The Pleasure of Sunshine

The sky is blue. The air is crisp. The sun warms my soul.

Spring has arrived in Québec!

 

And the sun makes me smile. It calls me outside. And when I’m unable to answer the call, I linger by the windows gazing up at the sky, drinking in the day. I've always been like this.

It’s a simple thing. But I delight in the simple things in life: sunshine, snowflakes, the wind in my face, laughter, music, good food, and lively conversations with friends. And all of these things I've found here in Québec. 

Do they exist elsewhere?
Certainly.
But I'm noticing them here, now.

 I'm paying attention to all the good that surrounds me.   

The other day, I was feeling worn-down. I had a cold that just wouldn’t let go. My thoughts started to drift to my “poor me” place... it’s a well-traveled path, particularly when I’m sick. I could feel myself sinking into this feeling when I decided to change my outlook. 

I shifted my view to something for which I felt grateful... the Sunshine.

 
I breathed in gratitude and filled myself up with warm sunshine. Amazing! I felt better! I could change the way I felt through the simple act of being grateful for something as simple as sunshine.

And that's when I cried for the Pleasure of Sunshine.

 

    “Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, 

 invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

And the sunshine is plentiful here, even as the snow still rests in piles and patches on the ground. It’s early Springtime. And as the temperature climbs above freezing in the day, the sap begins to flow in the maple trees. This can only mean one thing:   

Sirop d’érable!  

Did you know that you can hear maple water? 

At the end of March, I had the sublime pleasure of standing with my family in the snowy woods while listening to l’eau d’érable drip into the tin buckets attached to every maple tree – drip, drop, drip, plop. A watery symphony... Magical! Meanwhile, Charlotte ran from tree to tree peeking into every bucket! Such joy! As I said, it’s the simple things.

I feel connected to this place. When we returned from visiting Ottawa for their Winter Festival in February, I remember feeling a sense of homecoming upon seeing the highway sign, “Bienvenue au Québec”. And it’s not just because it’s where I’m living. Quebec has crept into my heart, along with some of its ways...

 Doing things the "Quebecois way" 

Be generous with words of appreciation: Many things here are described as beautiful (beau/belle): un bel homme (man), un beau rêve (dream), une belle expérience, and even a bien belle pass (in hockey!) Neil & I have been called charmants and adorables. And when you say "merci", a common reply is "ça me fait plaisir" (it makes me happy!)

Let your children experience freedom: We allow Charlotte to play outside our house where we can’t see her. She plays with our neighbor of about the same age, building forts in hidden corners, climbing over fences and roaming to the end of the block. Today she asked to walk a few blocks away with her friend; she’s testing her boundaries and ours. It's too soon to agree to this. She’s only 7. And I’m still a parent with instincts belonging to the “big city”. But I'm learning to let her grow up peu à peu.
 

Relax, "c'est pas grave" (it's no big deal): My teacher says that I’m too much of a perfectionist. She wants me to think less before speaking, and not worry so much about finding the right word or verb tense. Just talk, make mistakes. C'est pas grave! Maybe not, but it's challenging for me. However she assures me that it’s the only way I can advance to the next level in french conversation. Just take a deep breath and jump, Donalyn...

Being sensitive ("sensible") is good: Sensitivity is valued here. You are unlikely to hear the expression that someone is "too sensitive". In Québec, the Arts are emphasized and artists are often sensitive. They need to be this way in order to create, and expressing one's passion is an integral part of artistic creation. I believe that I have the "esprit d'une artiste" -- and this makes me smile.

Let life flow: Perhaps this is not so much a quebecois philosophy as it is my “thème du moment” which was inspired by the flowing water in the maple trees.  It is to this idea that I return when I’m feeling stuck or overwhelmed. There's no need to struggle. Life is beautiful. Laisse-toi flotter sur le courant de la Vie!

Et moi, je suis reconnaissante d'être ici, à ce moment-même, à cet endroit-ci, chez moi: au Québec. 

 

The Wonder of Snowflakes

 

As I sit by the window and watch the snowflakes fall, I am struck by the wonder of their ‘being’. At this moment, each snowflake is fluffy and light, slowly drifting towards the ground. Tiny. Random. Seemingly inconsequential. Seemingly lacking in force and impact.  

Ultimately,                                      

                resting lightly                           

and then                           

     disappearing        

                            on the ground.

But each snowflake does have a force, an impact. And that value is only seen with patience and time. As each delicate flake comes to rest, it adds its being into the greater picture – creating an astounding carpet of white. The power of each snowflake gathered together to effect a magnificent change on the world below. A beautiful rebirth.

