Everything on this blog is my opinion. And as far as my memoirs are concerned, my story is an expression of opinions that are very personal and a way to see life that is unique. This is what makes me me. I am aware that twelve people experiencing the same event will have radically different views on what happened and that is true even of supposed facts.
This was shown to me decades ago as I witnessed an accident only two hundred yards from the main place where my memoirs are situated, rue de Vaugirard. I was walking to the Institut Catholique where I studied languages when a car hit a motorbike. The man was lying on the floor near the street lights and passersby started to gather. This was long before the advent of mobile phones so someone popped into the cafe to call an ambulance. At that moment, looking from afar (I already hated the energy of people sucked into drama and who came to stare – probably happy that this disaster had happened to someone else and thinking about who they could tell the story to to gain some attention) I watched everyone on that intersection, a lady walking her dog, a delivery man rushing into the cafe, mums pulling their kids by the hand to go to the park, and I realised that each one would see the event through their own filters. Looking back it is quite extraordinary that I had that insight. I hadn’t been on a spiritual retreat in Bali. I was just an ordinary language student. And yet I couldn’t help being “shown” the infinite versions of the event by each individual that had witnessed the scene. Their emotional state would impact what they saw too. Some would have assumed the man dead. Others would say he was only mildly injured. And anything in between.
When we see something, our beliefs immediately kick in and interpret reality to fit our beliefs. This is the reason why people who have spiritual experiences often rationalise their experience and often completely dismiss them as their imagination.
I can no longer do that.
And yet, my memoirs and everything I wrote on this blog, are just opinions. Points of view. It is true to me. But it might not be to others. Even others who were with me when these events happened.
But then without my original opinions, I wouldn’t have a voice. And what makes my memoirs and my blog is my voice. The unique way I look at life. I moved thousands of miles away from home and I am now writing in a language that is not my native language to give myself the space to tell my truth. And yes, I am also using a nom de plume. Ange de Lumiere is not my birth name. So if you know me in “real” life, can I ask you please to be discreet about my identity as this is what enables me to be me, unapologetically. I would never have this luxury if my true identity was exposed. To start with, I would hate to hurt my mother, no matter how much she hurt me. I am not here to seek revenge.
I share my story to make a difference. To show people that it is possible to have a difficult childhood and to be happy later in life.
Blessings to you
(c) Ange de Lumiere 2016