Picture this: Paris, a city known for its enchanting streets and inviting cafes. There's something about Paris that makes you slow down and savor the moment. It's a remedy for life's breathless rush. 

Whenever I find myself caught in the hustle and bustle, I often think back to recent moments in Paris. A simple remedy for life's complexities: a plate of snacks and a refreshing St Germain Spritzer at a Parisian cafe. Add a few quirky passersby, and suddenly, life feels beautifully unpredictable!

But what made those moments truly special wasn't just the ambiance or the delicious bites. It was the person sitting across from me – my friend.

Over the years, my friend and I have shared countless stories, and yet, in Paris, I realized there was still so much more to discover about her. It was a lesson in listening, not just with my ears but with my heart.

In the midst of clinking glasses and the lively chatter of fellow cafe-goers, I discovered that the art of connection doesn't always need words. Sometimes, it's in the shared silence, the subtle shifts in body language, and the unspoken understanding that flows effortlessly between friends.

Life has its ups and downs, its blessings and its challenges. It's like the curses mentioned in the Bible – some from God, some from man. We all have our share of misfortunes and hardships that feel like curses. Something hard in our childhood, personal losses, finacnial burdens – they can all seem like curses in our lives. But are they all bad?

Could it be that in the grand scheme of things, even our curses serve a purpose?  If they are from God they most certainly should serve a purpose and focus on life.  If they are man’s curses they focus on the self, sin. Does God work all things for our good, as the Bible suggests? And do our own emotions of anxiety, tention, and stress that stem from these experiences, urge us to see a bigger picture?

Sometimes, it's difficult to sit with these emotions, to recognize what they're trying to tell us. But the best moments come when we catch our breath again. So, how do we do breathe again?  How do we breathe into a life of peace, wholeness?

The path to peace may be unique for each of us, but it's there. For me, it involves taking a rest day each week, deep scriptural study, and embracing habits that align with my rhythm. And, of course, connecting with others at the table.

There's something about sharing a table with someone. Whether it's their calm presence or simply the fact that they're not in the same emotional whirlwind, it's a grounding experience. And then, there's the beauty of being there for a friend, helping them unwind, and simply being present in the moment.

In the heart of Paris, where history and modernity coexist, I discovered that life's true essence lies in being present with a friend. Even when the world feels heavy, friends have this magical way of making it lighter. It's about patience, empathy, and stepping into their world, even if just for a while.

As the sun bathed the Parisian sidewalk in a warm, golden glow and I savored my St Germain cocktail, it wasn't just the flavors that captivated me. It was the simple joy of being present, of cherishing the bonds of friendship, and of finding life amidst the weights of existence.