Wherever you go...........there you are

Sayings become sayings because there is usually truth to them.  So it is with my current blog post title.

Yes, I'm in Paris for a year.  Yes, this is a dream come true.  One I've been planning for a very long time.  But just because my address now says Paris France instead of Cornwall Ontario doesn't magically make my life different.  I'm still me.  I still have the same anxieties, worries and issues I had before January 3.  I also still have the same strengths, courage and raw sense of humour I had then.  It's just that all those characteristics, and many more that make up who I am, have been transplanted to my new home.  I still have to live with them.  What I hope is that I can learn to let go of some of the stuff that makes me anxious and makes me worry and focus more on why I am so damn happy when I am here.  Maybe I can figure out what makes me a different person when I'm here and learn to take that home with me.  Because home is still home.  It's where my loves are ~ my kids and my grandkids.  Those who love me unconditionally.

So that is something I will reflect on.  I realize that my problems don't magically disappear just because I'm in Paris.  But I also know that for whatever reason, those problems seem to recede a bit when I'm here.  So I'm going to try to figure out why.

In the meantime, I'm having the time of my life.  It's been a non stop whirlwind of good friends, good food and wine, wonderful art, discovering new neighbourhoods and revisiting old favourites.  I even actually left Paris for 4 days and spent time in the Basque Country with a treasured friend.  Life is good, my friends.  Very, very good.  I continue to fall deeper in love with this magnificent city that wraps her arms around me every time I visit.  I think my mind is finally coming to terms with the fact that I'm here for longer this time.  That I don't have to keep rushing from place to place, from friend to friend, trying to fit it all into 2 weeks or even 5 weeks.  Lately, I've taken to spending some nights in my cozy little Parisian apartment, making a simple dinner, having a glass of wine, listening to music, reading or watching French Netflix.  It's all part of being here for a year.  I am finding my groove, settling in, getting more familiar with my 'hood, my buses, my metro stations, my supermarkets and wine shops and boulangerie and fromagerie and even my local Picard!

I wouldn't have been able to even contemplate a year away from home if I didn't have the most amazing group of friends, both here in Paris and around the world, who encouraged me to take this leap of faith and dare to live my dream.  I am never lonely in Paris.  I have truly good people in my life, who are always there for me.  When I want to eat, drink and laugh.  And also when the sadness or feelings of doubt come.  There is always a hug ready for me, a shoulder to lean on, a cheek to kiss, arms to hold me. Some of those people are in Paris.  Some are elsewhere but always close to my heart.  I am never truly alone.  Except if I want to be.  And sometimes I do :). I like my company. I like to wander the streets for hours by myself.  I love to visit the museums and decide how long to look at a work of art. One minute, five, twenty ~ it's lovely to have the luxury of deciding that on the fly without having to explain to anyone.

So the first month has come and gone.  It's been mostly good but with a little sadness.  And that's ok.  That's life.  It's part of my moving on, part of my growing, part of figuring out who I am and who I want to be.  How lucky am I to be able to experience all of it, good and bad, exciting and mundane, beauty and dog poop, blue skies and rain, and sleet and even a bit of snow.  Wherever you go, there you are...........so here I am and I'm just Letting It Be :)

Irving Penn exhibit at Le Grand Palais

The magnificent Pont Alexndre III

The rising waters of the Seine

My lovely friend Roniece, beautiful inside and out.  She just celebrated 5 years in Paris and she inspires me to follow my dreams.

St Jean de Luz

Biarritz

Tapas in San Sebastian

Sun peeking out in San Sebastian

driving through the Pyrenees

Yes, it was as good as it looks!

Plane tree in Cambo Les Bains

riding the TGV at 315 kilometres an  hour

snow on the rooftops of Paris

The Louis Vuitton Foundation museum, designed by Frank Gehry

A Klint at the MoMA Exhibit 

Les Bouquinistes

Notre Dame

The mythical blue sky of Paris at dusk

good times with great friends

Always there, even in the fog.

It is all about me........

