Strawberry Wisdom
A book on the wisdom of my life, born from 60 years of eclectic international adventures - Coming soon -
Chapter 1 - Childhood - Excerpts
At six years old, I entered primary school and everything changed. My teacher was very strict. She rarely smiled and left little room for error. She taught us to write with a fountain pen and ink. For my clumsy little hands, it was a constant source of anxiety. I could never avoid the blots and stains, and my notebooks were quickly decorated with these little ink accidents. When I made stains, she would hit my fingers with a ruler. Instead of going to recess, I stayed locked in the classroom to correct my mistakes. I often cried. I felt ashamed and rejected. The hardest part was the humiliation. She made us walk in the yard with our ink-stained papers pinned to our backs.
I now practice in my home what I call the "strawberry philosophy":
Gentleness in words, even when the day stings a little.
Patience, because no seed grows in a day.
Gratitude, because there is always something to savour, even in rainy moments.
And above all, Presence. Because what a child desires more than anything is not gifts — it is for us to truly be by their side.
Chapter 2 - Adolescence - Excerpts
Just before the holidays, I was struck by viral meningitis. It began with an intense headache and severe stomach pain, so overwhelming that it felt unbearable. [...] Then came the moment I will never forget: they arrived with syringes the size of rolling pins, the terrible lumbar punctures. They asked my mother to leave the room. That was their first mistake. What followed felt like pure chaos. I screamed, cried, resisted, and fought with everything I had as they tried to perform the procedure. The first attempt failed, and they had to call for two additional staff to hold me still. After another unsuccessful try, they finally allowed my mother back into the room to calm me down. Only then were they able to complete the procedure.
It was four hundred and seventy kilometres of breathtaking landscapes in all their diversity and beauty. Baboons along the roadside, terraced plantations, Maharajah palaces with sublime gardens, gigantic dams, endless fields of agriculture and palm trees, mountains with narrow passes. We stopped along the way to sleep in a lodge in the middle of the jungle in Mysore. The next morning after a hearty breakfast, a surprise awaited me: an elephant ride! Well, the comfort was another story, it felt like riding a rickety castle but what an unforgettable experience, with a front-row view of the flora and fauna, beautiful birds, monkeys and strange sounds! The highlight of this expedition? Coming across an Indian bison! I was not feeling very brave on the back of that massive elephant, just five metres from the beast. The guide signalled us to remain silent, as if to say: "one wrong move, and it's carnage." Terrified, I had never listened to anyone so well in my entire life!
When I succeeded at the flute and in mathematics a warmth rose in my chest. It was not just the vibration of the note, but the realisation that I had had the courage to try despite my fear of not succeeding, pushing myself beyond my limits. It was proof that I was not "useless", as certain adult phrases had led me to believe, yet I held onto a certain pride in my few successes.
My freedom was not ideological or rebellious, but experimental. I took my freedom wherever I was allowed to breathe, and even when it was not given. My freedom did not proclaim itself; I savoured it in small doses as I grew, and I could finally be fully myself.
Chapter 3 - Twenties - Excerpts
New York had given me vertigo, with its hundreds of buildings, its endless crowds of every culture, and its delusions of grandeur. Florida amazed me with its sunlit beauty and dream houses and sunburned my back. Djerba taught me balance on water and the warmth of its people. England taught me to accept difference, in its culture, its people, its food, its way of life. It was where I first built a life as an adult in a couple. I thought I was travelling to see the world, but in reality, I was returning each time and seeing myself differently. Faced with American excess, I discovered my fire. Faced with other cultures, I measured my own habits and beliefs. Faced with the unknown, I tested my courage.
Alexandre was born on March 8th, 1992, at 4 p.m. — a big, beautiful baby of just over four kilos. The birth was natural, with only a TENS machine to ease the pain, and an oxygen mask at the hospital. I was breathing in so much oxygen that the nurses had to take the mask away so I wouldn't fall asleep between contractions! After my earlier meningitis experience, I had refused any injections, no matter what. Alex was so perfect that I fell in love all over again — this time with a little cherub ready to conquer the world.
I clung for a long time to the idea that everything had to be perfectly orchestrated in order to succeed. But life was teaching me something else: perfection is only a reassuring illusion. Resilience, on the other hand, is real. It shows up in decisions made despite fear, in imperfect projects I chose to complete anyway, in my ability to keep moving forward when the original plan collapsed.
