Day 1


Image

This is the view from my place on a day they said it would rain all day, they didn’t know I was here!

I have arrived. I have gone to my first class. I am sitting in my apartment in France frankly in a state of disbelief.

Here’s something you might find interesting. Nobody really cares what you do as long as you are not complaining or taking something that doesn’t belong to you, or hurting someone who would rather you didn’t. There are so many people walking on the planet completely self involved they really have no time for thought of you. Interesting, oui! I walk by people who have lived in this town all of their lives and the lives of their families, they nod! You think I don’t know imagine that they are saying who is that woman with the silver hair who has no idea where she is at most of the time. They don’t ask, they don’t help, they just let me be and I search and find what I want. Perfect.

We as humans are more free than we actually think. The prison most of us are in is self imposed, now how does that ring your bell? Clanged mine pretty good. I have heard about prison and I can tell you I have not been there but I have built my own prisons and locked my own self inside of them all. I spent most of life convinced there was some kind of group watching dailies of my life with a running commentary. Not good enough, oh really can she not try harder, that kind of thing. In reality most people have their own running commentary and it goes like this; Why did I wear this?, I look fat,( no one sees you) Why is she looking at me do I have something in my teeth,(she can’t see well and thinks she knows you) when I go in that store those woman stare at me,( yeah you come in you don’t say anything there suppose to say something you look like you will take their heads off), I can’t eat out by myself what will people think( that you are brave and they wish they were). If I took a class my husband wouldn’t like it, (men can’t stand smart women, really?) If I don’t have a boyfriend girlfriend husband wife children a good job lots of money more hair no one will like me much less love me. Quite a bill of goods.

In a foreign country the idea that you are being watched can be pronounced. It’s winter here no tourist, I’m sure they think I am running from the law or a man which I think makes me mysterious, oui. Again breaking sister laws by not acting like other fifty year olds,  not cutting my hair off,  not coloring my hair and not wearing those stupid these are not my daughters jeans, yeah you from the rear we can tell. I refuse the idea of aging and I totally refuse the idea that women have any limitations beyond we can’t produce sperm, (but we can buy it if we need it). Freedom ladies, look into it.

I am loving this freedom. I can be who ever I desire to be. I am not hounded by my past and no one knows how I looked 1 year ago so they don’t know if I am fatter, thinner, less hair, more beautiful than I have ever been. And I am more beautiful than I have ever been because what is shining in my eyes ladies, ok the few men who read, that light is the reflection of freedom. I am free. I am free. I am free.

No limits. No restrictions. No one is the boss of me. Oh la la watch out world when I get done with this transformation I will be glowing and my hair will probably turn completely white and when I lay my eyes on you I will know everything about you. The view from a place of freedom is powerful and awesome and filled with light and if I were you and you are in prison turn around the bars are only in front of you. The door has been unlocked the entire time. You are not in prison, you are not a victim, breathe in a deep breath and feel that sensation, if you are breathing you are free, don’t believe me come to France, look me up and I ‘ll tell you all about it.

Side note the wine in France is awesome!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s