It was a pilgrimage to a part of her soul – that was the point of visiting Paris with Dearest. She had learned the language there and absorbed French culture and that had added to her character key components of grace, taste, tolerance and style that had been missing in the American Midwest. Could I discover something too? I dared not hope, yet it came quite easily.
We were sitting in a café, engaged in a rich conversation as always, when the words came to me: “Soul home – home of the soul. The place your soul feels at home.” I suddenly felt an attachment to place, to a milieu, to a way of living and loving on this earth that suits me.
Aside: This is the creative soul we’re talking about here – obviously our eternal souls already have a source and eventual succor. But what about the things that make your mind race and your heart beat faster? What about the ideas and feelings that motivate you to create beauty and seek truth?
We passed the thought back and forth, each shaping it in new ways as I scribbled in my notebook, “The place where the best ideas flourish, where ideas are the reality.”
“Find your soul’s home, the source of your soul’s creative fountain. The soul’s inspiration point. Where your soul takes life.”
In French, “inspiration de l’âme.”
That’s what Paris meant to us. It suddenly became obvious why artists, writers, poets, and thinkers and creators of all kinds have gravitated there for centuries.
Yes, every soul needs a home — and she added, “Just as every home needs a soul.” I feel my soul has found its home at last.
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