The last month, and especially the last three years, it seems as if I have travelled through Europe but really, I have travelled through the territory of vulnerability. It always surprises me how my gut feeling has never been wrong, but yet I so often question myself before I trust it. My story in France is an example of this kind of journey, where I have learnt to trust myself again.
As I have already shared, I lived in Valbonne for one year during the pandemic by pure coincidence. From the moment I took the bus from Cannes up into the village, I knew that I wanted to stay there. But it never made any sense to me. Why here? I would ask myself. There seemed to be no logic… and for me, that was hard to accept. I searched for reasons. I met someone and fell in love almost immediately after I arrived, and I thought the reason was him. My heart was full of mysterious emotions, and my head was full of questions… I could not contain it all inside, so I would often go to a church at the bottom of the village. As if that would help me to find some answers. And after a while, I realised that this man had nothing to do with the answers I was seeking.
I kept feeling the compulsion to come back to this little village, without knowing why. One time. Two times. Three times. And during one of these occasions, something magical happened.
One April, I was back in Valbonne for a few days and I made my usual visit to the church. On my way back to my flat, which was about ten minutes from the village, I took the normal route and crossed a little bridge over the river Brague. It was typical April weather, when you are both hugged by the sun and slapped by the icy breeze, so I walked briskly.
I glanced at the floor just before reaching the bridge, and something caught my eye. It was metal, with a dull shine and oval in shape. I don’t normally do this, but I decided to pick it up. I clasped it in my hands, buried within my pockets so I could stay warm. When I arrived back at the flat, I inspected the object. I saw the figure of Saint Mary, but the metal was a little tarnished. Gently, I cleaned it with some toothpaste, as I had been taught to do with silver many years ago. Slowly, she revealed herself.
Standing with her hands open, palms facing up, long robe flowing down. Although the carving is too small for details, I could feel her face had a kind expression. There was writing around the edge, it appeared to be in French but I couldn’t quite read it. On the back, a Marian cross and two hearts, the Sacred and the Immaculate, surrounded by twelve stars. I knew that my mother was interested by such things, so I took a photograph and sent it to her immediately.
Her response surprised me. She said that she had the same medal and sent me a photo of hers. Indeed, it was exactly the same except the writing on hers was in English. She told me that it was a miraculous medal, originally made in France and now distributed throughout the world. I couldn’t help but feel that this was a sign of some sort. Another mystery, but I also felt like it was telling me something: keep going, you will get the answer you’re looking for. The next day, I bought a silver chain and now I wear this medal around my neck every day. That was in April 2022.
It was only now, on my seventh time back to the country, that things seem to be making sense. Life is strange like that. One day last week, it was just an ordinary day. I got ready, as I usually do, and decided to wear my bright blue earrings before going to Valbonne to do a little writing and photography. They bring out the blue in my eyes, and they matched my shorts. As usual, I put Saint Mary around my neck. Later that day, I met someone who I talked with for 10 minutes and I felt compelled to give him my number. Soon after, he gave me a compliment, but not in the same way as a lot of other French men.
The men here like to flirt, and they give out compliments to women often. It’s flattering of course, but after a while these words become just an empty shell and not exciting. This man was different. He told me – I like the blue of your earrings, and I like the Virgin Mary on your chain. It was different for me, normally people don’t notice these things. These words weren’t empty or full of insecurities… they were genuine and respectful.
And so, the links started to join together. That was one week ago. Over the last seven days, I am starting to see that all the moments from my past that had caused me confusion, the moments where my gut spoke to me in a language I didn’t understand, is now making sense. The air in my life has started to clear, come together, and form some kind of beautiful pattern. It sounds harmonious, like the instruments of an orchestra learning how to play in time with each other. And it is all happening without any effort, like a show at the theatre. I simply close my eyes and lay back to listen, watch and experience everything unfolding in front of me.
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