I've been in Paris for a full two weeks now.  Like anything that you look forward to for a very long time, the reality doesn't always meet the expectations.  For me right now, that has to do more with people than actually being in Paris.  I've visited Paris so many times, I feel completely at home every time I'm here.  This time is no exception.  I know the metro and bus system very well.   I know my way around many different arrondissements and I can usually find where I'm going with no problem.

I'm still in awe that I made this dream a reality.  I'm still pinching myself that I have the luxury of a whole year to explore and indulge and discover.  So this post isn't about being disappointed with Paris. On the contrary ~ I'm more in love with this city than ever and I am sure I've made the right decision for myself.

No, this post is about feelings.  Feelings about people.  People I love dearly.  People who I know love me.  It's about how those feelings affect me and thus are affecting my time here so far.

It's really hard when you know someone very close to you doesn't approve of what you are doing.  When they decide to withhold not only their support, but also their love.  I wish I was strong enough to not let it bother me.  I know I'm doing what I have to do, what my heart and soul are telling me to.  I also have the support of so many people in my life, both at home and here in my adopted city.  These people have sustained me right from the start and have believed in me and have encouraged me to fulfill my dream.  But it's often the approval you don't get that matters the most.  That nags at you and lessens your excitement and happiness.  I wish this wasn't true.  I'm trying to fight it as much as I can.  The days are usually good.  I'm busy ~  I have friends to meet, walks to take, phone plans to set up, etc.  I have enough things to keep my mind occupied and they all bring me joy.  But sometimes when I go to bed at night, the doubts and the hurt are there, just lurking.  I wonder if I've damaged a relationship that means the world to me for the sake of making myself happy.  I have to make myself remember that I have the right to live my life.  I've lived it for other people for a very long time.  It's my turn now.  I shouldn't feel guilty about that.  And I don't, really.   But.  But.  I hate that what has made me so happy is hurting someone close to me.  I wish I knew how to make it better.  But I don't, short of coming home.  And I'm not going to do that.  I've worked too long and too hard to get this far.  I'm not turning back now.  I can't.  So I hope that one of two things will happen.  Either I figure out how to not let it bother me or the person involved realizes that my time in Paris doesn't lessen my love for that person or anyone else involved.  One thing has nothing to do with the other.

There's also the hurt when someone you thought cared for you doesn't quite get you.  I have a close friend who told me recently that my blog was "all about you".  Well yes, it is.  It is all about me.  I've never pretended otherwise.  This blog is like my personal journal, but I'm also sharing it with friends and family.   But the blog is intensely personal.  It's not going to be a travelogue on Paris and where I went today and what I ate.  There will be some of that. Because I have an intense need to share that crap ;).  But the blog is about my journey.  From a totally broken person four years ago who didn't think she would ever be able to not be in intense pain to someone who is daring to dream, daring to fly, daring to make "it" happen, whatever "it" happens to be.  I hope that sharing who I am, how I got here and what happens next will maybe help someone one day who doesn't think they can survive.  Who doesn't believe they can thrive after their world gets torn apart.  You can.  I'm proof.  So yes, this blog is all about me.  But it's also about this city that has healed me, that has made me believe I could be another person, a happier, more content version of myself.  So there will be lots of posts about what I'm doing and what I'm eating and what I'm seeing.   But there will also be posts about what I'm feeling. About who I am.  Who I was.  Why I like the person I am in Paris.

So Paris two weeks in is very good.  But it's also a little sad.  And I guess that is real life.  It's never all good or all bad.  It's a mixture and it's confusing and it's great and it's not.  But it's life.  It is what it is :)

I hope I'm not coming off as whiny or bitchy.  I'm so grateful to be here and I never take it for granted. I'm also extremely lucky to have almost everyone in my life, both here in Paris and back home, give me unconditional love and support.  This is what sustains me and gives me the courage to be here.  By myself.  In the city I love.  For a year.

I promise my next post will be about Paris.  And what I'm doing. In the meantime, here are some photos to show I'm not just sitting at home brooding.  I am having the time of my life.

Paris stirs my soul...........

Hard to believe it's been a week since I landed in Paris on January 3rd.  My first days were a whirlwind of activity ~ settling into my apartment, shopping for grocery basics, catching up with friends, touring my new 'hood and just getting my bearings.

