Week Fifty [The Final Three]

What power we have of hurting each other!

The book: This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The memory:

Why, hello again. We’re nearing the end of our time together, aren’t we? #50.

Today, I do not have any images, doodles, or pictures. Today, I barely can even provide the words.

The past month has been an absolutely marathon, and I’ve not nearly reached the finish line. When is the finish line, though? Death? Haha, I jest, but maybe. I keep running, we all keep running, but we can’t really see the end.

There’s always another marker, another checkpoint. That’s how I plan things now – just keep going until the next check point, and then you can reconfigure all over again. The next checkpoint is Paris. Yes, greetings from Paris, France.

I’m here sitting in my cousin’s apartment in Paris’ 13th district, staring at her zen apartment, reflecting on our broken English-French conversation, in which we both recounted our travels, our life decisions, and our life styles. I really love the French culture of four hour long dinner conversations.

I asked her about her year of travels. She asked me, “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” No, I chuckled. Not yet. Not just yet.

About two years ago, she left to travel the world for one year, unsure of whether she’d actually return to Paris. She ultimately decided to return, but it was a very, very tough decision. Traveling, she says, teaches you more than you think. It’s when you’re away from everything, your environment, that you learn who is really important to you. It’s been a year since she’s been back here, living her daily routine, trying to practice the wisdom she gained when she was away. Or, more accurately, it’s not what you learn when you’re away, traveling, but it’s what you learn when you return. You keep going, running, but what happens when you stand still?

She mentions how she observes everyone in her life is running…always running. They’re not able to catch their breath. Sometimes she finds herself running, too.

Sometimes, she finds herself running, too.

End, Memory Moment Fifty.

La semaine prochaine: Gatsby le Magnifique de F. Scott Fitzgerald

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s