A Moment of Reflection

There are times when I am tempted to stay in France. When I quickly forget the miserable winters. When the headaches of dealing with the frustrating Faculte d'Oenologie seem minor, and it becomes trivial that the French government is trying to impose taxes for things that don't apply to me. When my pile of work and research sitting next to me is just another fixture in my apartment. When the frequent strikes disrupt a life already pressed for time. There are days when I find myself remembering, I live in France.

One of my favorite things is to spend mornings in my little spot in the open window, sipping a bowl of cafe au lait, reading excerpts from my favorite books, and watching life go by in the plaza outside. I savor the sensory contrast between the sunlight and the crisp, cool air. The aroma of fresh baguettes and coffee float up from the patisserie downstairs. Overnight, the weather turned from winter to summer, and this morning I sat for a long time in my window reflecting on my experiences here and the extraordinary people I've met along the way.

In Japanese, we say 一期 一 会, ichigo ichie, literally "One moment, one time." It means, a single moment only occurs once in life. Everyone has experienced it; a singular point so convergent even the body aligns on its own. I may be enrolled in a frustrating educational system, and waging war with a bureaucracy that is quintessentially French down to the last signature. But I am also reminded that whether good or bad, life in France has been a series of one amazing experience after another. These idyllic moments of reflection, watching liberated cherry blossoms waft by on the breeze, listening to the bells of the church nearby sound at random, bring to me an equilibrium that can only be acheived spontaneously. I catch myself thinking, maybe living in France for a few more years isn't such an impossible idea.