?
Your friend, the aethernaut,
~M~
I ADORE taking the métro here in Paris. Yes, it's true. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. What's my secret?
Here, for your pleasure: "How To Achieve Zen On The Métro." =D
Step One: Know where you're going. That one's a given. If you have to stop to analyze the signs, you're going to disturb the zen.
Step Two: Get that Parisian pedestrian face on and traipse down those stairs like they aren't even there. Secretly congratulate yourself once you get to the bottom for not tripping and falling on your face.
Step Three: Keep your Navigo pass in a place where you don't have to fish it out to use it. Just put your whole bag on the sensor, let that little green light beep, and breeze straight through the gate without stopping. Again, secretly congratulate yourself.
Step Four: Look at all those people waiting for the next train! But don't panic! Calmly find the optimal position. It's usually down at the end of the platform; no one wants to walk all that way! Then, get as close to the track as it is safe and possible to be. If the whole track is lined with people, second best is right behind a snappy businessman. He is going to do everything possible to get on that next train, and will serve as an excellent "battering ram" for you.
Step Five: If you're close enough, enjoy the rush of sudden wind that the train will generate when it pulls up. Imagine you're in one of those old movies with the steam trains pulling up in the fog.
Step Six: Board the train. If it is REALLY crowded, this is harder than it sounds. Look for the open spaces, and know the magic word "Pardon!" Try to get yourself as far back into the car as you can, so that the people behind you won't push you. If you can, try to maneuver yourself into one of the optimal positions. An optimal position is anywhere that has a wall or folding chair behind you (and the back door counts as a wall; it never opens). Best of all is the chair right next to the door. Why are these best? If it is extremely crowded, you will not have to move when others disembark (and the closer you are to the door, the less you will have to push through people to disembark).
Step Seven: Have headphones on and let your music meld with the sounds of the métro. Quel musique? I'm glad you asked. You don't want true zen music, or you risk going to sleep. Nor do you want something too harsh. The point isn't to ESCAPE the métro by focusing on the music, but to find that place where the whole métro BECOMES the music. I usually pick something semi-repetitive with a defined dance beat. Like these:
http://youtu.be/gUzQtSLu_zI
http://youtu.be/TLqICjQRmC8
And if you're in a hurry, just increase the tempo a little bit, and you can still keep your zen: http://youtu.be/NoAtnJoSNHQ
While listening, notice how the periodic bleat of the "door closing" alarm perfectly fits the beat of the song you're listening to, or how the car ahead of you bumps up and down like a careening time machine, or how that harsh curve caused the lights to flicker like you're in the Twilight Zone, or how the reflections in the windows look like Impressionistic art. Find beauty in something. Pretend you're in a music video or a moving painting.
Step Eight: Exit the métro. Again, know the magic word "Pardon!" If you're at the far back corner of the car, make sure you start positioning yourself to leave before the train stops. Often, the people in front of you will notice and move before you even speak. (And, make sure you do this for others too! Watch for people who suddenly pick up their belongings, start intently peering over people's heads, or even just stand up a little straighter. With practice, the subtlest motions to leave can be easily noticed.)
Step Nine: Breeze through those hallways, seeking all the open spaces. Get up those stairs two by two. They are not the boss of you! Walk up escalators, if there are any. 'Force push' those automatic sorties open! Just let your legs carry you onward and upward, like that urban Tarzan you are!
Step Ten: Emerge into the sunlight with a contented sigh. Breathe in that crisp clear air. Let your face balloon into a gleeful smile. (Then quickly wipe it off and put that Parisian pedestrian face back on!)
There you have it. That's how I use the métro every day! How do YOU achieve zen in the mundane moments of your life?
Your friend, the aethernaut,
~M~
Monday, October 3, 2011
little joys
Joined Polyvore =) Here's one of the aesthetics of Paris:
I'm making a list of the little joys I'm discovering while in Paris.
On the Métro...
#1. Swinging aboard like an urban Tarzan right as the doors are about to close.
#2. Finding that ONE station where that whole crowd around you decides to get off.
