Vous entrez dans le chapitre 1 du roman ‘Lily.’ Si vous ne l’avez pas encore fait, vous souhaiterez peut-être lire le prologue avant de revenir ici.
La salle est plongée dans l’obscurité. Seul un ilot de lumière délicatement posé au centre de la pièce, sur un canapé bleu canard, attend, avec patience et poésie, un visiteur. Quelques secondes étranges, électriques, où l’on entend simplement palpiter les cœurs à l’unisson, des coulisses aux rangées sagement alignées autour de la scène ciselée dans un timbre-poste. …
J’ai dans la bouche le goût d’un Merveilleux, une petite sphère meringuée enrobée de crème fouettée et pailletée de confettis en chocolat, qu’on trouve dans les pâtisseries de mon pays. Un délice en miniature. Trop grand, c’est écœurant. Pourquoi cette envie, là maintenant, la main calée dans celle de mon mari qui me tracte au pas de course dans le dédale des arrivées de Los Angeles International ? Jon est immense et merveilleux, rarement indigeste. Je ne suis pas certaine d’aller bien.
Nous avons traversé Heathrow au point du jour, l’un de ces matins profondément anglais, où le vent se…
The room was white and cold. Slightly impersonal. It felt like the interior of a spatial hub with astronauts moving around in slow motion. I was lying there, naked and nauseous. They were busy prepping their tools, reviewing checklists, and controlling sophisticated machines.
They were adorable to me, asking how they could make me more comfortable every other minute. Still I felt like a piece of meat. A disembodied thing they were going to fix. My participation in their party wasn’t much needed.
All night, I had been pondering what kind of music would help to travel through this moment…
Infertility is a silent trauma that stole a part of my life. I call the price I paid to become a mother the angels’ share, like this fraction of whisky that evaporates from the cask over the years.
The journey came with a cost — pains, doubts, missed opportunities — that can’t be fully recovered. It also led to discovering dark sides of myself and feelings I wish I had never experienced. Anger, shame, sadness, desperation, disgust, lack of hope, emptiness, lack of sexual desire, and exhaustion, to name a few.
Six years ago, I welcomed my daughters after years…
Yesterday started as a lucky day.
I was working on a personal essay when I began to travel in my books and the web. My minds flew through every sky, it felt like visiting, to land far away, on an inspirational quote. Welcome to Serendipity World.
I was browsing references about grief, collateral grief, and co-dependency when I docked on an interview with Yannick Noah. The former tennis player answered to a confidential YouTube channel for students. How did this land in my feed? I don’t know, but the title pulled an inner trigger.
The journey is what matters, it…
You speak me loud, stand me up,
Make me swear not to give up
A soil to nest
A steady ground to fly
A serenity to harvest
You’re an heaven, my haven
Where you are belongs my anchor
A land to fall
A liberty to fail
A light morning to rise again
When in my arms you whisper
The world blooms wider, jumps further
Til dull midnights,
Til time to live bigger
Til beauty blossoms everywhere
You’re my life’s Anchor
You’re my life’s Encore
I am a writer, speaker, Paralympian, mother of twins, and a constant dreamer…
Today is Friday. For the last seven days, life has only got worse. Not horrible, but not great.
Last Saturday, one of my twin daughters complained about headaches. She had had a running nose for a few days and started to experience taste and smell loss. We tried her with Camembert — very French indeed! She swallowed a cube of cheese without a single frowning.
She is a hyper-sensitive kid who cannot stand vinegar or cheese fragrances within her nostrils reach — a fair 10ft range. That day, she ate a full piece of smelly cheese. Scary! We proceeded to…
Are you multi-resilient?
One of these individuals whose journey has been made of many hurdles, failures, griefs, and recoveries. And life is a long-haul struggle prompting physical and mental pain, streams of silent tears, and tight jaws hidden behind smiles. Are you one of these strong characters who seek respect in their boundless ability and apparent facility to bounce back?
I am one of them.
My life is full of bloody stories, painted in haemoglobin-red.
What does not kill me makes me stronger
— Friedrich Nietzsche (Twilight of the Idols)
I am alive. I am strong. However, not sure how…
My Grand-Father would turn 98 today. He has been gone for four and a half years, but I keep celebrating his birthday. I miss him.
I miss his heartfelt wisdom, one of an old man who’s survived a lot in his life. He was a prisoner in Poland during WWII, in the camps first, then as a compulsory worker. He scoured German battleships’ oil tanks in Gdansk, thousands of miles away from his French hometown. He would never mention what happened there. He was ashamed. And shy, in his own way.
People never talk upfront about them, but everybody has fears of some kind. Soft, mild, or severe. Aware or not.
My list of phobias is weird and long. Most times, nobody believes me. I get mocked. My Phobia is Not for Your Enjoyment tells me I am not alone.
People think I am exaggerating when I mention my fears and their symptoms. Wanna bet?
Here is my list: