If I am here before you today,
me, Karine, a 42-year-old woman,
it's to share a human experience with you.
No, I didn't invent the light bulb,
not even the butter slicer,
and besides, I wouldn't even be able to.
If I am here before you,
while my legs, my hands are shaking like never before,
and my insides at this moment are turning into a liquid state,
(Laughter)
it's to talk to you of this ability we all have,
I am sure of it,
to transform every hardship, however painful,
into something positive, first of all for yourself
and for others as well.
I am here before you but I should be dead.
But not from sickness, no,
not as a consequence of a serious accident,
no, none of that, but I'll come back to it later.
There was a time when I had everything,
an exciting job,
my soulmate as a husband
and a child, a girl.
My existence was following a perfectly peaceful path.
We both had careers,
we changed cars regularly,
we went on vacations, we owned an apartment
and then we began to dream of a house, a beautiful house.
My husband would have drawn the plans, I'd have thought about the decoration,
There would have been a yard for the kids,
yes, we had decided to have others,
and for the cat as well.
In short, everything was perfect,
comfortably commonplace.
And then everything fell apart :
for 3 years, violent events came up one after another
with relentless regularity.
First my professional life
paid the price of a labor court procedure.
I was the one who took it on.
Psychological harassment.
At first, I won,
then without too much explaining,
justice took away with one hand
what they had given me with another.
I have to say that psychological harassment is so subtle.
Above all, I lost a lot of money and self-esteem.
In the middle of all this, I was pregnant with my second child.
Another girl though, but we were happy.
I also lost her,
at birth.
She died in my womb,
I had to give birth to her,
and accept that I would never hear her cry.
Accept that she had left me forever.
She was so beautiful, so perfect.
And then, my husband that left me,
4 months after the birth of our third child.
I was strongly set on recovering from my failures though,
but I lost him too.
There, that was the final blow.
That's how I ended up
lost, alone in the world,
alone in my world
that had become a real nightmare.
A permanent nightmare!
Filled with suffering, grief,
fear, and emptiness.
I had no husband, no job,
no money,
with two young dependent children and tons of mourning to do.
All my dreams had gone up in smoke.
Getting back on my feet? I thought it was an impossible mission.
Anyway, each attempt to get myself out of this situation
by sheer mental force
ended in failure.
Finding a job: failed!
Finding love, in my state,
failed!
Oh when it has us in its grip!
Yes, at that moment, I almost jumped.
It was from the top of my balcony on the 5th floor,
one July evening almost 5 years ago.
I didn't do it, but, you will admit, given my situation,
the idea was rather tempting.
No, that day, I made the difficult choice to stay alive.
I say difficult, because at that instant, to die would almost have been a relief.
But I made the choice to stay alive, at least in appearance.
For many months, I was unable to move,
I just survived,
with an empty heart,
a stomach full of heavy hardships,
that were indigestible.
The more time went by,
the more I began to shut myself in my victim skin
that ended up fitting me wonderfully:
I had become a master in the art of negativity.
I am completely useless, I'll never get anywhere.
Why does fate deal such a cruel hand?
What did I do to deserve all of this?
When will the tide finally turn?
Do you know what happens when you have nothing left to lose?
Because then, I must say, I had nothing left to lose.
When you have reached that low, you want it to stop, to change.
If I was to live,
I was ready to try everything as long as it changed the state I was in.
Everything or almost, I remained vigilant, attentive.
My survival instinct still worked, after all.
Nevertheless, something strange happened.
I let go of my last mental resistances.
I gave up control,
and everything opened up,
everything became possible.
I first met someone, and then another and another.
New people, some were strangers,
it was as if we had to be put on the same path
not for nothing, not by chance.
It was as if we had to meet, to talk,
everything sounded very right.
These people, with simplicity and benevolence,
showed me a whole different way of seeing things
with such good sense.
They taught me about changing posture,
And what I was hoping for finally came.
It changed everything.
Eventually, a part of me decided to get back on my feet.
A part of me decided to face things head-on,
pushed me to look at myself right in the face.
Me, enclosed in my self-victimization,
I was finally able to take a step back,
to look at the events from a distance.
Look, it's like a movie theater,
If you fix the eye of the camera
on an element of the setting that is particularly terrifying
then zoom out again, again, and again,
put this element back into its global context,
into its place, all of a sudden, it becomes a lot less frightening.
I was finally able to bring
the tragic events of my existence into perspective.
I was finally able to see the space that remained for the rest.
And since I was alive, that space was immense.
Changing posture allowed me to review the story
while keeping in mind my share of responsibility.
That's right, we all have a share of responsibility
in everything that happens to us in our life.