It hasn't really sunk in that I'm here for a year.  I'm still on vacation mode.  Since I've been to Paris so many times, for weeks at a time, it still feels like the same kind of routine.  Drinking and eating with friends. Hitting the G20 supermarket a few doors up from my place for food and wine.  Meeting Roniece at LPC. Charging up my Navigo for the month and figuring out which buses go where and what metro stops get me closest to where I want to be.

But sometimes,  out of the blue, it will hit me that I don't have to pack it all in in 15 days this time.  I can stay in my pjs drinking coffee and listening to music until 2pm if I want.  I can go sit in the cafe next door and nurse an espresso for an hour, listening to the soft jazz in the background and not worry I should be doing more than just exactly that.  Roniece and I can have a dinner that becomes a sleepover than becomes a jammy day until 4pm the next day.  I can sit with friends for 6 hours, sipping wine and calling dibs on the cute men that wander by the big windows of LPC. I can do all these things because I have the luxury of time.  For the first time in my life, I am not on someone else's clock. I have no responsibilities except to myself.  To the woman in me who just wants to see what it's like to be herself.  To like herself.  To please herself.

I thought it would be hard for me to let go of taking care of everyone else.  I've done it for so long, it's just who I am.  But amazingly enough, being a lazy bitch seems to be coming easier than I thought.  I'm slowly finding a rhythm of my own.  It's still very early days and I know my days will change and take on some kind of structure, but I am enjoying not having to do anything, not having to be anywhere, going at my own pace.

Yesterday was a day that reminded me why I love Paris so much.  Initially I was to meet a friend for lunch but he had to cancel due to a migraine.  So I decided to attend a lecture on War Brides in WWI and WWII I had read about online.  I made my way to the 3rd arrondissement where the cafe was located a few hours before the lecture was scheduled to start.  I love the haut Marais and its little windy streets full of shops.  I dressed warmly in my Canadian down coat so I could withstand the rainy gloomy temperature.  It's very different to wander around in winter.  The streets are not teeming with tourists and you can find a place to sit anywhere you want to.  I took some photos of places I had seen in spring or fall but that looked very different with the bare trees revealing more of what lay behind the leaves usually there.

I was getting a little peckish after about 2 hours of strolling so I went in search of a tiny place I had seen in October when I was in this area with my friends.  I pushed open the wooden door to Le Troisième Cafe and entered a small place with maybe 6 tables and a little bar with about 4 stools.  I ordered the soup and a glass of wine and sat myself down, pushing my huge coat in a corner where it wouldn't hamper the other patrons.  Within minutes of sitting down, I was talking with people on either side of me.  From one, I learned that the cafe is actually a non-profit co-op.  Through their small 5 euro membership fee and their volunteers, they have created a little place where people in the quartier can come for an inexpensive meal or drink, chat with friends, and share in some activities.  Any tips go towards paying it forward for food or drink to someone who can't pay for themselves and they also organize outings where they bring food to the homeless in the area.  I really liked this place and I want to make it a regular place to go, although it's not really that close to me.  I will think about volunteering and joining in some of the activities.  I know that I have an advantage because I can speak French.  One of the promises I made to myself was to try to meet more French people while I'm here.  I love all my expat friends but I also want to see if I can integrate a little more into French culture.

Warmed by my soup and wine and the welcome I was given, I walked quickly to the Cafe de la Marie on rue de Bretagne where the lecture was to take place.  The lecture is a series organized by Adrian Leeds called Apres Midi which takes place the second Wednesday of every month.  It's free (!) and it's a wonderful way to spend an afternoon listening to someone from the community speak about different subjects.  Hilary Kaiser, a historian who has spent over 40 years in Paris, gave a fascinating talk about the trials and tribulations of the women who married American soldiers during WWI and WWII.  She specializes in oral histories and has spent much of her career talking with and preserving the memories of the men and women who lived through the war in France. The upstairs room at the cafe was full and we spent 2 hours learning about the difficulties these women endured and the logistics of getting them to America once the wars ended.  I love history and I hope to be able to indulge that love this year by attending events such as this or auditing History or Art History courses either at museums or universities.

