The (menâs) Tour de France finished yesterday and given that weâre currently residing in the French-speaking part of Belgium, the official post-race interviewsâconducted in the lingua franca of Englishâare live-translated into French by the studio commentators.
Itâs funny, because Iâm used to hearing it the other way round at home: a rider gets asked a question in their native tongue, and the British commentator talks over their incomprehensible (to me) answer.
This way round, itâs the English answer I want to hear thatâs being drowned out by an over-dub.
But I found it was relatively easy to just tune out the (much louder) translated answer and hone my attention in on the (much quieter) English one.
After a while I didnât even notice the commentatorâs narration.
And because consciousness is bonkers, itâs like it didnât even exist.
In our lives, so often we want to be more in tune with wisdom â with that quiet, intuitive voice thatâs guiding us, guiding us, guiding us⌠but thereâs this loud, yammering voice of our Thought System đŚ blatting on about this and that and what it means and whatâs wrong with it and whatâs going to happen and why itâs a bad idea and why weâre not good enough and what other people will think of us and on and on and on it goes.
I donât think you can stop it from doing that (how would you even do that?!) but you can learn to tune it out and hone your attention in on the much quieter rhythms of life itself.
Who knows, after a while you might not even notice the commentatorâs narration at all.
đ
Giles
p.s Thank goodness weâll have the (often more thrilling) Womenâs Tour de France to see us through the next week, without getting withdrawal symptoms!