i've many strange things about me. i mentioned once before that sometimes when i wake up i like to play a game and imagine, where in the world would i like to be? i think very much that i've a bit of a wanderlust about me. these days i would love to visit paris for the beauty of it all. i want to be immersed in beauty; inspiring architecture, gorgeous scultpure and paintings, delicious tea and croissants, the scent of lovely french perfume... and fashion... don't get me started.
sometimes we write and we think the words are our own creations. we ourselves thought them up, they are our ideas. and they are, in a way. but in a way not. this morning when thinking of france i was browsing through un livre that i have titled a writer's paris. it was this passage that i found most appealing. it is called 'second chances.'
often quoted to make a point about american culture and character is F. Scott Fitzgerald's famous line 'there are no second acts in american lives.' in fact, nothing could be further from the truth. we are not done at twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty...; we have not ruined our chances by not writing for a decade; we have not precluded the possibility of a second act and a second chance by making even the worst mistake. alchoholics get sober, cowardly lions find courage, and with each new dawn, every writer gets a second chance as well...
in my opinion, this is true of most situations. and i suppose i stumbled upon this idea as i am dreaming of france this morning and wanting very much to improve my french and not only wanting to sip tea and taste croissants in paris... it surprisingly also has to do with me connecting to my heart's desires and wanting and planning and doing! to beginning again.
in university i failed a most dreaded course. when i'd bought the books the next year to repeat the class that had been restructured and taught by a brand new professor, i was a bit sad that i had failed the class before, though i tried my hardest. i sat there in the library with my new books as the new class was about to begin again. i remember so well a good friend and fellow student leaned in close to my ear and whispered... 'once more, with love.'
i always remember this when i am beginning again. dear reader if you are on track with that you wish, marvelous! and if not, let's begin again...
hope you have a sweetly inspired weekend!
image de anneinparis