It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. Lots going on. Been traveling and running all over. I promised myself I would only write when I have something to say. Feeling like I “have to write” something is never motivation for me. I’ll try and be more consistent…when I feel the urge. I’m totally “ADD” so I usually have 20+ different things I’m trying to accomplish at a time…..SQUIRREL! This usually results in me accomplishing exactly nothing. Good times. It’s exhausting. I’m exhausting. It’s funny how something like traveling brings all these things to the surface. Every time I travel I get super motivated to do all the things I keep pushing aside. I’m not sure why it happens but it literally happens to me every time. Normally the post travel energy fades when faced with the routine of every day life. That is, until I “met” Paris….
I’m not sure why I chose Paris. Maybe too many episodes of “Emily in Paris?” Perhaps. However, I love historical shows/movies about European countries. I’m drawn to them for whatever reason. I think I just like old things. The old ways. Before cell phones and social media turned us into freaks who can’t even carry on a conversation. There were cultural protocols and respect was something people took seriously. So I think part of me longs for some of that. I am certainly glad we have Google and shower on the “reg” but it’s fun to imagine I could have survived back then. I’ll admit my view of Europe was a bit outdated and fairytale-esque but that’s what makes traveling fun. I was literally like a kid at Christmas. I was nervous and excited! What would it look like? Would the French people be kind to us? Do they have enough Rose’ on hand bcs I LOVE French wine?! When we took off from Philly, I watched the flight simulator most of the night. No sleeping for me. I was literally crossing unchartered waters and I didn’t want to miss a thing! When we landed in the morning I’m sure the whole plane knew it was my first time. Virgin perma-grin party of one right here! I looked out of every available window to see if Paris was as I imagined it. My curiosity was going to have to wait as I quickly learned airports aren’t that exciting no matter where you are.
I could detail every minute of our trip and suck you into Paris with me one more time…but that’s not what “this” is all about. “This” is about what happens to you when you step outside your comfort zone and immerse yourself into another culture. If you open yourself to such things, you won’t even know it’s happening. You speak English. They speak French. You don’t know your way around. They know you don’t know your way around. You want to be friendly and approach people. They prefer you don’t. You give them your best efforts at speaking French. They answer in English. It takes about a day of recognizing the differences before you fall into a new step. They don’t want you to be them. They want you to be you but also respect their culture. The French savor every moment. They love to be outside. They eat outside. They play outside. Until late into the evening you can find the Parisian’s outside doing something. They gather at parks to break bread or just chat. They walk or bike everywhere. They go to work later in the morning and take long lunches. They eat dinner late and take time to enjoy each course. The noise of the city is constant. It’s chatter, laughter, horns, sirens, trains…city sounds. Somehow it becomes part of the backdrop to everything that’s beautiful about Paris. The architecture, the tree-lined streets, the colorful doors…it captivates you without warning. Something sparks inside you as you find your way…
If you asked me “what” it was for me I would say everything. I loved watching how the French “do” life. It’s busy and relaxing at the same time. The language is absolutely beautiful. Without knowing how to say anything except “I have prepared the coffee” – useless information lol, I loved hearing every word they spoke. They could have been telling me they were going to kill me and bury me in the Catacombs and it would have sounded like a beautiful concerto. You want to be as cool as they are but that would be impossible. They work off of a different operating system. They believe in experiencing life without haste. Slow. Savor. Enjoy. Engage. Listen. Relax. Smoke. Drink. Holiday. Be. It’s fascinating. I hail from a place that moves at about a 1/4 of the speed of Paris yet life literally moves 10x faster. Why is that? Different operating systems. We are do, do do. Faster, better, quicker. Work is always the priority. Be the first in and the last to leave. No time off. We reward this system. Without living one day in their system, I could see & feel the difference. The air was thick with possibilities and I was breathing them into my being. Maybe bcs a part of me has always wanted to live this way. It felt at home in a strange way. But I knew it would only be with me as long as I was with them. Unless I I could figure out a way to take home the best souvenir imaginable….
When I flew home I wasn’t sad to leave. I was exhausted and in a wine coma if I’m being honest lol. I am lucky enough to live in one of the most beautiful places on the east coast. And I am grateful for that every day. But the one thing I’ve never found anywhere is balance. Maybe I could find a way to accomplish all the things I’ve dreamed of by tapping into the French operating system. After surviving cancer I have always tried to make “me” a priority. It’s a hard thing to do in a society that wants “me” too. You feel guilty if you don’t share. But I realized I was oversharing. During Covid I was so busy at work there was no time for “me.” The upside was “me” made great money and in my business you have to make it when it’s here. But when the dust settled “me” was buried somewhere in the rubble. I was helping anyone who needed it except “me.” And to be honest it felt better to help them than to take care of “me.” That would require “me” to face up to some things. I have been in survival mode for far too long. The war was over, yet I was always preparing for the next battle. I was exhausted. Tired. Worn out. Nothing to give yet I found a way as long as it didn’t involve taking care of “me.” So how did a trip to Paris bring all of this out of me? Glad you asked….
I saw people talking to each other again. Really talking to each other. Listening. Enjoying the conversation. Dinner wasn’t 2 people on cell phones while they waited for food. They talked. And listened. And laughed. And talked more. They ate. Slowly. Time passed. They didn’t care. No one was worried about getting to work at the crack of dawn. They were in the moment. Bcs of them I was able to be in the moment too. I “lived” in Paris. I walked everywhere. I took in the simplest pleasures like the smell of fresh baked pastries and pastel painted doors with ornate fixtures. The smell Coffee that was being sipped/savored not consumed on the run. Baguettes and wine in the park. Beautiful tree lined streets at night. People speaking French with passion and laughter. A crowded Metro with people who weren’t afraid to help you find your way. A group of men dressed in costumes dancing around the street late at night. Eating with strangers who became friends. This was my Paris.
The reality of coming home was posting the highlights of my trip on Facebook and realizing that somehow meant I wouldn’t be expected to share the magic in person. Somehow Facebook is a conversation. Hit me like a brick. The floodgates poured out realizations. We don’t talk to each other anymore. We text, email or post on social media. That’s how we communicate. We order food as a means to survive. We eat fast and move on to the next thing. We don’t want to wait for anything….no matter how good it is. There’s a life we live through social media that has somehow replaced our operating system. We’ve been rebooted. Reprogrammed. I don’t want to play along anymore. I want to experience everything and enjoy it slowly savoring every moment.. And I won’t feel guilty about it. Because I AM “me.” I am worth waiting for.