Bridges
Pont du Change, Paris
“Those French have a different word for everything!” — Steve Martin
Pont = Bridge
Du = of
Change = ______ (….you know this one)
The first time I went to Paris, it was a stop on the way to Montpellier where I was to spend my junior year abroad. We were a dozen or so jet-lagged college students: excited, exhausted, and not very fluent in the language (especially moi). Our professor chose this opportunity to introduce us to “le théâtre de l’absurd.” We drank wine and attended late-night plays where both the language and the concepts were obscure. My disorientation was complete.
My dream since I was 12 years old was to travel to other countries, and France topped my list. Eight years later, surrounded by rapid-fire French on crowded Parisian streets, I discovered the reality was so much harder than the dream.
Vocabulary lists and controlled language lab hours couldn’t prepare me for real-time French. Six weeks into my student life in Montpellier, I had to let go of the illusion that the language “would just come” or that I would somehow discover it, without much sweat on my brow.
My native language was no longer useful in this new land. My new language was at a toddler stage, and could not reflect who I was. And who was I anyway, in this world without my words?
Finally, I gave up the idea of who I thought I should be — a person who breezes through challenges and conquers languages with ease — and faced the reality of my struggle, of how much I didn’t know and how much I had to learn. Without my words, which I leaned on heavily to shape my sense of self, I confronted a void that was inside me. It was humbling, coming upon this blank space within, unadorned by the trinkets of ego accessories —and at the same time, freeing. I no longer had to pretend to myself or the world that I was someone I wasn’t. I took a deep breath and stood taller, preparing myself: It was time to get to work. My shift to fluency began.
I began carrying a small notebook with me everywhere. I wrote down words I didn’t understand and used my French-French dictionary to look them up. This meant I didn’t translate back into English but kept my brain locked into French. Inevitably, I had to look up words within the French dictionary, with French definitions, which further expanded my notebook entries and deepened my understanding of the language. I began fine-tuning my ear to the way the French around me spoke. I practiced my pronunciation. “How would a French person say this?” I asked myself. I put more effort into my oral musculature: wider smile for the “EEE” sound, more bunched lips for the “OOO” sound.
This experience had a profound impact on my life decisions after college. I became a speech-language pathologist with a particular empathy for those who’d lost their language to stroke or cancer or progressive neurological diseases. I listened to my patients beyond their words and tried to connect with who they still were, despite their tracheostomy tubes or word-finding difficulties or confusion. I encouraged their family members to see that their loved one was still in there, they just didn’t have access to their words, or they found the words flying around them didn’t make sense. “Think if you were plopped down in China and couldn’t understand anyone around you and you also didn’t have any words to say what you wanted to communicate.”
Now, looking back at both my first time in Paris and my most recent, I am grateful for the gift of not knowing. It gives space for new ideas and new ways of being in this world to emerge.
When I took this photo on my last night in Paris, I didn’t know that the name of this beautiful bridge is Pont du Change. How fortuitous, I thought, as I sifted through my vacation pictures this morning. We all need that bridge to help us navigate change. It takes true courage to face the void that looms when you’re between lands. If you’re not who you used to be, who are you now? Releasing parts of your identity that have shaped your basic sense of self but no longer serve you feels vulnerable, anxiety-provoking. I know. But I am convinced this brave self-examination is worth the risk. Indeed, it led my to my second, very fulfilling career as a life coach.
Do you sometimes feel the person you used to be no longer fits who you are now? Do you sense an urge to explore what else is ready to emerge for you in your life? I encourage you to try looking beyond your old stories with honesty, kindness, and courage. Ideally, find a supportive friend or coach to walk with you on this path. It’s your very curiosity and willingness to grow that create the bridge necessary to help you cross over the void of unknowing. Suspended above these dark waters, you are supported, knowing your bridge will deliver you into new territory where you are free to explore new ways of being. My hope for you is that you embark upon — and relish — this journey along your very own, beautiful Pont du Change.
For the month of June, I am offering 5 free, no-strings-attached gift sessions. Be in touch if you’d like to learn more.