And saying that doesn't mean beating yourself up,
on the contrary.
There is our share,
which we can act on, understand, intergrate,
ingest, heal if needs be,
to change our manner of being, to no longer imitate.
And there is the share of responsibility of others.
That which has to be left to them.
The share that is impossible to intercede on.
That which you have to let go of, accepting being powerless.
How arrogant, if we think about it,
to believe that we have the ability to intervene
on the part of others' responsibility.
How exhausting really.
I want justice to be fair.
I want my daughter to live.
I want my husband to stay.
All this, I let go of
and I already felt a lot lighter.
Well I have to confess to you,
changing posture didn't happen in one day. No.
Obviously, I made a few round trips
here and there.
And obviously, the victim in me came out on a few occasions
and by the way, it still does sometimes.
But I see it coming now, and I face it head-on right away.
It became a reflex.
Imagine how magic changing posture is,
how it changes everything.
Our view of ourselves, of others,
of life in general.
It even allows for humor.
It opens doors, horizons, possibilites,
and at times even,
it reveals hidden treasures here, there, on the inside,
that we didn't imagine.
Inside me, since childhood there was a hidden desire to write.
I was doing it, well, it was my career,
but I decided to do it differently,
for pleasure.
So I wrote a text,
texts filled with humor,
stuffed with irony
to talk about my experiences,
about women, kids, men,
about women with kids who are looking for men
and about society in general.
I wrote one, then two, then 13,
then I opened a Facebook page to share them,
and it worked.
"Bravo,
it's basically my life", said the comments
One day, I compiled them,
then I sent them to an editor found by chance on the internet.
The editor needed 40 pages, I had exactly 40.
I still remember the day he replied,
this "Yes",
this setence full of compliments
that talked about the unanimity of the reading commity.
Joy brings about joy,
it brings about effort, the desire to move forward,
to leave the past behind you,
without ignoring it, oh no,
but transforming it.
Transforming indigestible things into positive things.
Transforming hardship into experience for what comes next.
And then I started my own business.
I had no job,
I created one fit to my size, made for me.
Writing for others, articles, brochures, okay.
But also portraits, story-telling,
recounting stories.
Recounting those that do and what motivates to do,
in depth.
To find their meaning and to bring it to light.
I don't really know what life has in store for me,
but I am no longer afraid.
I love my life down to the smallest details,
and if I were to do it again,
I wouldn't change a thing.
Because I know that the hardships that I experienced
contributed to the woman that I am today.
What a gift!
I am still writing,
there is a new manuscript that is circulated in the editors' office.
Because through my story, I intend to bear witness
of this power, our power, to change posture
in order to overcome, to transform everything.
Hardship into experience, Experience into the power of life,
yes, I intend to bear witness
because I know that hardships,
small or large,
can affect each and every one of us.
They have no race, culture, or border.
In my close environment at the moment,
there is a woman whose husband is dying from cancer,
and to stick the knife deeper, their only child has a degenerative disease
and he will perhaps not be able to grow old.
I know what this woman will go through.
Perhaps she will find herself in her turn.
Perhaps she will not believe herself capable of picking herself up.
So if my account could help her a little...
But beyond tragic situations, I must tell you,
changing posture works every time.
So there are many situations in everyday's life
that can put you on the small floating victim's island.
Imagine,
your youngest chooses the day
of that unavoidable business meeting
to get up in the morning with a 104 degree fever
"Shit! This kid! This can't be happening, I can't handle this!"
You light the last candle, the meal is ready,
you're wearing your special romantic evening dress.
The telephone rings, it's your husband, he seems embarrassed,
"Yes, honey, it's me, I'm calling you quickly, I am sorry,
tonight I'm coming home late, I have a meeting."
"I'm fed up with this guy!"
Your boss asks you, kindly but firmly,
to postpone the day you leave for vacation,
when your bags are already packed
and in the trunk of your car, your family is waiting,
the plane takes off in 2 hours...
So tired of this shit job.
Last case, an old lady,
totally impolite but sure of herself,
cuts you in the line at the till at the super market,
pushing you.
Old hag! Floating victim's island.
Change your posture immediately!
What is your share of responsibility in what is happening to you?
What is making you suffer so much?
What had you planned?
What are you a victim of?
And by the way, are you the victim?
And then, leave the share of responsibility to the others.
Finally, open up here. Let the creativity come.
Invent, imagine, laugh, transform!
It is almost 5 years that I should have been dead.
If I had been told that I'd be here, now,
sharing my human experience with you...
that changing my posture saved me
and then that it still saves me everyday.
Because it allows me to be alive,
so alive, and happy to be it.
Thank you.
(Applause)