So I have been living in this space for seven years now. Some of you have been too. Seven years. It’s a long span of time but of course it has passed so quickly, the beauty and the jagged all together. My heart is full.
Granted, you might be thinking, “Heather, you are baaaarely keeping this thing going.” Et vous avez raison. I am not going to dwell on why, we have already crossed that Bridge of Sighs plenty of times together. But even when I am not actually offering up to you my words and photographs – Look! Look! Look! – I am with you still.
So, it is with that trust, strong like a golden wire, that I have a question for you.
Yesterday, I took the train to Arles to see some art. I miss my little town. So I sat on the banks of the Rhone and felt the 2500 years of history flow through me as the sun caressed my cheek. I climbed the worn stone staircases of what is now the Musee Reattu just as the Knights of Malta did and smiled as the floors creaked reassuringly under my feet.
And I felt at home.
But then I started to do “the rounds,” to visit those that I knew before. Every person to a one handled me so delicately, largely with well-intentioned pity. “How are you, Heather? Really? Comment ça va?” All with the same head tilt of concern. I felt so uncomfortable that I could not tell them that actually, I have a job now and my own apartment or that I am starting to make new friends in a different town. That pity hung heavy between us like a veil.
Because, we are not broken. And as beaten as I have felt during this past year, I was always and am still breathing, grateful. The Beauty of this Life is undeniable.
I am not the person I once was. But none of us are.
So I think that it is time to ask the question that has been brewing in me since the very beginning of January, maybe earlier.
If I am not “Lost” and definitely not “Lost in Arles” then who can I be? Because I don’t feel Lost anymore. Struggling yes, often even, but not Lost. Everything, everything was and is completely meant to be.
This means that I no longer feel that the title of this blog fits. It is a hollow definition that is one of my last links to the past, but one that is starting to feel more and more like a chain holding me back from where I want to go.
As I am uncertain as to what that might be, I am turning to you. Community is always what I have celebrated on these anniversaries.
I am officially opening up the Suggestion Box for what new title this space may wear. Please feel free to leave a comment below or to email me at robinsonheather (at) yahoo.com if you prefer.
Heather Robinson Photography, so that your work can be found.
photographie d’histoire
la conteur visuel
SO many wonderful suggestions here Heather…I will be thinking on this one. For now ‘Walk with me…’ and you can fill in the latter part. I like the idea of looking to your past blog post titles…play the word game, try a bit of free writing. Will come back with more. Big wave from Sydney! xx
I like the idea of using your beautiful name in a new blog title….something like Heather in Provence (in contrast to the usual lavender) but I'm guessing you won't want to use your name, and, anyway, I guess there are a hundred other blogs called Somebody in Provence.
I'll think on it. I will write soon. My sincere apologies for having not done so for a while. Love to you, dear Heather.
I like as your blog title – "Blooms across the purple heather,"
from the Scottish folk song Wild Mountain Thyme."
I have been following your blog for years but don't do a lot of commenting. Your struggle was so heartfelt and real. I am relieved to see you taking strides. It takes time to heal and reflect and reinvent oneself.
Changing titles is needed. You're not the same and you don't live in Arles and as you found out, it's hard to go back. Face forward, move ahead. You've made great strides. How about Strides in France. Or Strides Abroad. or just Strides. It's all about moving forward. But not away from. Just forward. Best of luck, write when you can, I love reading your posts.
I too have been thinking about the title of your blog for some time! Time for a change, to go with all of your other changes. The most obvious one is "Not lost in Arles" but that doesn't say it all. It does however make you still easy to find, for your many fans and followers. Or Found in Arles even, as it is by and through Arles that you have found the new you. No matter what you name it, just make sure to keep doing it. Being Lost is no longer right for you, having found so much over the last year or so. Bravo.
bonnie
Hmmm – I really have my thinking cap on for this one! How about Found in France? Also: Lost and Found? I like this one as it speaks to the ups and downs of like, the impermanence, and also it doesn't pin you down to a location (should you ever want to change locations!). Plus it can apply to learning and losing – all that is a part of life. I would also suggest looking back through all your (bajillion?) post titles! Just on the right side of the screen as I'm typing this I see "Unfolding the Bloom" – wowza; great one!! Also, you have so many favorite authors and influences – I wonder if you can find the title in something/someone that inspires you? (from a favorite book, author, piece of writing). At first I didn't want the name to change, but now I'm a little interested in this and see how the old title might feel constricting and like it doesn't fit! I'll keep my thinking cap on…!
I do not have a suggestion, I just stopped by to say hello! But I love both suggestions above!
I think of you as a seeker. A seeker of beauty, of truth, of connections, of the unknown.
La chercheuse? It has a kind of academic sense in French which is not out of place.
Something about finding yourself in France? As with "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," use of the continuous participle gives that always-a-work-in-progress vibe.
How about the title of your previous post? Waltzing Solo? I thought that a beautiful header for that post and it does seem to suit you now. You are waltzing, don't we all from time to time, and you are solo, aren't we all from time to time, even if we are with. Just a thought.