Le Tour.

I woke up this morning, after hap hazard sleep, with that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Wondering, why I felt that way.

Till I remembered.

What’s up with shit being stolen that can throw me so much? Especially when I know in the scheme of things, this is nothing. Nothing life changing and horrible happened here.

In fact, it’s times like these when I think of people that serious, life altering, you’ll never be the same shit has happened to, that I feel guilty.

What right do I have to be upset over a damn iphone when say, oh, you were in a plane crash and 80% of your body was burned and look — you’re still alive and thriving and living to talk about it — and not complaining. Specifically, referring to the absolutely inspiring Stephanie Nielson of the the NieNie Dialogues.

It’s great to be put in check like that.

So yes, I found myself beginning a ho-hum morning that I quickly turned around. I did a snap out of it LC moment, opened our windows, saw it was a perfectly gorgeous morning and that’s when I decided it was going to be one fabulous day.

I am in Paris, phone or no phone is not going to get me down!

I hit up our local and wonderful organic market, which is literally one block down the street. How I love the markets here. The fresh fruits and veggies and handmade scarfs and soaps.

Stocked up on necessary goods, like apples, canteloupes, strawberries, blueberries and brie. And whole plain yogurt! That was my favorite find today. Which I shouldn’t really say was a find, since it’s been there the whole time next to the cheese — I just finally saw it today.

I then went over and hit up the Champs Elysées to catch the finish of Le Tour de France. We all know I’m not big on crowds and waiting {patience … still trying to get that one down}, but this wait was well worth it.

I moved locations a couple times — the Champs Elysées was packed, so I went to Place de la Concorde, not as crowded, but in the sun. Crowds and heat — no thanks.

I then crossed over to the Tuleries/Louvre area and found myself right at the Pont Royal, which turned out to be the first place where the cyclists come down {to then circle around Place de la Concorde, go up and then down the Champs Elsyées, and then do that all over again about six or eight times}.

It was thrilling. Truly.

You couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement of all the French, and those die hard cycling fans … the ones I’ve only ever seen on tv coverage of stages like the grueling Pyrenées, who are covered in flags and face paint and wigs.

Prior to riders finally making their grand début, all Tour sponsors put on a parade. Oh, how French it was. Dance music blaring, Smart Cars magically turned into whatever product they were advertising — such as a hotdog — scantily clad models and lots of dancing.

I think my favorite were three guys wearing nothing but tightie whities that were the colors of the French Flag, sunglasses on and Police boots, thrusting their stuff to LMFAO’s “Sexy and I know it” song. Don’t ask me what sponsor that was, who would be able to remember in a get up like that?

Classic.

After Le Tour, I took a beautiful walk across the Pont Royal and the Pont Alexandre, wound my way through the 7the Arrondissement and picked up the métro on Rue du Bac.

I would have liked to have continued my wondering ways, but I was done in. Three hours of non stop standing for Le Tour, was enough. Especially when two hours and thirty five minutes of that was waiting.

By the way, how many calories do we burn standing? I’m convinced, after my standing stint today, that it’s gotta be a decent amount. I swear at one point my heart rate was up.

Burning calories without moving and increasing heart rate. Excellent. Need to make that happen a bit more often.

I met up with Maman back at l’appartement and we headed back out again … I wanted to hit up the Shakespeare and Company bookstore.

It’s in a killer location in the 5th Arrondissement — Notre Dame is directly across the street and Saint Julien Le Pauvre, one of my most beloved churches is right next to it. Maman and I went to an incredible concert last night at Saint Julien. What a setting to soak in classical music.

Shakespeare and Co has an impressive back history, yet another haunt of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Man Ray, and that whole literati crowd.

Brother and I, over ten years ago,  spent some wonderful evenings there … browsing through books, trying to keep our balance on the uneven upper floor, that also substituted as one of the worker’s sleeping quarters. It was still relatively unknown.

Now it’s a huge tourist place. Which is okay, I’m a tourist, too … but … I prefer the low key, under the radar places. That’s much more me.

However, it was still neat to check out and all I have to say is : Hemingway. Right – I don’t need to continue.

And this whole phone thing … it’s just another opportunity. I feel like it’s The Universe saying, “so what are you going to do now?”

There’s always a choice. I can be pissed off or feel taken advantage of or think how “unfair” or I can shrug it off.

I don’t want to become a harden, jaded person. I want to always believe the best in everybody — even the girl who stole our phones. I believe she, in her own way, was just trying her best to make it.

And I’m not going to judge myself, or at least try not to. While I do take responsibility for {somehow} being a co-creator in this experience, I don’t think I did anything “bad” to deserve it.

It happened, and I like to believe there’s much more going on here than my physical senses can reason out or see.

As Maman and I were coming home this evening from Shakespeare and Co, I passed a homeless man with his dog. My heart ached for him. That dog, too. I think it must do the homeless wonders to have an animal companion … to have something living to be able to give love to, and receive love, since they spend so much time being rejected by society.

Even me … I find myself avoiding eye contact. Not wanting to acknowledge them. Another human being. That I’m not acknowledging. How can I do that? I don’t know, but I’ve done it and I’m sure I’ll do it again.

However, I try very hard to work on being present, to not shy away from fear of looking at them, seeing them, giving a smile.

When I saw this man and his “J’ai faim, s’il vous plait, m’aidez” {I am hungry, please help me}, I walked right by him. I felt my barriers come up. That I couldn’t possibly help him when I now am going to have to shell out a few hundred dollars for a new phone.

But I caught myself. I saw how downright absurd that was and not true. Of course I could help him and while I might have to buy a new phone, it’s okay. The money is there.

So I turned around and went back. I petted his dog. I looked him in the eye and talked to him. A real conversation, that he and all of us deserve to have. I gave what I could.

These sorts of situations, these are the ones that test my comfort boundaries, that push me further. To make me see that I have enough, that there is enough and that I want to help others in the ways that I am able to.

Because what happens is … I see me reflected. I see that and I get that we’re all connected — I become the homeless man, the girl who stole my phone … and then I am reminded, there is nothing to judge nor fight against … we’re all here together.

Maybe one day, that will be enough.

 

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