Okay, we got a great, tiny new camera and I keep forgetting to bring it anywhere to take pictures of the kids. We've had some wonderful potential photo ops this weekend, too. Oh well. Pictures soon, I promise.
But I wanted to remark the most startling thing about being away from my children and my regular life for two weeks, during my research trip to Paris: that my experience of TIME was completely different.
1. First, my schedule was different: I went to bed around midnight and slept till 8:30 or so. Midnight? I haven't seen that hour in Lancaster for years, I think. But restaurants don't even start serving till 8, and you aren't done with dinner till 10:30, and then you have a big lunch and go out for drinks in the early evening, and that's just the way it is.
2. My mental calendar, which has a clock constantly ticking in normal life-- school time, snack time, lunch time, naptime-ritual time, naptime waking time, get ready for dinner time, get ready for bed time-- emptied out completely. My first week my friend Alexis was there with me, off doing her own thing, so the only items on my calendar were when the library opened and when I had arranged to meet Alexis for dinner. Otherwise, the day stretched before me. I didn't have to constantly plan ahead, as you do if you're a mom, always having snacks and diapers and calculating how long you can be out before you need to return home. And I didn't have the pressure of a possible public meltdown if I miscalculated. If I got hungry while out, I just... ate.
3. Flow. I would be sitting in the library, reading my 18th-century French journals, and I would wonder why I was hungry since I'd just had lunch. Then I'd look at my watch and see that four hours had passed. I couldn't believe how the hours flew by while I was in the library. And on the other hand, I didn't have the pressure of only two hours of office time while the babysitter is here so get cracking and get everything done! I just stayed at the library all day, till I got tired or ran out of ideas. Then I went home and had a snack. My last afternoon of work, I was in a new library and didn't want to explain that I wanted my books held while I took a break, so I just stayed and worked all afternoon. I worked from 1:30 till 6 without any trouble at all. I really wanted a coke about 4 pm, but it was no big deal to just keep on reading.
4. Fatigue: I only needed about seven hours of sleep in Paris. I was merely reading 18th-century French for several hours a day, conversing in an unfamiliar language, and walking around briskly for a couple of hours each day. Piece of cake! No way did I get anywhere near as worn out as I do on a daily basis in my regular life.
5. Finally, it was just so luxurious to have so much time to myself, to do whatever I wanted, when I wanted. Early in my stay, I went to the Louvre, and I was there for six hours. It was just the most delicious feeling to be there and think, "I can stay here as long as I want." If Alexis got tired, we could split and I would just meet her at home. The museum was open till 10 pm. I had no restrictions other than my own stamina and interest. Similarly, our last day Michael and I went to Versailles. We were there for seven hours, and walked all the way out to Marie Antoinette's little hamlet, to both Trianon palaces, and halfway down the Grand Canal-- and back again.
It was really an eye-opening experience.
2 comments:
Yes, to all of it.
Amelia, how extraordinary. I can't imagine experiencing my days that way. Because in regular life, even if you are away from children for the evening or the day, you are so aware of when to return, when the children should be eating or sleeping with Grandma or babysitter or whoever, how you forgot to explain about this and that...but oh! You had such a beautiful break, just being yourself. It sounds so wonderful, restorative, and especially nice that Michael was able to join in. To be lost in your work. I love the descriptions.
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