“Joie de vivre” – the very phrase brings a big smile to my face!  And where better to rediscover it than Paris?  The city has a kind of magic, and I love that I captured so many people’s imaginations when I shared my “month in Paris” news earlier this summer.  I thought about sharing more news along the way, maybe even daily vignettes – but in the end, I felt an almost urgent pull to stay offline. To get out and LIVE.

I still took plenty of photos, sometimes of a flower against a stone wall, sometimes of grander scenes: a cathedral (welcome back, Notre Dame!) or a blazing sunset over the Seine.  I had new experiences every day.

Paris became a pivot point for me. This past winter was extremely difficult– a mix of professional and volunteer challenges that consumed me mentally and emotionally. Add to that the toxic daily headlines in the U.S., and I was very distressed.  My month in Paris was tremendously restorative.  I paired the new experiences with some meaningful reading, including The Book of Joy (a remarkable dialogue between Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama – two deeply spiritual leaders who have witnessed the worst human suffering and yet still find ways to be joyful). The combination of experience, reflection, and wisdom reawakened my sense of shared humanity across boundaries.

I return now with renewed perspective, inspired and ready for fall. As tempting as it was to stay in Paris longer, I have no intention of becoming an expat or disengaging from the challenges here at home. Ultimately, I missed the people I’m most connected to, and I still believe in the promise of the U.S.

If you’d like to take a deeper dive into my experience, read on.

A Room of One’s Own

A month in Paris was a dream I never realized. Living it alone was a need I never recognized – until I did.

Some people called me brave for living overseas solo for a month.  I hadn’t thought about it that way, until I headed into the airport alone, after my husband dropped me off.  “Oh wow,” I thought.  “What if this is a bad idea?” 

It definitely wasn’t a bad idea, but it tested me.  I have never lived alone like this! I have always been in relationship with others, whether family, roommates, or a fiancé. I didn’t know what it was like to truly tune into my own needs: to sleep and wake when I wanted (no alarm clock for a month!).  To eat what I want, when I want (Café Liégeois for dinner, anyone?).

I had to rely on myself to figure things out. In my marriage, we’ve arrived at a satisfying division of labor, which makes things more efficient, especially once we had kids.  But it can also result in “forgetting” how to do some things myself, like figure out the detailed operating instructions on a device.

With no imposed structure, I soon found I desired a bit of my own. My mornings were my time for tea, journaling, and reading A Room of One’s Own. I’d sit by the window of my Marais apartment, enjoy a chocolate croissant, and start my Spanish lessons on Pimsleur (preparing to speak with my new son-in-law’s family later this summer).

Midday, I’d head out for a jog or walk along the Seine, stopping often to take photos.  I’d grab a jambon et fromage on fresh baguette for lunch – my favorite – and eat it back at my apartment.  There, I’d listen to The Book of Joy, a phenomenal audio book.

After showering, I’d slip into a summer skirt and some sandals and head back out.  I’d browse local shops or explore a bookstore.  I’d end up in a café, enjoying a light dinner (quiche and salad are my favorites), and a glass of wine.  Sometimes I’d skip the dinner and just have a prosecco and a Café Liégeois sundae.

It turns out I can happily self-entertain! I fully immersed in another way of life.

Tried New Things

From the small to the grand, I found myself trying new things. There was no one there to say, “you’ve never done that before!” or “that’s weird, Mom!” 

• One of my favorite things was dancing in the streets, which I did repeatedly.  It started on the summer solstice, during the “Nuit de Musique.” And there were several other times, including after the magnificent Pride parade.  So many people coming together, and so much joy!
• I went to the Beyoncé concert, where she sold out Stade de France for 3 nights on her Cowboy Carter tour. I took the Metro there and communed with so many French people dressed in full cowboy and cowgirl regalia!
• I attended the “No Kings!” (“Pas de Roi!”) rally on June 14. I’ve been to many protests, but this was my first time alone. Of course, I wasn’t really alone – a thousand people turned out, and I felt connected to them all.
• I enhanced my journaling practice. I tried using some creative writing prompts, and I started adding colors and images to my journaling – thank you, Suleika Jaouad, for your beautiful Book of Alchemy!
• I even found nature, right in the heart of the city.  I took the time to watch the beauty of a pigeon family, nested in a tree right outside my window, as their twins prepared to leave the nest. (Truly a metaphor for my own “empty nest” transition!)

Some experiences were more mundane. I had to figure out the washing machine instructions which were entirely in French.  I challenged myself to do this without using Google translate. Could I do it without ruining my clothes?  (Turns out the answer was yes!)  There were so many activities of daily living like this that I handled on my own: reading grocery store labels, deciding where best to shop, navigating a watch repair, etc. My goal was to LIVE in Paris, not be a tourist.  I succeeded!

