I woke up around noon this past Sunday. Devyn was in Nice with her parents, so I had the place to myself. No one around, nowhere to be, and nothing to do. So...now what? The sun shone through the curtains, lighting up a beautiful day that almost demanded me to go outside. So I did just that. Left the apartment and took to the streets. No plan. No destination. Just my iPod, a sunny day, and les rues de Paris.
Spring is a time when the world comes back to life. The grass emits that bright green glow, leaves sprout on the trees, and the world starts to breathe again. Couple these signs of life with the heartbeat of Paris, and it was like walking within a living organism. Life was everywhere I looked. At every café with a person's sip of coffee or bite of a croque monsieur. Within the paintings hung in an art gallery. Beneath my feet as I felt the vibrations of the metro weaving its way to every corner of the city. Sure, all cities have this sort of pulse, but Paris' pulse had a rhythm unlike any other.
With every intake of air, I felt like I was breathing in part of that spirit. As weird as that sounds, walking around for 7 hours, journeying down cobble-stoned alleys, sitting at a few cafés, dodging traffic, exploring tiny, tucked-away parks, all of it was such a rejuvenating experience. Therapeutic even. All while an excellent shuffle of songs blasted in my ears.
Perhaps this rejuvenation came from having no commitments or no attachments to reality. Like I had somehow slipped into a different plane of existence where all that mattered was the music in my ears and the city under my feet. No schoolwork, no bills, no meetings, no worries, no insecurities. Basically a check out from reality. A state of being that I'm definitely not used to, coming from the breakneck pace of life in DC. As I wandered into the famous bookstore, Shakespeare and Company, I looked up to see this written on the wall:
This piece of advice struck a chord with me. Being used to life in DC, with school, internships, money, jobs, future planning...a minute's time spent checking out of reality and just breathing is a complete stranger to me, a stranger that I often inhospitably neglect so I can check another important thing off my to-do list. Those 7 hours of walking, just checking out of reality, were the most refreshing hours I've had in a while. An "Angel In Disguise." I stood there among the stacks of books, taking in that quote, and realized this was Paris' way of telling me not to treat life like one big to-do list. So when my feet touch American soil in a mere six weeks (damn, time flies), I'm going to start taking some time to check out and just BE.
With every intake of air, I felt like I was breathing in part of that spirit. As weird as that sounds, walking around for 7 hours, journeying down cobble-stoned alleys, sitting at a few cafés, dodging traffic, exploring tiny, tucked-away parks, all of it was such a rejuvenating experience. Therapeutic even. All while an excellent shuffle of songs blasted in my ears.
Perhaps this rejuvenation came from having no commitments or no attachments to reality. Like I had somehow slipped into a different plane of existence where all that mattered was the music in my ears and the city under my feet. No schoolwork, no bills, no meetings, no worries, no insecurities. Basically a check out from reality. A state of being that I'm definitely not used to, coming from the breakneck pace of life in DC. As I wandered into the famous bookstore, Shakespeare and Company, I looked up to see this written on the wall:
This piece of advice struck a chord with me. Being used to life in DC, with school, internships, money, jobs, future planning...a minute's time spent checking out of reality and just breathing is a complete stranger to me, a stranger that I often inhospitably neglect so I can check another important thing off my to-do list. Those 7 hours of walking, just checking out of reality, were the most refreshing hours I've had in a while. An "Angel In Disguise." I stood there among the stacks of books, taking in that quote, and realized this was Paris' way of telling me not to treat life like one big to-do list. So when my feet touch American soil in a mere six weeks (damn, time flies), I'm going to start taking some time to check out and just BE.
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