#3. Pretending to "force push" the automatic 'sorties' open.
#4. When you know the route so well that you don't have to look for the signs anymore... and can keep reading G.K. Chesterton instead.
#5. Letting the sounds of the rails on the tracks merge with the Kraftwerk music playing through your earphones.
#6. Finishing that one last level of "Cut the Rope" with a magnificent flick of your fingers WHILE exiting at the correct stop.
#7. That gypsy accordion player at the far end of your car.
#8. Watching the car ahead of you bump up and down like a prototype time machine.
#9. When the train makes such a sharp turn that the lights start to flicker as if you've veered into the Twilight Zone.
Being there...
#1. When your iPod automatically shuffles to JUST THE RIGHT SONG for that spot you're in.
#2. Getting to an appointment late, then realizing, "OH! I forgot... that meeting was actually TOMORROW!"
#3. When you find that perfect view (or picture) completely by accident.
#4. The day you realize that the hot chocolate in the vending machine is only 30 cents.
#5. Walking past a boulangerie early enough in the morning to smell the bread baking.
#6. Singing in French... and realizing you know the song!
#7. Walking by a church just as the bells chime.
#8. Walking into a huge cathedral like Notre Dame right as Mass is starting.
#9. Enjoying an omelette at a café... then noticing that some tourist is taking a picture of the café you're sitting at.
#10. Realizing that Montmartre is just as nice with tourists as without.
#11. Learning a new word without looking it up in the dictionary... and using it correctly!
But you don't have to be in Paris to make a list of "little joys!" What are some of the little joys in YOUR life right now? =)
Your friendly corresponding aethernaut,
M
I'm making a list of the little joys I'm discovering while in Paris.
On the Métro...
#1. Swinging aboard like an urban Tarzan right as the doors are about to close.
#2. Finding that ONE station where that whole crowd around you decides to get off.
#3. Pretending to "force push" the automatic 'sorties' open.
#4. When you know the route so well that you don't have to look for the signs anymore... and can keep reading G.K. Chesterton instead.
#5. Letting the sounds of the rails on the tracks merge with the Kraftwerk music playing through your earphones.
#6. Finishing that one last level of "Cut the Rope" with a magnificent flick of your fingers WHILE exiting at the correct stop.
#7. That gypsy accordion player at the far end of your car.
#8. Watching the car ahead of you bump up and down like a prototype time machine.
#9. When the train makes such a sharp turn that the lights start to flicker as if you've veered into the Twilight Zone.
Being there...
#1. When your iPod automatically shuffles to JUST THE RIGHT SONG for that spot you're in.
#2. Getting to an appointment late, then realizing, "OH! I forgot... that meeting was actually TOMORROW!"
#3. When you find that perfect view (or picture) completely by accident.
#4. The day you realize that the hot chocolate in the vending machine is only 30 cents.
#5. Walking past a boulangerie early enough in the morning to smell the bread baking.
#6. Singing in French... and realizing you know the song!
#7. Walking by a church just as the bells chime.
#8. Walking into a huge cathedral like Notre Dame right as Mass is starting.
#9. Enjoying an omelette at a café... then noticing that some tourist is taking a picture of the café you're sitting at.
#10. Realizing that Montmartre is just as nice with tourists as without.
#11. Learning a new word without looking it up in the dictionary... and using it correctly!
But you don't have to be in Paris to make a list of "little joys!" What are some of the little joys in YOUR life right now? =)
Your friendly corresponding aethernaut,
M
Thursday, September 22, 2011
enfant de la moyen âge
I took a long journey to get here. Kind of like acclimatizing to get to the top of Everest.
Base Camp: London, England. Oh, how I love that town. It's in constant motion, yet is constantly still, like a little star that manages to shimmer in the same place while zipping by at hundreds of thousands of miles per hour. "Mind the gap," but "keep calm and carry on." Though the sky is covered in clouds, all the Londoners sit in the sun.