Did familiar things, often in greater depth

• I was delighted to return to the newly reopened Notre Dame Cathedral, as magnificent as ever!  I’m not traditionally religious, but I felt drawn to visit there, along with thousands of people from around the world.  And I lit some candles, to honor those I’ve loved and lost.
• I visited the Pompidou Center (I love modern art) and went to one of the best exhibits I’ve ever seen: Paris Noir, a collection that traced the confluence and influence of Black artists, and their anti-colonial resistance, in Paris over 50+ years. I immersed in the many varied art forms at the exhibit. I loved the political statements and boundary-pushing nature of the work. I felt especially drawn to the collages of Romare Bearden.  I spent 4 hours there and read every sign. No one was waiting for me or getting impatient. 
• I attended several concerts in churches. A favorite of mine is listening to Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” and other popular classical works – this time I was moved to tears by the soprano who sang “Hallelujah” and invited us to join in. I also experienced the jubilance of “Gospel Dream,” a group of Black French people who perform Black American gospel music with tremendous joy.
• I reconnected with my mother’s 84-year-old dear friend, Olivia, who happened to be visiting Paris with her friends. We indulged in champagne and a Café Liégeois (naturally!) and reminisced about my parents and the time they all traveled on a barge through the canals of France. 

Found ways to take in the painful things

In addition to visiting the “Paris Noir” exhibit, which, while beautiful, was full of pain (and reminders of our own fraught history of racism in the US), I found reminders everywhere of another painful chapter in our world history: World War II, including the deportation of Jewish people and the Nazi occupation of Paris. There are so many scars that remain from that time. As do the strength and awareness of the dangers of authoritarianism. I thought about the rise of authoritarianism in our own country, and what we can do to prevent it, as individuals and collectively. I am captivated by the stories of bravery that have emerged from World War II, including that of a French woman (Rose Valland), a curator of art at the Jeu de Paume museum and a member of the French Resistance movement, who tracked the art that the Nazis stole from Jewish people and helped to restore it to their rightful owners after the war.

The Book of Joy was key to my processing of the painful things, past and present. I gave myself time to listen to two iconic spiritual leaders and absorb their lessons. It allowed me to see how these two leaders could address the suffering of so many people and also retain the joy of life. I embraced its “8 Pillars” and deepened my understanding of how to live during this fraught time.

Through it all, I felt an interconnectedness with our shared humanity.  Getting beyond the bubble of the US and current events was important for this perspective.

What I Gained

The 8 Pillars in The Book of Joy provided a useful framework, and some of them are included below:

• Sensory Experiences – I gained a deeper and more conscious appreciation for sensory experiences and the beauty in our world. I fully immersed in them and am deeply grateful for this.  There are so many images I captured in my photographs: sunsets on the Seine, delicious food, flowers, cathedrals.  I’ve shared some of them here.
• Being Present – Related to immersing in sensory experiences was having the freedom to not be scheduled, so I could be fully present. I was not constantly checking my watch or planning and mapping out my calendar. (In fact, I shuddered when I opened my calendar upon arrival, and I put it away!) Living in Paris required focus, as I set my English language aside. I worked to remember my French, to listen to it and to speak it as much as possible.
• Humility – Thanks to having time and space, I was able to embrace humility. I processed things that went wrong this past year, recognized my limited control over external outcomes, and thought about what I learned and can do differently in the future. 
• Perspective – Throughout the month, I experienced the interconnectedness of our shared humanity. I took in the huge exhibits on climate change at Paris City Hall and along the Seine.  We are one people on one planet. It is ironic that it took me being alone and away, to feel this connection more with strangers. I was also reminded of my deep love of the arts and culture. I welcomed getting beyond my daily doses of health policy and project plans. And, once again, being outside of our current environment in the US was very helpful.

The solitude was restorative.  It provided me with solace, serenity, and strength. It gave me joy!

With joy comes the strength to address the hard things. To mitigate the feelings of discouragement (one’s own and others’). To prevent burnout. To feel connected with others and believe in possibility. To be fully alive!  As The Book of Joy pointed out, joy can bring more generosity of spirit and more willingness to help others.

Embarking on Fall

Labor Day has always meant a return to busyness, with back-to-school activities and more client work.  I am conditioned for overload.  During my new stage of life, I’m seeking more of a balance.  I’d like to say no to overload and yes to serenity.  I’ve asked some friends to be my “accountability partners” in this. I need to build new habits, new muscle memory.

I am blessed to have a profession I’ve loved, but it has demanded so much. Sometimes I feel that I’ve become one-dimensional.  I want to lean into the other parts of me, that have been underdeveloped.  Especially my creativity!  And with that, I want to be more “minimal-list,” with fewer to-do lists!

I recognize the concentric circles of caring – I’ve been so focused on the “outermost circle” — public policy and politics.  I am rebalancing to focus some more on those who are closer to me – family, friends, community.  I am building a new stage of family life, with marriages and new additions.

I plan to be selective about what I engage in externally. I will stay connected to current events, but in very limited doses. I will continue to put energy into building community and embracing our interconnectedness. It can be a virtuous circle, if I can share my renewed strength and energy and draw even more strength and energy from doing that. 

I will be taking a more holistic approach to life, with humility. It will require some creativity, and a little improv.  I don’t have all of the answers, but I have gained more wisdom.  Paris was the pivot – the place where I rediscovered joy, began to rebalance my life, and returned with the strength and energy to face what comes next.