Week 19

As I settle in, it gets harder to find things to write about. My practical challenges are pretty mundane these days. The entry phone for my apartment isn’t working but it hasn’t had much of an impact on me. My admin tasks are complete for now, and I’m getting the hang of when to turn on heaters in different rooms and when to just put on a sweater.

Life is simply in full swing here so, this week, I’m going to talk only about joy.

I have always struggled with the concept of belonging. I think a lot of people do. I used to think it was a ‘done and dusted’ kind of thing. You found your people and your place and you simply belonged.

Over the years, I’ve come to understand that belonging is found in moments, not in permanence. The stranger who catches my eye and smiles as we pass on the street, the unexpected message I receive from a friend, even the moments where I feel a brief internal shift and really see myself. Slivers of connection.

Now, when I feel lonely, I focus on evidence of belonging here in Pézenas. The proprietor of the tea shop who already knows my order. The regulars at the café I go to most mornings, who have welcomed me to their table and patiently try to understand my side of the conversation. And that deep connection to who I’m becoming as a retiree living in France.

There is much joy in belonging.

I love choral music and feel a particular thrill when I hear a capella music and perfect acoustics. Last weekend, I accompanied my neighbour to a choral concert in a chateau. It was a beautiful evening. I didn’t take photos of the choir, but did take one of the vaulted ceiling. I also recorded a brief clip of the choir as they made their entrance. You can listen here:

Music is so important, isn’t it? It can guide mood and define thought, it inspires and it conjures up memories both good and bad.

I’m going to start including a song in every blog, beginning this week with a beautiful rendition of Gordon Lightfoot’s Song For A Winter’s Night, sung by the wonderful Sarah McLachlan. Solid Canadian content, here.

It’s not quite winter on the calendar and there’s no snow in Pézenas, but this song brings to mind the friends and family I’m missing this Christmas. And it gives me pause to pray for those who are freshly grieving or whose grief has sharper edges because of the season.



As always, photos bring me joy.

If you live in or near Pézenas, visit Marlotte on Jean Jaurès to enjoy a crepe and a cup of tea or to pick up some beautiful Christmas gifts.
I often see cats lounging in flower pots in the old town. This one seemed hypnotized by the Christmas lights.
A few weeks ago I mentioned that I’m challenging myself to take photos with my cameras. I took this one with my Sony a6000. It isn’t perfect but it is progress.
These days, the streets of Pézenas are empty in the evenings and can be a challenge to my sense of belonging. Then I stop to breathe in the smell of wood smoke and delight in the way the light bounces off the cobblestone streets. I hear laughter and sometimes music from behind curtained windows and, rather than feel apart and alone, I somehow feel drawn in. I notice that internal connection to my self and shift into a deep sense of peace.

Christmas will be on full display throughout Pézenas this coming week, with parades and choirs and all manners of goodies. I’ll try to take some photos for next week’s blog.

À bientôt .

8 thoughts on “Week 19

  1. Sue, I like the new features and you will NEVER run out of pertinent things to say. Your sensitivities, your introspection, these fresh sensations are so enlightening and it’s not expected that everything is always perfect in this new life that you’ve chosen. I think that’s the reality and the charm of your writing – it’s addressing the internal and the external, with questions, curiosity, adventure, some frustrations and/but ultimately appreciation. What can be finer than that? And, if it’s any consolation, the empty streets of Castelnau de Montmiral reflect that same emptiness that I have come to embrace for the quiet and for the fullness of its history…and my history. A very Merry Christmas to you, my friend. Keep up the good work xox

  2. Sue, Thank you for sharing your lovely thoughts, especially loved the music from Sarah Maclachan as I’m navigating my first Christmas without Carver. I’m finding moments of Joy intertwined with my grief and I’m holding them close to my heart. Your beautiful pictures bring Joy as well. I’m traveling to Berlin to see our youngest daughter, Sarah, and her family next weekend. I decorated our home for Christmas but it feels right not to be here on Christmas Day. Christmas Blessings, Marianne

    1. Blessings to you as well, Marianne. I’m glad you’ll be with your daughter. Carver will be there in your heart.

  3. Thanks for sharing Sue. I love that you are re-connecting to things that were a part of your life at home, like music and photography. I so enjoy your photos and perspective. Our friend Carole recently came over to try my brother-in-law’s accordion (and borrow) and we were speaking of you.
    Merry Christmas 🎄

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