After the lecture, I decided to walk down to the Seine. I was toying with attending a reading by an author at Shakespeare and Company across the river in the 5ieme arrondissement. I wandered slowly down rue des Archives, into the BHV to warm up and then across rue de Rivoli to the beautifully grand building that is the Hotel de Ville of Paris.  As I was getting ready to take some photos, I noticed there was a free exhibit on Che Guevara.  I spent about an hour exploring the influences of this man who become a legend of Cuban history.  I found it interesting and well worth the time to visit.

I then crossed over to Ile La Cite and was happy to see that the Christmas tree in front of Notre Dame was still up.  The church bells began to peal just as I approached and I spent a joyful moment drinking up the beauty that is Paris.

I arrived for the reading at Shakespeare and Company about 40 minutes before the start.  The small space was already beginning to fill up and most of the seats were reserved for students and faculty of New York University where the author Nathan Englander teaches. I managed to snag a chair and since I was sitting right in front of the Philosophy section, read a little Bertrand Russell while I waited.  I had not heard of this author and had no idea what his book was about.  I decided to come in part because I had been in the Marais in the afternoon and wanted to wander down to the Seine since I was in the area.  Since the bookstore is just across the river from Notre Dame, it was an easy stroll and took me past favourites I wanted to say bonjour to.  

Nathan Englander captured my attention and imagination from his first words.  He spoke so passionately about the enduring quest for peace in the Middle East.  His anguish over the disappearance of empathy in the US with the current administration.  His belief that if South Africa could overcome apartheid peacefully in our lifetime, that anything is possible.  He spoke about his commitment to writing, to the truth of his characters and their situations, to the need to research properly so as to tell a convincing story.  Most of all, he spoke about the need to be a good human being. He blew me away.  At one point, my eyes were full of tears and I was afraid to blink so I didn't look like some deranged middle aged woman crying at a book reading.  What made me weep was the feeling that I was home.  That it was perfectly normal for people to be sitting and listening to ideas, to an intelligent man speaking to other intelligent people, to discuss what is happening in our world.  

I took the bus home and was back in my cozy apartment having soup and wine within the hour.  I thought about all I had done with my day and just had this sense that I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing. I was exactly where I needed to be.  I know it's  very early in my year.  I know it won't all be perfect moments.  There will be loneliness.  There will be shit that happens.  That's inevitable.  A year here is still a year somewhere.  There will be good and bad.  But yesterday was good.  It was very, very good.  It exemplfied why I left everything I know and came to Paris for a year.  It's the reason I will continue to Let It Be.............. 

new beginnings.............and goodbyes...............

The bags are packed.  The goodbyes have mostly been made. There have been hugs, tears, kisses, love, and promises given and received. My mind is ready to go  ~ I've checked my lists and my luggage over and over again.  I've made sure I have my passport, my euros, the keys to my apartment in Paris, my paperwork, etc, etc, etc.  It's what happens when you are an anal over planner ~ the what ifs and maybes take over your head and taunt you with everything that can go wrong,  that last minute item you forgot to pack, the coffee pot you forgot to turn off.

So my mind is ready to go.  But my heart.......my heart is sad.  Yes I'm excited beyond belief.  I've been planning this move for two years and dreaming about it for much longer.  But the process of saying goodbye to people you love is heart wrenching.  Saturday night, I cuddled Abby as she slept peacefully in my arms.  I snuggled with Charlie on the couch.  Seb and I watched an old episode of The Office and I told him how proud I was of the man he is becoming and how much I would miss him.  14 year olds are not much into hugging and kissing their grandmas but I snuck some in anyways.

