Subtle Nature of Connection: France

Hello All,

I write this in a state of exhaustion after having traveled to the South of France where temperatures peaked yesterday at 95F and after being able to spend my first night in a real bed after 31 days of camping including 5 days of hitchhiking and wild camping. (A normal 6 Hour voyage via car can easily turn into a 3 Day journey when you rely on the generosity of the French drivers). Now I am at a place where I can dive deep into what transpired over the last three weeks as I start to decompress from an experience hard to describe with words. For the most part, I was able to thrive through my time in the middle of France at a Yoga Retreat and Resort with mostly Dutch participants. As a freeloading volunteer, awaiting news of future potential employment in the “real world” I biked, I made friends, I swam, I walked, I talked, I sung, I stared, I worked, I witnessed life pass me by with its easy nature and summer pace in what felt like the middle of nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Here I found many connections with people from all different walks of life: wanderers, seekers, nomads, vagabonds, workers, voyagers and many more as we shared our time, our smiles, and our energy with each other.

Since that moment, I have considered how we all are connected in some way. We all breathe the same air. We all drink the same water. We all bleed the same color of blood. Living and experiencing life in rural France at a Dutch resort with global volunteers while trying to learn a new language has given me a greater appreciation of the commonality of our greater shared experience. In particular, I remember how upon my arrival in Moulin D’ Orsennes,I began going to the café in the nearest town, Orsennes, every opportunity I could get in order to practice my French. There I became acquainted with the owners Jules and Mike. They had just bought the café very recently and I was astounded at their generosity and kindness to this random “American” dude trying to learn French in the middle of nowhere. It is one particular example, I won’t ever forget. It has given me a greater appreciation for the similar threads of people’s shared lives and in my own search for meaningful connection a greater appreciation for the deep, profound beauty of people’s souls.

In my time at the resort, I learned that the Dutch expression for a “shooting star” is falling star. A phrase with such deep and profound elegance like the very person who revealed it to me. Like falling stars, many times our desire for a deeper connection with someone we are attracted to vanish and burn akin to embers of a disappearing dream or simple trails of light across the deep expanse. In my own life these falling stars have created deep crevasses of sorrow and joy, of light and darkness, of pain and pleasure, of stress and relief that have taught me more about myself than I could ever learn from a book or discourse on living. To be acquainted with these crevasses is to be acquainted with oneself. To stare into these crevasses and have the “deep” stare back is part of one’s human experience. Like falling stars across the night sky, free-falling into these dark crevasses is instant. But for every dark crevasse, I have found, it’s important to remember the light does return. Maybe not now but at some point in the cycle of time the sun’s rays will find their way. Because the sun too is a star.

The journey continues…. in Cessnon Sur Orb, a small village North of Beziers with a population of roughly 2,500. Had you asked me five years ago that I would be here doing a gardening work exchange removing hordes of snails for lodging so that I could have a relaxed place to stay while learning French I would have considered it a cruel joke. Now that it is my reality, I have so much gratitude for the amount of development that has allowed me to radically accept this opportunity and time with open arms. The future is developing fast. It is developing at a rate that I should accept after having spent a significant amount of time in a period of metamorphosis. Yet at the same time it feels as if it always tries to detract from my present joy. I aim to breathe in the calm sense of serenity and release the pain that I know the future holds. I will not be here long, a week at the most, but soon will hopefully step into a role further related to that deep personal calling I had even as a small boy. To help others and allow myself to be used as a conduit for healing, an aide to relief for a world in pain in whatever small manner possible.

Deep Gratitude for all thoughts and prayers,

Your Intrepid Traveler,