Chapter 4 - Thirties - Excerpts
During the performance of Volpone on the stage of the local theatre, I was wearing a beautiful long dress. Alas, underneath it, I had on a rather flimsy bodysuit… and when Volpone pushed me onto the bed on stage, there was a crack, and then: all the buttons decided to pop open! Fortunately, those cheerful little explosives were noticed neither by the audience nor by my fellow actors, but my heart performed a triple axel, I can assure you!
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It was at that time in my life that my dear Annie, in full ninja and wellbeing adventurer mode, sent me a VIP pass to the kingdom of Qi Gong. The gentleness of each movement synchronising with our mindful breath, along with a version of tai chi and its fan worthy of a star from a Chinese opera. [...] So much so that, after a few months, I found myself becoming an improvised teacher for a group galloping along the path of awakening, under her protective eye, triggering aches from laughter… and I absolutely loved it! Those classes were both a remedy and a gallery: they kept my personal clouds at bay as I focused on this captivating art that had won me over.
My years of studying Eastern practices had blossomed into friendship and discovery, revealing the decoded mysteries of hidden health. Fragments of a puzzle were falling into place in my mind… gentle, extraordinary medicine. From that moment on, I began to understand the reasons behind the ailments I had experienced in the past, and I also realised just how wonderfully complex and interconnected our bodies are, forming a whole both within and without.
I was fascinated by this new teaching and longed to learn more and more, eagerly awaiting the following month’s classes.
Chapter 5 - Forties - Excerpts
A delightful little detail: we were not allowed to speak or exchange knowing little waves for ten days. At first, it felt like an Olympic trial: staying glued to my cushion, meditating for hours on end! On the fourth day, I felt a sharp pain in my heart area, which brought tears to my eyes. I had to leave the meditation hall so as not to disturb the others. [...]
The benefits in my life were greater calm, wisdom, and clarity in my thoughts and beliefs. I had overcome and understood many of my past behaviours, and learnt how not to react the moment I felt affected by external people or events.
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Whenever I saw them, I would click my tongue against my palate several times to say hello, but they would look at me, probably wondering why on earth I was doing that and what I wanted from them. [...]
Then, all of a sudden, I saw a colobus monkey in front of me, watching me through the insect net that protected me. I got out of bed very slowly and went closer to look. The monkey moved to the side of the hut, and when our eyes met, I was stunned to see it imitate my clicking sound with such confidence that I remained frozen, open-mouthed, utterly charmed by such intelligence! Then it disappeared into the dense vegetation, and I never saw it again.
We had finally found them perched right at the top of trees more than fifteen metres high, and had managed to get within six metres of them. We were covered in tiny black midges, attracted by our sweat, as we watched this enormous silverback gorilla with his entire family, eating leaves from the tops of the trees. [...]
His size was truly impressive, his back almost as wide as a car. He must have weighed more than two hundred kilos! [...]
Some younger ones were resting on lower branches, while a little one was doing somersaults around a tree trunk in front of our cameras, as if he knew we were taking his photograph. It was a magical and extraordinary sight, one that has remained etched in my memory forever.
Chapter 6 - Fifties - Excerpts
One Friday evening, on the eve of the big departure, the call of Indian spices echoed within me, just a stone’s throw from the hostel I was staying at. At last, I gave in and went to the restaurant I had walked past morning and evening, and which was deserted most of the time!
A young man at the counter helped me make the right menu choice, then asked whether I wanted to eat in or take away. Having noticed that there was only one customer on the terrace, I told him I would only dine there if he came and chatted with me at my table, which he happily agreed to do. And there I was, face to face with a Pakistani man who surprised me with the only French phrase he knew, whose words come in a different order from the English: “tu me manques” and “I miss you”.
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Monday: Argamasilla de Alba, here I am again at Susana’s, forty years later! The Spanish buried deep inside me resurfaced as if by miracle, and the reunions followed one after another, between historical tales and churros dipped in thick hot chocolate. What a treat, and what a joy, to see all of this second family again, where I was still welcomed with open arms!With pleasure and wonder, I revisited the sites, towns and villages in the surrounding area, though I barely remembered them. I found even more inspiration sitting at Cervantes’ writing table, in the cellar where he had once been imprisoned.
After more than two years in a relationship with my current partner, I feel as though I am coming back to life, becoming the real Babette again: the one who laughs a lot, acts the fool, dares to say and do all sorts of things and silly nonsense, sometimes cheeky and playful.
I had not realised just how much I had forgotten all those facets of my character. I feel far more serene within, as if my soul had found its path again and was coming back to life more vibrantly than ever.