Aligned & Awake: Walking Through Beauty, Stepping Around the Shit
Staying awake to a city that holds splendour and struggle side by side.
Aligned & Awake
My reflections on life through travel, human design, energy, astrology, and emotional clarity. Not as a guru. Just one person figuring it out in real time.
Bordeaux looks like it was built for postcards.
Golden stone glowing in the late morning light. Balconies draped in iron lace. Cafés humming with people who seem to have all the time in the world. I wander through it like a woman in a film, slow steps, sun on my shoulders, wine whispering from every side street.
And then I look down.
Dog shit.
Everywhere.
Perfect little piles sitting proud on the pavement, holding a pose. Then the other kind, the tragic smear; the evidence of someone who didn’t see it coming. A skid mark of misfortune, wiped desperately onto the ground as they tried to salvage what couldn’t be salvaged in one go.
I hop over it. I sidestep. I zigzag like a woman avoiding landmines. And I keep going.
A man sits against a stone wall, a dog curled in his lap, its fur patchy, its eyes soft. The kind of dog that would follow you anywhere. The kind that has already been everywhere. My heart pulls tight. I love dogs. Seeing them on the street hits me in a way that’s hard to soften. I remind myself that they keep each other company. Still, the sight lands deep.
Bordeaux carries contradictions in plain sight.
Beauty and ache.
Luxury and hunger.
Wine and waste.
And me in the middle of it, walking these streets with my eyes wide open.
When I’m conscious inside myself, really looking around, some days are for walking forward and hopping over whatever’s on the ground. A soft glance toward the people carrying more than they should. A quiet gratitude that my own load is lighter today.
Life lays down its piles, sure, yet it also hands out these small pockets of beauty if you’re awake enough to see them. All I can do is notice both. Keep moving. Stay mindful of the shit, and still let the light in.
As I walk back to my room, I see another smear on the sidewalk, wide and resigned. Someone had a rough morning. I step around it, grateful for the warning.
We’re all trying to avoid our own versions of it.
And some days, being awake is about knowing where to place your feet.
Other days, it’s about laughing when you don’t.
Tell Me…
Where did gratitude find you today, even in an unexpected place?