The thought of not seeing these three children who are part of every fibre of my being for almost a year tears my heart.  I know I will talk to them on Skype and FaceTime and we will text on Facebook and WhatsApp.  But I won't be able to feel Abby softly breathing as she gently slumbers in my arms. I won't be able to lay down with Charlie and whisper with him as he drifts off to sleep.  I won't be able to hear Seb's sarcastic witty comments and see the same half smile he has made since he was a baby whenever he is happy or excited.  I know I will be missing moments, birthdays, vacations and more.  That is the price I pay for forging ahead with my dream.  It's ok to feel like this and still go.  It's ok to love my kids and my grandkids with my every breath, but also love myself enough to go see what is out there and live my life.  It's ok, but I can't say it's not hard.  So today I am allowing that sadness to mix with the pure joy and excitement that awaits me on January 3rd.  Life is like that.  It's possible to feel sadness and happiness at the same time. And to open yourself to both those feelings.  It is what it is.

I've spent the last few weeks having drinks and meals with friends.  It astounds me how much love and support and kindness has been shown to me.  It touches me tremendously to know that my friends are really happy for me, that they are excited that I am embarking on this adventure.  They have told me that I'm brave and courageous and strong.  Maybe I am.  But I couldn't have gotten to this point without all the people in my life.  Those who listened to me cry and rant over and over again.  Those who held me in their arms and told me I could remake my life.  Those that believed  there was a better life for me out there and encouraged me to keep moving forward. You all shared in the making of this dream.  I hold you all in my heart and I am bringing you all to Paris with me.

I'm spending the last few days before I leave with my family in Montreal.  I'm basking in their embrace, drinking in the moments together, laughing and reminiscing.  We are making plans for some of them to come visit me in Paris and I am excited to show them the city I love and see it through their eyes.  My family has been there for me relentlessly in the last 4 years and they are there for me now.  I know they will miss me as I will miss them, but they are still letting me go because they know what this year means to me.  That is true, selfless love and that is what I have always had from my sister and brothers, their spouses and my mom.  Family is everything and we have shown this to each other over a lifetime of joys, sorrows, laughter, pain, illnesses, and celebrations.

And then there are the two people I've given life to.  My daughter Danielle and my son Derek.  They are two very different people but they are both strong, courageous, compassionate, intelligent, kind, witty, generous and sweet.  They have both overcome tremendous challenges and come out stronger on the other side.  I'm so proud of the people they have become and of their strengths as parents who are raising their own children.  They are part of my soul and their unconditional love and support have sustained me and helped ensured I am able to take this voyage into the great unknown.  They are the best thing I've ever done in my life.   They are a part of me and I know I am a part of them.

Tomorrow is a new beginning. 2018 will be a year of new possibilities and discoveries, mostly of who I really am and what I really want.  I'm just going to let it be and see what happens..........

I'm going to Paris ~ dot, dot, dot

As my big day looms closer and closer (16 more sleeps!!!), I seem to be going through so many various and opposing feelings.  Excitement. Anxiety. Sadness. Nervousness. Happiness.  Ambiguity (doesn't last long, but it's there.  Fleetingly 😅) Fear. Pure Joy.  A "can't wait to be there" mixed with "what the fuck was I thinking" stream of consciousness that never stops, that keeps me from sleeping, that permeates every waking moment and every hard fought for dream.

Today was a perfect example.  With only 8 days until Christmas and 16 days until I leave, I was determined to get most of my Christmas gift wrapping and Paris packing done.  Ambitious, I know.  But I'm not a tightly wound, anal planning, anxious "what if" middle aged divorcée for nothing. So I wrapped.  Presents for my grandkids.  My cutest ever Charlie, sweetest ever Sebastian and searingly bravest ever Abby.