This observation about the nature of snowflakes to effect a dramatic change in the world is surely nothing new. But it serves as a lovely image to represent the changes I am experiencing in my life here in Quebec. Each new step I take, each experience, each learning represents a snowflake; and all of these seemingly disconnected “flocons de neige” have been gently building up inside me, quietly, almost imperceptibly, changing my “internal landscape”. And now, when I shift my focus from the falling snowflakes around me to the ground below, I see that I am being “reborn”. 

What are some of these "snowflakes" in my life? 

My first was my decision to live as a Possibilitarian rather than an Anticipator...

In my past, I was tied to worrying about the consequences of each decision. I believed I gained power from trying to anticipate what might happen with every step I might take.  The result was that I took fewer and fewer steps. I huddled in place and attempted to protect myself against imagined disappointments and hurt. When I decided to come to Quebec on an impulse, I pushed aside the Anticipator who was holding me back and --

-- embraced the Possibilitarian in me  

who wants to live life to the fullest! 

I chose then, as I choose again each day, to be hopeful about the possibilities that the future holds, while accepting that I can’t know what lies ahead. This is perhaps the best thing I have done for myself. And it has been incredibly freeing!

I have been determined to push myself to “be different” here in Quebec, and for me that means trying new things. I have said “YES” where I might have previously said “no”. I have pushed my cautious nature aside and entered a mid-life  

"Stage of Experimentation” 

(nothing illegal, mind you.) 

So, what have I tried? Well, for the past 3.5 months I’ve been attending school full-time in a French-immersion environment (woa.) I’m learning the piano – and loving it (woohoo!) I’m reaching out to make new friends... speaking in French (bien sûr!) I’m creating my own blog (hooray!) And, most recently, I went skating for the first time in decades (gulp!) on Granby’s Lac Boivin. 

My main aim in all of this has been to take chances and be prepared to make mistakes. (An ambition, by the way, that runs against my nature.) But, after all, I remind myself, I’m an Anglo from the West in a wintery Francophone world, I'm bound to mess-up, even take a few embarrassing tumbles. But my desire to learn remains true. And I’ve been in equal measure surprised and delighted by the results!  

Yay, Me!!!

Much as I believe that I’m on the path to greater understanding in so many things, I also know that true learning takes time. I've dedicated years to developing old beliefs and behaviours; integrating new ones into my existing "internal landscape" may be desirable but that doesn't guarantee a smooth transition. And yet, 

I feel impatient to fully grasp all the lessons that are being presented to me, 
these precious "snowflakes" that are dancing all around me...

...French, piano, relationships with friends and family, and knowing me better! However, one of my lessons is also to be patient with myself and others, things will work out in time. Just breathe.

  RESPIRE.

And finally, I’m learning the value of being open to people, truly open...

I thought I had been open and true, but in fact I had built a “protective wall” around myself with the idea of limiting the hurt of judgment (real or perceived.) In reality, I was just keeping people out, isolating myself despite my desire for closeness. 

Here, in Quebec, I've experienced how full life can be when you open yourself up to others! Friends and strangers alike have opened their hearts to me and my family in countless acts of kindness, offering generosity, encouragement and care.  

The people of Granby have greatly enriched my life: 

 from my inspiring French teachers and classmates, 

to my supportive hairstylist and favourite restaurant staff, 

to my warm-hearted piano teacher who looks out for me in so many ways, 

to the amazing couple who invited us to their home for dinner simply because they appreciated our cross-cultural journey. 

And of course, our dear friends, Josée and Pascal, 

who treat us like family, including us in their lives without a moment's hesitation. 

I am so humbled by the power of human kindness.

 People are truly the richness of life!

So here I am. Right now, in this moment, watching the snowflakes fall, feeling them drifting down on me (though I’m inside as I write.) I feel stronger for my experiences. Grateful. I feel the “gathered-up power” that they have bestowed upon me. And, at the same time, I feel a calm in my heart enveloping me… like a lovely, gentle, blanket of snow. 

I LOVE WORDS! J’aime les mots!

My relationship with words is a love-affair… they warm my soul and sustain me through good times and bad. Even as I use them up -- reading, writing, speaking, singing, thinking – they never disappear. Through all my ups and downs the words remain ever-present, a constant force in my life.

But what are words to me now, here in Quebec?   

When I arrived in Quebec I proudly declared “J’aime les mots!” I wasn’t afraid to learn new words. It was a thrilling proposition: a whole new world of words. I couldn’t wait to get started piecing together the puzzle. But there are SOOOO many pieces to this French language puzzle. It's no surprise that, at times, I feel overwhelmed.

So again the question, what are words to me now? Are they a source of amusement and delight or rather a source of confusion? Do they present a welcome challenge or a frustrating barrier? There are many sides to this story, as with any "bonne histoire"...

