Breathe in. Breathe out.

Hello Andrew!

I just got off of a train that was infiltrated by about 30 four year olds. It was amazing. All the riders had unwittingly been entered into a very smiley situation. Kids were striking up conversations with strangers all over the place, cracking people up, doing goofy shit, staring like only kids can do, in that totally non-offensive, and completely adorable way. It pretty much made my whole week.

No! I did not get a holiday card! As a result I’m feeling perplexed and sad, and extremely disappointed in the French postal service. I will imagine it as a lovely and heartwarming greeting, with a chuckle thrown in, as I’m sure that’s just how it was intended to be received. In light of this dark news, it’s lucky for me that the Patron Saint of Metro Toddlers has saved the day.

Well I think you’re resolutions are top notch. In fact you’ve done such a splendid job with them that I will adopt them as my own and skip right over the messiness of having to cook something up for myself (I might not get too deeply into #3 though). I feel like a better person already. Thanks Bush, or Cheney, or wait…. Who’s the lame duck? Who wrote the law? I can’t talk politics.

So much has happened in the interim betwixt now and our last correspondence. (Oh, I’ve just thought of a resolution, I will begin to use the word “betwixt” on a regular basis.) I have been busy busy busy, so so busy, a busy busy bee. The busyness is stemming from:

1. Becoming an enlightened being.
2. Traveling, as an enlightened being, to Amsterdam with your friend (now my friend too) Eric.
3. Acquiring a roommate.

Instead of spending the holidays alone in Paris, I decided to go on a seven-day retreat being held at a Buddhist monastery in Bordeaux, Plum Village. I went through a bit of a back and forth before deciding on this course of action, mainly because the daily wake up call was at 5am and I’m getting up around 1pm these days, but after departing for my journey, I realized I had made the right decision. I spent the first 45 minutes of the train trip ruminating over how badly I wanted to clock the guy who had made me move my luggage so he could sit in the seat it was near, even though the train was otherwise empty. I tried to be a good Buddhist and practice non-attachment, but nonetheless, I was very attached to sending him dirty looks and openly hating him, after I brattily stormed to an empty seat on the opposite side of the train.

Throughout the week I also became attached to many other things. I attached to the idea that I must chastise my chatty French roommates for never shutting up during the damn Nobel Silence. I attached to the idea that the nuns were secretly plotting against the lay people, or “Dear friends,” as they would call us. I attached to the idea that I must pile as much food as possible onto my plate, because it was free. I attached to the idea that the mouse who was nightly gnawing at the wall from the inside out may eventually break through and head for my bras and panties (not an unfounded notion, as I once had two hamsters who made a hobby of turning my undies into Swiss cheese). So I decided it was best to not remain impervious to my reason for being there. I needed to calm down all that incessant monkey brain chatter.

I practiced non-attachment by taking pictures of dewdrops, fat cats, and ripples on the pond, while wandering through the brown vineyards. The nuns reminded us all to “Just enjoy breathing.” I did that too. I placed my feet squarely and firmly on the ground as I walked, feeling every step, taking every breath, letting thoughts pass. I liked this. The monkey seemed to have a bit less to say, although we were still having disagreements from time to time. The monkey really REALLY wanted me to reprimand my roommates for never ever shutting their big fat mouths (I think this is the monkey talking right now) but luckily the monkey didn’t really know any good French, so I won that battle. I often thought of Positive Positive Positive Drew, and what his advice to me may be. “Breathe in, Breathe out, don’t scream and shout. You’ll be a hip, happy monkey, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”




The monkey did spend some time complaining with the other campers, but ultimately I just chalk that up to some good old-fashioned bonding amongst people who would otherwise be total strangers, without much in common. I’m letting the monkey off the hook for that one. So, after a week of living mindfully, and enjoying my breathing, I haven’t totally gotten the monkey off my back, but we have a much more kind and understanding relationship with each other now. At least he’s not throwing feces at me any longer, or when he does he apologizes after. I consider it a success!

Then I got home and there was an orphan from LA on my doorstep! I’m a self -proclaimed roommate-less kind of a woman, and the monkey is a whole other story that shan't be addressed here. Needless to say I was a tiny bit worried, but I decided to accept this as my post enlightenment challenge. So pack two people, two cats, and one monkey into a tiny Paris apartment, and also factor in a lot of breathing betwixt these elements, and you have my busyness in a nutshell. It’s actually all been going wonderfully, I am happy to report.

I've blabbered on too long. I'll have to tell you about Amsterdam another time. Quick summary: It was great!

It may be too soon to say this, but I feel spring is in the air. I’m getting giddy.

When are you going to bring that baby and your special lady on out to visit? Soon, OK? Make it happen.

Two hugs and a kiss from your good buddy Sonya.

The new roommate checking out the sites.


Totally loved Amsteram, and it had nothing to do with pot.


Paris is still beautiful, of course.


Love from Plum Village.