A bit higher up the mountain: Brussels, Belgium. A bit protective; it's in motion behind closed doors, like a clock pendulum behind glass. But find the sweet spot, and you'll hear the most joyous singing and boisterous laughter, even at the most absurd things. It's no wonder the national symbol is a statue of a little boy peeing. It's overflowing with the old, traditional things, so it strives to be brand-new, but so far, the old is what's staying, with both beautiful results and difficult ones.
Which brings me to my new home for the next couple of months: Paris, France.
A city throbbing to the beat of the new and now, it's a perfect picture of the 21st century. But the monuments of the past still loom large, bringing color to every part of the city. It's a hundred-year-old teenager, with a half-forgotten scapular around its neck and an iPhone pressed to its ear. When I'm here, I'm a time-traveler from the Middle Ages: culturally inept and awkward, half-speaking the same language, full of an instinct to explore, quite young yet positively ancient.
"AND... loving it." =)
Base Camp: London, England. Oh, how I love that town. It's in constant motion, yet is constantly still, like a little star that manages to shimmer in the same place while zipping by at hundreds of thousands of miles per hour. "Mind the gap," but "keep calm and carry on." Though the sky is covered in clouds, all the Londoners sit in the sun.
A bit higher up the mountain: Brussels, Belgium. A bit protective; it's in motion behind closed doors, like a clock pendulum behind glass. But find the sweet spot, and you'll hear the most joyous singing and boisterous laughter, even at the most absurd things. It's no wonder the national symbol is a statue of a little boy peeing. It's overflowing with the old, traditional things, so it strives to be brand-new, but so far, the old is what's staying, with both beautiful results and difficult ones.
Which brings me to my new home for the next couple of months: Paris, France.
A city throbbing to the beat of the new and now, it's a perfect picture of the 21st century. But the monuments of the past still loom large, bringing color to every part of the city. It's a hundred-year-old teenager, with a half-forgotten scapular around its neck and an iPhone pressed to its ear. When I'm here, I'm a time-traveler from the Middle Ages: culturally inept and awkward, half-speaking the same language, full of an instinct to explore, quite young yet positively ancient.
"AND... loving it." =)
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
cold fog
hello universe!
"If I take one more step, I'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been." (Sam, The Lord of the Rings)
Arrived safe and sound in London Town. Utterly astonished (or should I say gobsmacked?) by the sheer... London-ness of it all. I realized rather quickly that I didn't really know London; I only knew about her... largely through whatever I could gather from Doctor Who. She's much more different than I expected, like a cold splash of water in the face, and yet, simultaneously, much more similar than I expected. I suppose that's the way all cities are, when comparing them to home.
Based on first impressions, she appears to be in constant flux, both physically and metaphysically... yet shadows of the past still cling on to the future, like the moss clinging to the brick-mortar flats that line the streets. Somehow, though, also like the moss, these shadows make the place even more beautiful. It isn't beautiful in a manicured Orange County sense... it is beautiful in the way a very old classic book is when you discover it hiding beneath a veil of dust. It invites.
May it invite more of us to discover its secrets. I'll let you know what more I learn.
your trusted aethernaut,
maggie
"If I take one more step, I'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been." (Sam, The Lord of the Rings)
Arrived safe and sound in London Town. Utterly astonished (or should I say gobsmacked?) by the sheer... London-ness of it all. I realized rather quickly that I didn't really know London; I only knew about her... largely through whatever I could gather from Doctor Who. She's much more different than I expected, like a cold splash of water in the face, and yet, simultaneously, much more similar than I expected. I suppose that's the way all cities are, when comparing them to home.
Based on first impressions, she appears to be in constant flux, both physically and metaphysically... yet shadows of the past still cling on to the future, like the moss clinging to the brick-mortar flats that line the streets. Somehow, though, also like the moss, these shadows make the place even more beautiful. It isn't beautiful in a manicured Orange County sense... it is beautiful in the way a very old classic book is when you discover it hiding beneath a veil of dust. It invites.
May it invite more of us to discover its secrets. I'll let you know what more I learn.
your trusted aethernaut,
maggie
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
launch
hello universe!
a new adventure beckons...
watch this space for updates as i venture out of my comfort zone (and my country) to seek beauty in Europe for a time.
somehow, I know that when I return I will be a different person, hopefully a better person, than I was before. more than anything, though, I pray that this journey will be a time of getting to know God better and deeper. how beautifully He's been working to send me to a place I only dreamed I'd go!
