Solitude

Send a link to a friend  Share

"
https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yqwqRfTNRY4/VbzdCvie-DI/AAAAAAAAAow/bR1L4lnr0C0/s640/blogger-image--1933764480.jpg

(Hall of Mirrors/Galerie des Glaces at Le Chateau de Versailles)

Peace. Quiet. Silence. Solitude. These are the things I love about Lincoln. One needn't go far to find one of these in their own home, neighborhood or in Logan County. The traffic isn't awful and the crowds aren't either. Small city life isn't so bad.
Paris--everywhere I go I bump into someone. Everywhere I go there is some expression of creativity. Everywhere I go, even in the churches that request silence and the museums that encourages being quiet, there is noise.

Sirens. French. Laughter. Horns. English. Crying. Trains. Languages. Emotions. Yes--all of that--everywhere--at any time of the day.
And it is, well, beautiful.
Before coming to Paris I read in the book City and Noise: Sound and Nineteenth Century Paris by Aimee Boutin, that in order to understand the city, one must engage Paris as a melodious space that orchestrates different, often conflicting sound cultures. Herein lies the beauty of Paris, while the same noise that drives unnerves an introvert like me to the core, the sounds of a busy city are refreshing in their own way. The humming of the streets indicate life. My inability to understand most, if not all people, reminds me that the world is much larger than Lincoln, Illinois and that English isn't necessarily the language of love.

One must give themselves over in order to fully experience and understand whatever the other might be: person, place...even our own self.


The world is so big. So marvelous. Sure, we have our moments. But some 1000s of miles away from home I've felt nothing but the goodness humanity has to offer. From the hospitality to the folks I'm staying with, to the waiter who chuckles with patience as I order in French, the mercy of God is all around us.

Merton once said, in regards to encountering God in life, "It is simply opening yourself to receive. The presence of God is like walking out of a door into the fresh air. You don't concentrate on the fresh air, you breathe it. And you don't concentrate on the sunlight, you just enjoy it. It is all around."

At one point I was reluctant to admit the possibility of finding the divine in raucous cities. Perhaps my favorite city Chicago is too familiar and I know how to navigate it. But Paris has taught me cities have a peace of their own, the pulse of an uncontainable Love; they have a solitude that only enhances the silence our spirits need; to be quiet may take more of an effort but the few moments there are indeed define grace.

[Adam Quine, pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Lincoln]

Civic

Back to top