MONT SAINT-MICHEL

We arrived in the dark,

all was still,

each person dreaming of

a creeping sea...

waves and waves and waves...

.

with the rush of a galloping horse

she rides

to champ and snort against the stone walls.

.

and the sea, she brings with her jewels,

of many colours - red and green

transclucent weeds that glisten in the sunrise.

...

It was the most glorious morning, on Mont St Michel! I had just awoken from some strange dream of horses, to the sight of Oliver still snoring on the pillow beside me.

I will never turn down an opportunity to luxuriate in bed, and this morning was particularly beautiful because the bed was not, as per usual, a car seat, but was in fact a hotel bed. Crisp cotton, and a heavy blanket, and a high ceiling... all these things I appreciated in silence for several minutes. Our journey had made me much more grateful for the tiniest of blessings.

But this, this was a HUGE blessing! Turning over, I nudged Oliver. It was time to get up, the light in the window had begun to turn from navy to a dusky kind of blue. We put on our shoes, I grabbed my camera, and we were off. It took only a few steps from our room to the shores...

Then I remembered my dream: of the ocean, encroaching on this tiny island in the night. The dream I had dreamed was there, lapping at the very entranceway - small waves in a shallow sea that had appeared overnight! The effect was utterly magical, totally breathtaking.

And there, too, was the sunrise. Walking out on a narrow stretch of concrete, and looking back at the scene, I couldn't quite believe it was all real... A cluster of spires, on a tiny island that looked like a castle, set amidst an endless ocean.

By the time the sun had breached the waters we were up in the small cul-de-sacs and cobbled alleyways of that grand stone castle.

It was early, and at first we only heard the sounds of bakers, delivery boys and several construction workers. Slowly, as we climbed ever higher, the noises gave way to the simple whisk of sea air, and nothingness. There was nobody about, and the whole island was ours to explore, if only for a short time.

From sea to sea, we walked the lonely streets,

to greet the walls and the wind and the gulls.

ÉTRETAT

“It is beautiful here [in Etretat, Normandy], my friend; every day I discover more and more beautiful things. It is intoxicating me, and I want to paint it all - my head is bursting.. ..I want to fight, scratch it off, start again, because I start to see and understand. I seems to me as if I can see nature and I can catch it all.. ..it is by observation and reflection that I discover how. That is what we are working on, continuously..
”

— MONET - 1864 letter to his friend Frédéric Bazille

SUNRISE, SUNSET

Each moment is new because of the way light moves through our atmosphere, framing the objects it falls upon, and also because we shall look upon it with new eyes, as we continue to learn and grow.

We may never step into the same river twice, but just as tellingly, that river may never flow against the same legs twice.

...

When we reached Etretat, on the very shores of France, I felt pensive - a reflective mood had come over me. Perhaps it was the sea, and those cliffs: an emblem for all endings.

I began to think over the shifting lights, the changing angles of my worldly view. So much had happened, by this point, both Oliver and I felt we had lived several lifetimes, all in the one journey. We had lived without running water or electricity (or toilets) in the depths of a Finnish winter, and we had lived through difficult times in Bosnia, and through splendid times in Vienna, and through crazy times in Norway. We had slept in our car all over Europe... We had experienced flashy riches in Venice, and earthly riches in Iceland. There were so many moments that came before me, one by one, to be remembered.

I thought, too, of the last time I had been in France - many years before, as a young academic, there to study History and Art and Anthropology. It was amazing to think of how much had changed, since I had left and returned. I had gained a husband and travel companion. I had completely changed my goals in life. I had let go of so much of the pressure I used to feel, and the anxiety. I had worked, and saved, and struggled and grown, and... so much more.

But through it all, I felt one rising motion, one surging movement of experience and thought and feeling, every bad decision and good decision, and every little moment was tumbling towards this greater realisation...

... That the world is just so beautiful!!!!

Beauty is not something constant that we can fix to a board, or a set of points, or a list. It is ever-changing, like the sky, and mysterious as the depths of that sea. Beauty, were it simple and only based on aesthetics, would be boring. But it is not, and the fact that I came to this conclusion after so many dubious and stirring events is evidence that even those things that seem to go against the grain, even these things eventually add to the beautiful, dark, crazy mystery nature of life!

...

We spent that night on the beach, where the rocks breath and sigh everytime the ocean moves through them. We drank cider, and slept in our car on the cliffs in a fierce wind, to awake to a misty, white sunrise.

BRUGES

“The air is hot and rich with the scent of chocolate. Quite unlike the white powdery chocolate I knew as a boy, this has a throaty richness like the perfumed beans from the coffee stall on the market, a redolence of amaretto and tiramisù, a smoky, burned flavor that enters my mouth somehow and makes it water. There is a silver jug of the stuff on the counter, from which a vapor rises. I recall that I have not breakfasted this morning.”

— JOANNE HARRIS - CHOCOLAT

A MIND MAP FOR INDULGENCE

The word indulgence can be complex - it denotes both the act of indulging - a pursuit of personal pleasure, and the act of giving indulgences - a pardon obtained from the Catholic church for ones sins. Not surprising, then, that we should have gotten the two meanings mixed up somewhere along the way.

Is it not common, when we think of indulgences, to think first of small guilty pleasures? The thought of indulging ourselves brings up a myriad of odd associations: delicious food, sin, bubble baths, repentance, self care, selfish acts, luxurious moments, guilt, and above all... chocolate!

I wish, here, to clear up the messy meanings of something that to me is so simple. In order to do so, we must look back the root meanings of the word...

INDULGENCE

inˈdəljəns | noun

1. From the Latin root indulgere, meaning = to give free rein to.

2. 17th century, the meaning shifted to include = to treat with excessive kindness

3. Current meaning = fulfillment, satisfaction, gratification, appeasement.

When I look at all these meanings in conjunction, what I see is not some messy act of guilty pleasure, but is instead a word for an act of self nurturing, bordering on mindful consumption, with an end point of fulfillment. 

That word, indulgence, ran through my mind once or twice when we visited Bruges.

My Most Vivid Memory from Bruges

sitting on a park bench, the evergreen shellac peeling off the wood, Oliver beside me, both of us watching the world go by as we passed a small chocolate back and forth...

The taste of that one chocolate will stay with me forever. I have cemented it in my memory, along with the moment.

It was green, too, although lighter than the bench. The colour denoted the contents, which were said to be 'cilantro and lime'...

I remember the way that first chocolate burst like an orange nodule, tangy and sharp, almost hurting my sleeping mouth, before the layers of flavours became apparent - bittersweet like a guava, pitted and grainy like blackberries, smooth as milk and soft as butter, the effect was a symphony, one part moving through to the next.

It was a moment that deserved my undivided attention. There is nothing I needed to do, right then, except be there, eating chocolate.

The whole of Bruges was like this - a feast for the senses. By awakening, opening, surrendering and focusing my attentions, I felt I could drink in the colours, imbibe impressions, and engage with the fabulous visions of the world around me, tasting the very essence of it all.

... and a small map of places where one can indulge themselves ...

Taste:

- Chocolate at The Chocolate Line, Brugge.

- Waffles at Maison Albert.

- Beer from the Westvleteren Monastic Brewery

See:

- Michelangelo's Madonna and Child at the Church of Our Lady.

- The beauty of Bruges on foot, or by water.

Hear:

- A chorus of ducks at Minnewater Park.

- The slow click and creak of windmills along Kruisvest.