Philosophy and Paris

I never minded getting out of bed in the morning. After waking up at 1:50 am for my internship this past summer, I cherish being curled up, tangled in my blankets and struggle to part from my excessive number of pillows.

On this particular morning after walking over 10 miles a day and three flights later, the light duvet single pillow and my kindergarten BFF on the far side of the bed was equally difficult to roll out of as my single bed with one duvet, 4 blankets and 14 pillows (I wasn’t kidding when I said it was excessive on a snowy new Hampshire morning. None the less, I gathered the little strength left pulled myself together and left to see the most important sight on my list, Sainte Chappell.

I love Cathedrals. The crisp air, how the cold refreshes my skin like splashing water on it first thing in the morning. The air is lighter and smells as fresh as mineral water tastes. It is reviving, up lifting.

In philosophy, I have read human beings are closest to the divine when we look upward and contemplate astronomy or purely the universe. I stand with my head tilting upward examining the detailed stained glass. There are details so fine, my eyes are unable to see them, but I know they must be present. Depicting stories I was told as a child beginning to dance and come to life as light peaks through the morning fog. The room becomes more magnificent as light breaks through. Yet it is so simple, dull on the screen of my phone as I snap a photo.

I can hear the pattering feet of small children as they file into the room, excited to be on a field trip instead of confined to a desk. With the new life in the room, I turn to leave.

As I attempt to describe the endless windows, detailed ceiling, and beautiful alter to Caeleigh, I realize it cannot be described. The Chappelle is an experience of ‘the beautiful’. A philosophical concept I was never fully convinced by. Until I looked back at the dull photos on my phone. Caeleigh peers at them for my amusement, but I know she does not see them the way I do. Each photo is a reminder of the actuality of the beauty I encountered. To an outsider, they are boring vacation photos.

Overwhelmed by the human craftsmanship, holy teachings, and rejuvenating morning air, I had a mere glimpse to the metaphysical as I sat with my head back taking in the Sainte-Chappelle.




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