Wednesday, October 5, 2011

parlez-moi seulement dans la langue de la romance

"Despite everything, Life is Good."
Mi amiga and I had a life chat last night, in which we sat in a beautiful courtyard, under the watch of our beautiful Mama Mary, reflecting on life, love, Faith, God, happiness, beauty, what it means to be human, what it means to be a college student. Marvelling at the beauty of all things, the beauty of humanity, and just plain old beauty, my friend burst out: life is good. Because it is. It is. It is so beautiful.
I was sitting in night prayer last night at the seminary. They have Lucenarium every Thursday in their indescribably beautiful chapel. There's a large stained glass mural of Christ surrounded by angels behind the altar. The light dances off the sparkly tiled ceiling, and plays with the colors in the stained glass. There's a magical, shimmery quality to the whole church. It's the most beautiful church that was built in the sixties that I've ever seen. There's a church back at home that many families have affectionately nick-named "The Fishtank Church." The seminary's church has a very similar watery, iridescent feel, that I think the Fishtank Church was trying to capture, but never quite succeeded in doing so. At the end of Lucenarium, we sing "Come Lord Jesus," and it feels as though the whole church is quivering with desire-desire for when Lord Jesus finally comes, and we burst out from underneath the water into the sunlight and the fresh air. It's the perfect way to spend Thursday night-to wash away the work-a-day dust of the week that collects on your soul, and to prepare for the weekend.

Life is very filled with beauty right now. Sometimes I just bask in the warm afternoon sun that fills my French classroom, and I listen to everyone speaking the beautiful sounds of the most beautiful of all Romance languages, and I feel my soul purr like a small cat. Something like this:

J'entends des phrases mielleuses flotter dans l'air. Ils sont tellement beaux, j'ai douleurs.

And poetry. I sit in poetry class, listen to the carillon chime a marian hymn, and delight in the fact that despite everything, life is good. In fact, listening to French and poetry does things to me. In the most beautifully hedonistic way, the very act of listening to these sounds is such a beautiful thing, a sensual pleasure. It makes your heart beat a little faster and fantastic little thrills run up and down your spine. 

Plus also, my friend and I were just discussing how singing and music in general puts you in general, in a far better mood. It really does. Music soothes the savage beast. It's pure beauty in sound form. If everyone sang all the time, we'd really be so much happier. It's so incredible not only that we recognize and respond to beauty, but that it has such intense power to heal us, calm us, better us. Human beings are rather miraculous creatures overall. Isn't it just nice being alive? 

It has been a very happy week.

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