午餐過後，踩在盧昂的石板街上，我以為只是在消化雞腿與麵包，沒想到更像是在消化時空。經過時鐘街，穿過商店街，一座白得不像話的教堂就這樣矗立在眼前──盧昂大教堂。那潔白的石灰岩外牆乾淨得像是上帝洗過的白襯衫，讓我第一眼就感受到「啊，這座教堂有在做心靈斷捨離。」
走進教堂，拱頂高聳，彷彿建築自己都在祈禱。彩繪玻璃的光傾瀉下來，簡直就是聖靈版的Disco舞池。我站在耶穌受難像前，看著那個甘願為全人類承擔苦難的身影，一邊想：「耶穌你真的很猛。」被背叛、被誤解，還能用全然的愛原諒這個世界，那是一種什麼等級的宇宙級無條件連線？
那一刻，我寫下：「啟程吧，上帝這樣告訴我：於是我來了，來感受祂的慈悲與力量。」（對，是抽精油抽到的訊息，連精油都懂我。）
晚上，來到象鼻海岸，風冷得跟內在轉化一樣猛烈，我沒有碰海水，因為我不是耶穌、也不是聖女貞德，我怕感冒。
但這片海，曾經是諾曼第登陸的戰場，如今浪靜靜地拍打著岸邊，好像一切歷史的傷口，都被這個時空的沉默包裹了。
最奇妙的，是在奧賽美術館，我竟然看到莫內畫下的──魯昂大教堂與象鼻海岸。
這太超現實了。
原來百年前，莫內也站在和我一樣的位置，凝視著一樣的光與影。那一瞬間，我懂了：有些風景，是靈魂之間的暗號，即使隔著時空，也能彼此會意。
所以啊，這段旅行，不只是旅遊，是靈魂的定軌。
我是為了提醒自己：「我不是來朝拜，我是來對齊。」
我是誰？我是我。不是誰的角色，不是誰的附屬，我是自己靈魂最清醒的版本。
在諾曼第的風裡，我沒有下海，但我已經潛進了自己。
“The Light of Rouen, the Wind of Étretat, and My Soul’s Lyrical Comedy”
After lunch, walking along the stone-paved streets of Rouen,
I thought I was just digesting duck and bread—
turns out, I was digesting time and space.
Past the Great Clock Street, through the shops,
there it stood: a blindingly white cathedral—
Rouen Cathedral.
Its limestone façade was so clean,
it looked like God Himself had laundered a white dress shirt.
At first glance, I felt:
“Ah… this cathedral is clearly into spiritual decluttering.”
Inside, the vaulted ceiling soared so high,
it felt like the architecture itself was praying.
Stained-glass light poured in from above,
like a Holy Spirit version of a disco floor.
I stood in front of the crucified Christ,
looking at that figure who willingly took on humanity’s suffering,
thinking:
“Jesus, you’re hardcore.”
Betrayed, misunderstood, crucified—
and still, you forgave the world with total love.
What level of cosmic Wi-Fi is that?
Unconditional connection on divine bandwidth.
Right then, I wrote:
“Journey on!—God said to me:
I came, to feel His mercy and power.”
(Yes, that was a message I got from drawing a sacred oil card.
Even the essential oils get me.)
—
That evening, I arrived at Étretat, the Elephant Trunk Coast.
The wind was cold—like the kind of cold that hits you during inner transformation.
I didn’t touch the sea.
I’m not Jesus, or Joan of Arc.
And I just dyed my hair—catching a cold wasn’t part of the spiritual plan.
But I knew—
this sea was once the front line of war.
The D-Day landings began from these waves.
Now, the water quietly kisses the shore,
as if every wound of history is gently wrapped by this moment’s silence.
—
The strangest magic?
At the Musée d’Orsay, I turned a corner and—
there they were.
Monet’s paintings
of Rouen Cathedral and the cliffs of Étretat.
It was surreal.
Over a hundred years ago,
he stood right where I stood,
gazing at the same light and shadows.
And in that moment, I understood:
Some landscapes are soul codes—
even across centuries, our spirits still recognize each other.
—
So no, this trip wasn’t just travel.
It was a soul alignment.
I didn’t come to worship.
I came to remember:
I am not someone’s role.
Not someone’s side story.
I am the clearest version of my own soul.
In the wind of Normandy,
I didn’t step into the sea.
But I dove straight into myself.
