richard bach & i are old friends. at least metaphorically. i've read & journeyed with his literature since before i was old enough to understand the new age movement & the at times scariness of the self-help/awareness aisle at my fave bookshops. since childhood i've identified with jonathon livingston seagull as have millions of special others.
for the uninitiated, the book is a parable [or maybe more accurately a fable since jonathon is an outcast but actually a bird] of self-discovery, a story of life & homage to perfection of the soul. a quest for eternal beauty, knowledge & peace.
none of this comes without conflict & deep reflection before true realisation & transension is realised.
so... today i started french lessons with fantastic feisty femmes, kate, ky & heidi at alliance francaise in sydney. so concerned are we with self-improvement & the thirst for knowledge we were in the CBD chasing park rangers well before 09:00 in order to get to class in time. on a saturday morning.
what initially seemed like incredibly impressive application when we all turned up is that beyond learning francais & passively accessing dormant parts of our brain we would ultimately be involved in le tableau diving, wrestling & ball sports involving coordinated use of both hands and mind. on a saturday morning.
i may have a permanently limp wrist after head to head tackling kate in our competitive drive [we were on opposite teams] to nail the numbers armed with whiteboard markers. this may sound trite but our professeur is now partially terrified of physical class time integration. shades of bootcamp but with a much prettier accent & more ink. on a saturday morning.
still after branding me "le chou chou" ascension to knowledge seems almost assured. i just hope that the incurred injuries don't affect my flying technique. it is hard to soar like jonathon when stuck on rinse repeat mode doing incessant spirals above the deep blue sea.
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