"What if it's not everything I dreamed it would be?"
"It will be."
"And what if it is? What do I do then?"
"Well, that's the good part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream."
(Tangled)
keep me in your prayers, and may the lessons I learn and share here be a blessing to you all.
until the communication satellites align again,
maggie
a new adventure beckons...
watch this space for updates as i venture out of my comfort zone (and my country) to seek beauty in Europe for a time.
somehow, I know that when I return I will be a different person, hopefully a better person, than I was before. more than anything, though, I pray that this journey will be a time of getting to know God better and deeper. how beautifully He's been working to send me to a place I only dreamed I'd go!
"What if it's not everything I dreamed it would be?"
"It will be."
"And what if it is? What do I do then?"
"Well, that's the good part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream."
(Tangled)
keep me in your prayers, and may the lessons I learn and share here be a blessing to you all.
until the communication satellites align again,
maggie
Friday, May 27, 2011
ladybug summer
if you didn't know this before, i love my hometown.
we're a small place, quiet and slow. the speed limit is just whatever it takes to recognize your neighbor and wave hello.
main street businesses open around 11am and close around 8, unless it's "shop-at-home" day. then it's 10.
on snowy winter days, all the neighbors band together to defeat the shadowy "snowplow-man" and his irksome "berms."
on memorial day weekend, at least half the townsfolk purge their closets and deposit their contents onto the street edges while the other half, along with the visitors from "down below," wanders the town for good deals and warm handshakes.
...and a magical thing happens when summer decides to arrive.
according to local legend, many years ago aphids plagued the greenery. it's difficult to grow things as it is in the dry mountain soil we've got, so this became quite the problem. no one thought of funky chemicals; no one would have agreed to it. instead, several large airplanes flew over the town, dropping thousands of tiny gifts from the sky: ladybugs. the beetle artillery gobbled up the aphids, and the town's greenery lived happily ever after. now, to this day, when the temperature begins to climb back into the seventies after long bouts of snowy frost, hundreds of these warriors' ancestors reawaken from winter slumber and fill the air, alighting on the sunbeams like fairies.
and guess what? today is that day. oh, joy of summer!
enjoy the hand-spun fairy sunshine today!
until you orbit by again,
maggie
we're a small place, quiet and slow. the speed limit is just whatever it takes to recognize your neighbor and wave hello.
main street businesses open around 11am and close around 8, unless it's "shop-at-home" day. then it's 10.
on snowy winter days, all the neighbors band together to defeat the shadowy "snowplow-man" and his irksome "berms."
on memorial day weekend, at least half the townsfolk purge their closets and deposit their contents onto the street edges while the other half, along with the visitors from "down below," wanders the town for good deals and warm handshakes.
...and a magical thing happens when summer decides to arrive.
according to local legend, many years ago aphids plagued the greenery. it's difficult to grow things as it is in the dry mountain soil we've got, so this became quite the problem. no one thought of funky chemicals; no one would have agreed to it. instead, several large airplanes flew over the town, dropping thousands of tiny gifts from the sky: ladybugs. the beetle artillery gobbled up the aphids, and the town's greenery lived happily ever after. now, to this day, when the temperature begins to climb back into the seventies after long bouts of snowy frost, hundreds of these warriors' ancestors reawaken from winter slumber and fill the air, alighting on the sunbeams like fairies.
and guess what? today is that day. oh, joy of summer!
enjoy the hand-spun fairy sunshine today!
until you orbit by again,
maggie
Thursday, January 13, 2011
(this space intentionally left blank)
an open letter to the enigmatic writer's bane known simply as the "blank page,"
apologies for dispensing with the normal pleasantries, but i do not want to waste time with you any longer. i have spent too much time skirting you, avoiding you, and hiding from you to allow myself to beat around the bush again.
