I am

I am looking at her. I am reading her lines, the lines of her round eyelids, of her high eyebrows, of her wimpy chin and her sharp shoulders. “Are you an artist?” she asks me. I have almost captured the straightness of her hair. “No, I am still a student.” She looks disappointed. Me too. Why am I not an artist already?
Do you remember what Laura told you once in the bus in China? It was an Indian mantra that she kept repeating to herself:
“You already are what you want to be”.
So, be, Juliette. Just, be.

I am walking down the street, avenue de Friedland in Paris, heading to Le Balzac where I am joining my friends to eat delicious pastas. I am holding the book I discovered a few months ago and that became my “bible”, “Conversations with God” by Neale Donald Walsch. I read a few lines, I walk a few miles. Words that beseech me to be what I really am:
When you pray, don’t wish to be someone different. Be grateful for what you already are. Because every wish you pronounce aloud will become reality.
Thus, if you say: “I want to be rich”. This statement will become reality. That means you will be someone who wants to be rich.
On the contrary, if you say: “Thank you, I am rich.” This statement will become reality. That means you will be someone who is rich.

These words are immediately echoing back very deeply inside my heart.
“I am a painter!” “I am a dancer!” I am shouting in the street!
I am beautiful! I am generous! Je suis aimante! Je suis confiante! I am wonderful! I am an artist! I am a photographer! I am a sculptor! I am a set designer! I am a painter! I am a dancer! I am a painter! I am a painter! I am getting closer and closer to the restaurant.
I am a painter!
I am a painter.

Inside, I meet two friends that I know quite well and a third one that I might have met once. I say to the latter: “Hello! I am sorry I don’t remember your name.”
Don’t worry, she answers, me neither. I don’t remember your name but I do remember that you are a painter.

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