Amusement… Neil and I laugh all the time when we look up new words on our ipod translator. Picture us sitting in a cafe, repeating words over and over in different ways, trying to figure out the pronunciation. Hopefully any onlookers are as entertained by us as we are by our new language! And often my pronunciation is a bit "off"... like when I wanted to say,

“Il y a beaucoup de vent aujourd’hui” (there’s a lot of wind today), but instead I said  

“Il y a beaucoup de vin aujourd’hui” (there’s a lot of wine today!) That would be nice weather!! Ha ha!

Delight… I love to find words that cause me to say “Aha! That makes sense to me!”  Like the word crudité which we use in English for raw veggies… I’ve learned that “cru” means “raw”. And when I asked how to say that "the snow is deep", I learned that the word for "deep" is “profond” (like “profound” in English.) And this beautiful word can also be used to express “gratitude profonde” which we owe to our dear friends and family who support and help us in so many ways.

Confusion…  There are words in French that are remarkably similar to English words, but are actually "false friends"... like the signs in shop windows that proudly announce “SOLDE”, causing us to wonder why stores are advertising unavailable merchandise. Are they taunting us? --

“Ha ha, you’re too late!” (Turns out “solde” actually means “sale”.) 

And when I spoke in French with a sweet older lady at her Christmas tree farm, I found it deeply disconcerting that she seemed to be swearing constantly in English! 

Fortunately she wasn't. 

 (Apparently “faque" -- pronounced “fah-kuh” -- is Quebecois for “so…”. )

Challenge… I want to call to make an appointment for a massage (or car inspection, course registration, etc). Step 1: Practice what I want to say in French. Step 2: Try to figure out what the person on the other end of the line has asked me. Step 3: (Inevitably) Ask the person to please repeat… “Répétez plus lentement, s’il vous plaît.” Step 4: Hope that comprehension dawns on me. (Long pause.) Step 5: Feel like a fool when the person says in English, "What is your name?" 

(Truly, this has happened multiple times!)

Frustration… Every morning the radio wakes me up. I lie in bed listening to the DJs talk about the weather, the news, and upcoming events around town, trying to grasp something -- ANYTHING -- of what they’re saying. After four months, how can this still be so hard?! If I’m lucky I manage to figure out if it’s going to snow... sometime. 

(We waited a long time for our first big snowfall, and were delighted with snow on the 23rd for a White Christmas. Hooray!!)

Barrier… I want to form connections with people, be friendly, and make friends. But I haven’t got the words. I stumble my way through a sentence, mashing nouns and verbs together in a haphazard fashion hoping to create meaning. Often it seems simpler to just remain mute. How can I build an adult friendship when I communicate like a child?

In truth, most people we meet speak better English than we do French. How tempting it is to slip into English rather than persevere in French. Even in this francophone town, English is never far away... helpful shop staff, songs on the radio, movies, menus and newspapers. But if I surrender to temptation, how can I hope to succeed in this language challenge?!?

And in the end, Pride… Recently, I learned a new word in school: "mêlant". It means confusing. At lunch time we went to a nearby café where we like to sit at the counter and practice our “mauvais français” with the proprietor. When it came time to pay the bill, he seemed unsure of what we ordered. 
I tried out my new word: 

"Etes-vous mêlant?" (Are you confusing?) Oops. 

He smiled and corrected me, "Je suis mêlé. Vous êtes mêlant!" (I am confused. You are confusing!)  

Excellent! Now I have two new words to express my confusion!!

I’m here to stretch myself, to challenge myself, to grow. I wanted to do something hard. I got my wish. Here it is. I have thrown myself into the fray... there were bound to be casualties… for me, it is my relationship with words.

My language love affair is experiencing some turbulence… 

but I intend to hold on for the bumpy ride with a smile on my face 

 (even if it resembles a grimace at times!)

A poem…

Words reach out to me. Words draw me in. Words touch me deep within.

Words make me smile, and laugh, and frown. They puzzle me, befuddle me. They follow me around!

I use words to express who I am and where I’ve been, where I hope to go, my many hopes and dreams.

And now I pull at them and push at them, and twist them around. I make them sit still and be counted.

These words are just objects to be named and labelled. The feeling has gone out of them.

It’s almost surgical/   the way I cut apart/    a sentence.

The words I once loved… transformed into something…

Foreign.

I try to pick them up. Put new words in my pocket. A new collection to play with.

They amuse me and confuse me. The words evade me and leave me…  lacking.

I’m a bit lost without my beloved words, my heartfelt words, my connecting words.

My relationship with words is changing, evolving…

Where will we go together? 
Où irons-nous ensembles?