Mystified about France, on my return to Italy the switch back to si from oui is often times precarious.  What is it exactly that I find so easy in France, so complete, significant or comfortable?  Each time I am there, I have these realizations of having been there before, seeing these people, buildings, rivers – walking through the streets.  Each time it gets more and more real, leaving me with these confused ideas of myself.
Time and age does not always equal wisdom, often times the opposite.  Each year I feel like I know less about myself and the world than the last – each year leaving me more interested in this quest.  Stepping outside of myself to observe, and attempting to think more and more about each moment, each day, each relationship and experience.  It is so difficult at times, but those moments of clarity come so rarely, for that one moment I feel like I have it together.  One must look with the heart.