Suite Francaise and the Question No One Can Answer in Time

 December 31, 2025

Suite Francaise and the Question No One Can Answer in Time

I’ve just finished listening to Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky, a novel written during the early years of World War II and left unfinished when the author was arrested and later killed at Auschwitz.  The history of the book gives it added weight because it was written during the actual period, yet the most striking thing to me wasn’t the tragedy, but the ordinariness.

This book is not really about heroes or villains in the usual sense.  It is a book about people cooking meals, worrying about money, caring for the children, negotiating with neighbors, and trying to remain themselves while history presses in from every side.

As I listened, one question kept returning:

Is there a moment when it becomes wiser to leave than to stay?

Is it a clear decision, an act of agency, to choose to become a refugee?  Suite Francaise shows us that people rarely know when the turning point has arrived.  They act on rumors, half-truths, fear, hope, and attachment.  They choose with children watching, with elderly parents who cannot walk very far, and with the belief that this situation cannot possibly last.

Some flee.  Some Stay.

None of them escape lass.

The novel makes it clear that there is no moral high ground here.  Leaving may preserve life but fracture identity.  Staying may preserve dignity but risk destruction.  Courage exists on both sides, and so does regret.

Reading this now, from a safe distance in time and space, I’m aware of how easy it is to judge these decisions with the advantage of hindsight.  But the people living inside the moment do not have that luxury.  They cannot see the ending.  They only know what is bearable and what is not.

Perhaps the most honest truth from the book:

Becoming a refugee is rarely a choice; it is the least unbearable option among unbearable ones.  

Perhaps refuge itself is not the destination.  Maybe it is the act of choosing what you can live with becoming.

If you are curious about this book

Suite Francaise is reflective, humane, and unsentimental.  It doesn’t tell you what to think; but it asks you to notice.  If you enjoy literature that explores moral ambiguity, resilience, and the interior lives of ordinary people during extraordinary times, it is well worth reading or listening to. 

Still Curious. Still Growing, Still Grateful.

by Janis @ Simple Raw and Natural

 

December 3, 2025

Maison Tranquille

The Quiet I Crave

This afternoon, I noticed, an irritation,  at the sound of the television in our living room. Not the show itself but its presence… the way it intruded into the atmosphere I was holding inside.

I don’t think the problem is the television.

It’s that I am learning how I crave quiet space, a room that feels like a sanctuary, that protects the small rituals I’m trying to cultivate.

Maison Tranquille (the name I’ve given my house) has to live inside before it can touch the outside.

Peace is not always found far away.  Sometimes it is just a closed door, a lit candle, or clarity about what space belongs to what purpose.

Maybe this, too, is part of aging;  learning what supports our nervous system, and what frays it. 

Maybe this is part of marriage;  the negotiation between one person’s comfort and the other’s.

Or maybe this is simply another invitation:

Notice where your peace gets interrupted.
Because that interruption reveals what matters.

Today, mine was the television.

Tomorrow it may be something else.

But at least I’m learning to call it by its name.

Still Curious. Still Growing, Still Grateful.

by Janis @ Simple Raw and Natural

Main Character Energy… in a House Full of Main Characters

11/27/2025

Main Character Energy… in a House Full of Main Characters

There’s something beautiful about spending a week at the beach with a house full of family. It’s never quiet, never predictable, and never just one storyline. It’s more like an overlapping collage of happenings.

And yet, in the middle of all of this, there is another version of main character energy, one that doesn’t compete with anyone else’s story.

This isn’t the loud, front-and-center kind of main character energy. It’s not about being the center of attention or the person with the most star power.

It’s the kind that acknowledges:

I get to have my own experience here.

I get to tend my own spirit.

I get to enjoy this week in a way that nourishes my body, my mind, and my soul.

All without stepping on anyone else’s toes.

Because everyone here is the main character in their own movie.

And honestly, that’s what makes it beautiful.

There are all the characters, the storytellers, the planners, the cooks, the ones who nap, the ones who are busy, the ones who stay up too late, the ones who wake up early, the ones playing games, the ones finding solitude in their rooms, and the ones sharing special moments together.

And then there’s me, living in my own storyline at the same time.

My version of main character energy is simple:

A morning coffee on the beach.

Making my nourishing smoothie and a few dishes to add to the meals at the beach house.

Sitting in my chair on the beach and watching the waves.

Noticing what’s beautiful, especially the ordinary beauty.

Savoring the conversations I want, and letting the rest flow around me.

Not rushing or forcing. Staying present.

This kind of presence doesn’t interfere with anyone else’s experience.

It lets everyone hold their own storyline while I hold mine.

It lets this week be spacious instead of overwhelming.

It lets the little moments feel like scenes I’ll want to remember.

Maybe that’s what growing older teaches us; not how to steal the spotlight, but how to hold our own space, quietly, steadily, and with grace that doesn’t need to be the center of attention in order to be felt.

This week, I’m practicing soft main character energy.

Present in my own story.

Happy to let others be the star of theirs.

And grateful to witness all the different stories happening around me, together, under one beach house roof.

 

Still Curious. Still Growing, Still Grateful.

by Janis @ Simple Raw and Natural