at first, i believed that you really wanted me to succeed, but couldn't come to my aid due to "busyness" or various extraneous circumstances. i would sit with you, hoping to work harmoniously with you to create story, but your imposing figure and stoic stare usually scared me away. i would tell myself: "he can't be prevailed upon to help; he's much too busy" or "he'll be there when I get back; no need to start now" or, as things worsened, "I must not be important enough for him; he's got his hands full with the likes of Stephanie Meyer."
oh, how i deceived myself in the service of my own fear! and what are you, anyway? you do not speak, you do not actively make moves to destroy me, but i've seen through your ruse. that little smirk that spreads over your face when i walk away and you think i'm not looking; oh, yes, i've seen it.
surely you know of the story that has haunted me since childhood. a story that has never been written, only skirted; the story that i must write. for as long as i can remember, i've sought it; i've enjoyed other stories just because they catch a bit of this other.
but YOU have kept it from me. i've realized that you have a vested interest in keeping me from completing it. you've sent me off into dead ends, deploying every weapon at your disposal: "brain fog," deep distraction, gnawing self-doubt, jittery guilt, even the great and terrible Writer's Block isn't below serving your ends.
what have i ever done to you, blank page? ah, but as i ask that question, i answer myself: if my story is ever completed, it will surely destroy you. are you as afraid of me as i am of you? but, fear not, blank page, for as you are destroyed, something better will be born in your place. the power of a single story dwarfs you, and perhaps you know it.
i realize that you will not willingly engage with me in a peace treaty as long as the "story" haunts me. very well; then, as long as the "story" haunts me, i will not rest until i complete it and destroy you. don't act surprised; you knew i couldn't accept your vision of the world, blank page. for you would have us all cowering before you, imprisoned in ourselves, unable to look up and see the beautiful bigness of our created universe. but story, true story, always drives us to look up.
blank page, consider this the end of our toxic relationship... and the beginning of a better quest.
i sign this most sincerely and definitively,
maggie
apologies for dispensing with the normal pleasantries, but i do not want to waste time with you any longer. i have spent too much time skirting you, avoiding you, and hiding from you to allow myself to beat around the bush again.
at first, i believed that you really wanted me to succeed, but couldn't come to my aid due to "busyness" or various extraneous circumstances. i would sit with you, hoping to work harmoniously with you to create story, but your imposing figure and stoic stare usually scared me away. i would tell myself: "he can't be prevailed upon to help; he's much too busy" or "he'll be there when I get back; no need to start now" or, as things worsened, "I must not be important enough for him; he's got his hands full with the likes of Stephanie Meyer."
oh, how i deceived myself in the service of my own fear! and what are you, anyway? you do not speak, you do not actively make moves to destroy me, but i've seen through your ruse. that little smirk that spreads over your face when i walk away and you think i'm not looking; oh, yes, i've seen it.
surely you know of the story that has haunted me since childhood. a story that has never been written, only skirted; the story that i must write. for as long as i can remember, i've sought it; i've enjoyed other stories just because they catch a bit of this other.
but YOU have kept it from me. i've realized that you have a vested interest in keeping me from completing it. you've sent me off into dead ends, deploying every weapon at your disposal: "brain fog," deep distraction, gnawing self-doubt, jittery guilt, even the great and terrible Writer's Block isn't below serving your ends.
what have i ever done to you, blank page? ah, but as i ask that question, i answer myself: if my story is ever completed, it will surely destroy you. are you as afraid of me as i am of you? but, fear not, blank page, for as you are destroyed, something better will be born in your place. the power of a single story dwarfs you, and perhaps you know it.
i realize that you will not willingly engage with me in a peace treaty as long as the "story" haunts me. very well; then, as long as the "story" haunts me, i will not rest until i complete it and destroy you. don't act surprised; you knew i couldn't accept your vision of the world, blank page. for you would have us all cowering before you, imprisoned in ourselves, unable to look up and see the beautiful bigness of our created universe. but story, true story, always drives us to look up.
blank page, consider this the end of our toxic relationship... and the beginning of a better quest.
i sign this most sincerely and definitively,
maggie
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