The Art of Trapeze: One Woman's Journey of Soaring, Surrendering, and Awakening by Molly McCord

Author:Molly McCord
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: spiritual growth, spiritual memoir, travel memoir, consciousness mystical, consciousness expansion, paris adventure, awakening enlightenment, memoir adventure, consciousness evolution, awakening story, memoir spiritual, awakening consciousness, travel paris

IT HAD BEEN MONTHS SINCE I applied for the internship at the U.S. Embassy, and I hadn’t heard anything about it yet. Over grilled salmon and broccoli one night at Turhan’s apartment, I told him about the internship and how much I would love the opportunity to work in a diplomatic office, even if it meant moving to another European city and then coming back to Paris to finish school.

He stopped chewing and raised his eyebrows. “Hmmm. Well, we’ll have to wait and see what you hear about this opportunity.”

I looked up from my plate. I hadn’t put the pieces together until right now that a job could take me away from him. My heart sunk a few feet. I didn’t want to contemplate a long-distance separation. My time in Paris had improved greatly since he had been in my life: more friends, more social activities, a fuller weekly schedule, a hand to hold. I changed the dinner topic.

At school the following day, there was an announcement posted about an upcoming trip to the U.S. Embassy in Paris. The visit had been arranged by a professor to meet with Foreign Service Officers and discuss current international diplomatic issues. Being allowed access to the U.S. Embassy was a big deal because it was not a place any visitor could just stride into and tour around, much less meet with diplomats.

Being a determined nerd, I was again the first name on the sign-up list; the first person to arrive at the meeting place at Place de la Concorde; and the first one in line, along with Trisha, to go through security, passport in hand. Everyone handed over all of their electronic items: no phones, no cameras, no iPods allowed.

Our embassy host guided us through the imposing front doors and ushered us up a grand central staircase. Artifacts of French and American relations were in the hallways and rooms; plants sat in the corners; the floors echoed with discreet whispers and impatient high heels. We entered a massive boardroom with wood panels and grand portraits on the walls and took our seats around a central wood table. The décor was simplistic, masculine, and austere. Trisha and I exchanged looks and sat up straight in our chairs, trying not to giggle. Things are always funnier when you’re supposed to be quiet.

Three Foreign Service Officers entered the room and sat down at the far end of the imposing table. They introduced themselves as being from the political, economic, and financial departments, and then we each introduced ourselves and where we were from as if we were important, too. We discussed diplomatic duties, how diplomacy had changed in recent years, and how Foreign Service Officers had to adapt to living in a different country every four years. I was the big nerd asking every other question to get as most information as possible. Trisha silently smirked at me.

After the session, we were escorted back through the security checkpoint to collect our electronic possessions. Our group returned

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