As many of you know, and as I am learning, Paris is a city of alleys and streets cobwebbing themselves into a maze that is both hypnotic and baffling. It’s beautiful and in a few minutes I will be out in those streets again, map clutched tightly, camera at the ready.
But that’s not the way my morning started.
It’s 7am, the alarm is ringing … ringing me into a new day in Paris. “Hit the Snooze, hit the Snooze” one of the voices in my foggy mind is insisting. I follow the directions perfectly, buy myself another 9 minutes. And then the adventure begins, my thoughts wandering from one topic to another, moments of clarity, moments of chaos and confusion. I’m whipping down the alleys of my mind weaving and dancing in front of me … and then ‘snap’ and I am pulled to a standstill in a crevice of stone and cobble, wondering how I got here, why I got here … and where was I before I got there. A cat scampers down the alley and around a hidden corner, tempting me, taunting me, teasing me, daring me to follow. And I do, mindless and mindful, meaning to stay conscious, hoping to slip into a darkness of delight.
Electronic chimes slam me back into my bed. “That was nine minutes?” And I lie there wondering about the alleys of my mind, the cats that catch my consciousness, the darkness that dares me to slip away. I lie there wishing I was more awake so I could appreciate the wonder of it all. I lie there wishing I were asleep, chasing another cat. I hit the Snooze and let myself go.