Yesterday reading a book to my children I was impressed by the beauty of the word “rien”. Translated from French it means “nothing”. I repeated it in my head many times. When you pronounce it the immenseness of space opens in front of you.

Rien à dire. Rien à faire. Rien à perdre. Rien des problèmes. C’est rien. Rien de rien.

Rien. Nowhere is where you start. Nothing is what you own. These are the most powerful words that exist. They hold the place where you can live, where you can dream, where you can begin.

I was walking down the street this morning amazed by this word and what it entails. Rien.

Poussière (dust) was the other word on my mind. There is a link between these two words. The heartbeat. Both words share the beauty of the space.  Both words remind me of this song.


A place to start. A place to end. A place to be.

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