why English?

To honour my story and our becoming

Why am I writing mainly in English at the moment, when my mother tongue is French, from Quebec, Canada? When I am totally aware that the quality of my writing is so much better in French than in English?

Because, for whatever reason my father had in mind, I was sent to an English kindergarten and it is still to this day, my best school year ever. Despite the fact that on my first day, my teacher told me that it was the last time she would speak to me in French, that I should look around to the other kids to figure out what I was suppose to do. My memories of that year are filled with silence, a silence that was allowing me great freedom of inner space; and light, a white bright light flooding  the huge windows of our classroom.

Because speaking English was, for a while, a successful strategy for me to avoid going into dissociation, from zooming out when facing some earlier traumas, giving me the distance I needed to approach them, and to keep engaging in what has become a very long, challenging, transforming, amazing compassionately healing process.

Because for the last 15 years, the resources of my growth in perspectives, of my awakening to the Essence of All There Is, were coming mostly in English, through the work of Clarissa Pinkolas Estés, Deepak Chopra, Barbara Tedlock, Christiane Northrup, Eckhart Tolle, and more recently Ken Wilber, Carol Gilligan, Marion Woodman, Bessel van der Kolk, Jane Jacobs, Mary Catherine Bateson. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t have an enormous dept to the French words of Annick de Souzenelle, Marc de Smedt, Michel Oden, Frédérick Leboyer, Christiane Singer, David Servan-Schreiber and Alejandro Jodorowsky.

And because when I write in English, the absence of cultural, national references, my ignorance of so many grammar’s subtleties and words, make me acutely aware of my limits, even though I am learning and progressing on a daily base. As a result of the recognition of those limits, of the fact that I will never completely master, once and for all, a language, or life, it has created a certain type of silence within. A certain type of peace that enable me to observe, play with, integrate and evolve through the process.

And because finally, I am so grateful that speaking English had allowed me to be part of a larger conversation, with my partners in crime – friends, colleagues, fellow students, teachers, of Chinese, Hebrew, Spanish, Dutch or whatever their first language is – and bring to the table the amazing beauty and richness of my own story, my own culture, as a contribution to the bio-diversity of our consciousness.