I wrapped presents for my kids, my mom, my family, my friends and more.   And as I wrapped and stuck on bows and wound ribbons and stuffed tissue paper and signed little gift cards, I realized that I would be leaving all these people ~  all my family, my friends, those who have sustained me and supported me and encouraged me and loved me for the last 4 years.  For the last lifetime.  I would be leaving them for a year.  I would not be able to drop in and get hugs and kisses and love and everything that has gotten me to a point where I can even contemplate leaving.  And I was sad.  Melancholy. Thoughtful.  But most of all grateful.  Grateful that I have so many people in my life who have gotten me to this point. To the point where I am strong enough to plan this long thought of and long awaited dream.  To make myself go forward and to challenge myself to go beyond my comfort zone, leave my support network and fly by myself to a life I have only dared imagined.  I will miss my family.  They have no idea how much I will miss them.  Some think I'm doing this capriciously. That I am not thinking of what I am leaving behind.  But I think of it every day.  And I know I have to go.  I have to be brave and do this for myself.  Because if I don't, I will regret it every day for the rest of my life.  So I am going but I am bringing you all with me.  In my heart.  In my mind's eye.  In my soul.  I am bringing all the love and courage and determination and support you have given me in the last four years as I've remade my life.  As I've redrawn my future to something I could not have imagined that dark, cruel day in November 2013 when my life changed in a heart breaking instant.  You have all been the catalyst for this life-altering, this life changing, this life defining moment.  I thank you all for helping me get to this point where I can take this giant step forward and do something just for me.  Just because.

So that leads me to the packing.........because after the wrapping, came the packing.  Because I said to myself, this is what I am doing today.  So that's what I did.  Because that's what I do.  I make lists.  I make plans.  I give myself objectives and I meet them.  At work.  At home.  In life.  I just do.  I don't know how to not do that.  I wish I did.  I'd probably sleep a hell of a lot better if I could just not do that sometimes.  But that's just not who I am.  And I probably won't change now.  Anyways, I digress.  The packing............well, because of who I am, I've been building a list in my mind of what I would take.  What I would leave behind.  What I had to bring.  What I wanted to bring.  What I could bring if I had the space. So I've been writing that list in my mind for a few months.  Crossing things out. Putting them back.  Debating with myself............is that extra coat really necessary?  Will I wear that dress?  That scarf?  Those heels?  Today I gathered all those scattered little thoughts and gave them a voice.  I separated items into summer, fall and winter.  Absolutely vital and meh, maybe I just better toss this in since I have the space.  I put some 70s music on my Apple Music and bopped around, folding, rolling and stuffing into every spare inch, crevice and space of my 3 suitcases.  And you know what?  I was happy during that time.  I wasn't worried.  I wasn't scared.  I wasn't guilty. I wasn't anxious.  I just was.  I packed and sang and danced and didn't think about anything else except that I am moving to fucking Paris for a whole year.  Me.  I did this.  All by myself.  Got my visa.  Got my apartment. Got my financial affairs in order. Got my life ahead of me.  It's very rare for me to just be mindlessly happy.  I always have so much going on in my head.  I can't seem to stop the thoughts and worries and love and anxieties from swirling around in there.  But for a few short hours this afternoon, I was able to just pack and think about this huge adventure ahead of me and I was happy.  Content.  Excited.

I chatted with a close friend this afternoon and I was telling him that I can't believe I'm going to Paris for a year in 2 weeks.  And he stopped me.  Told me I needed to reword that sentence just a bit.  Told me that I was just going to Paris ~ dot, dot, dot.  And to just let the rest happen.  No timeline.  No expectations.  No must do's.  No plans.  Just, I'm going to Paris ~ dot, dot, dot...........

So that's what I'm going to try to do.  Just go to Paris ~ dot, dot, dot.....................

In the meantime, I hope this post has given you an idea of what this blog will be.  It will be raw.  It will be emotional.  It will be searingly honest.  Probably too much so.  But that's me.  I don't know any other way to be.  I don't have a filter.  I don't censor myself.  So it's not for everyone.  And that's ok. Because in the end, this blog is really for me.  It's my journal to myself.  It's won't be pretty sometimes. But it will always be real.  I wrote something down a while ago that I want to say now ~ what I write may not be great.  But it will always be true.  

So you've been warned.  Come along for the ride, but it might not always be fun.  But there will be pretty Paris pictures lol.  And on that note, in order to keep the 3 people that may still be reading this and thinking, wait, I thought this was going to be about Paris, here's some photos to keep you hanging on..........

This summer, on a sunny, warm day while strolling by myself in our capital city of Ottawa, I had one of those perfect moments of clarity, where I just knew, for whatever reason, that everything I've been through in my life has been leading me to this time.  I just knew I was on the right track and that I had to go on this journey,  this discovery of who I was and what might be possible for me.  I just had to Let It Be..........