Quebec is paused for two weeks. There is no question of thinking of “job” for the 200,000 construction workers now on leave. They will get lost in wood with the boyfriends, plant their tent somewhere in Quebec or bathe in the courtyard with the children.
Everyone will allow themselves a certain trip, sometimes very close to the house, for lack of means. Or further, to “disorient yourself a little”, “except for states!” As this site worker said who saved all year round to pay a memorable stay. Elsewhere. Nowadays, it’s still the last big luxury.
We say “to leave is to die a little”. On the contrary. There is something in the poetry of the journey that deserves to dwell on it. It is not only to be in motion or to leave what we know. It is to meet this suspended moment when the heart opens greater, where the eyes widen in front of the unknown, where everything becomes larger.
Sweet life
It is not that physical displacement, it is an inner tilting. A way to be capsized by the unusual. A way of saying to life: “Wait, I want to savor this moment. Here now! “
Sometimes the journey takes the taste of the ripe sun, like an ode to the sweetness of life. A call to a precious slowness. We suddenly relearn to exist lightly. Drinking our coffee without thinking about the invoices that stack. To admire the river and feel that everything is there.
We leave to remember that living does not need to be a performance. It is a state of mind that allows you to empty the head of everyday worries. We allow ourselves laziness, contemplation, wonder. Without guilt.
Go back
It happened to me to be so touched by a landscape that I would have given everything so that time stops. No because he was spectacular, but because he brought me back to the point. Suddenly I was breathing better.
Because the trip is to consent to be affected differently. By light, smells, sounds that perceive the armor of our ordinary lives. It’s making room for something else. A freer version, freer and more attentive to those you love.
We believe we are leaving to see the country. But it especially allows you to better understand what we left behind. Some places take care of us. Others shake us. Places reveal to us. Roads repair us.
And there are these journeys that you never come back completely. What we saw, felt, experienced far from our routine routine routine came into words what we could no longer name here.
Take the risk of leaving. Even if it’s not far away. Let us keep in the back of our suitcases and the heart a little of this poetry which makes each trip a way of returning to oneself.
