The past 4 months have wrangled me through three entirely separate adventures, all of which illuminated a new side of myself. I'm mesmerized by how much I have grown... not necessarily as an asset to the world, but as an asset to myself. I know my strengths and my struggles, and I feel more ready to tackle whatever life hands me. I am finally accepting the fact that my life novel needs to be published electronically because there will always be additions.
Adventure 1: Paris
They say every romantic has to take a trip to Paris, for it is the city of lights and love. So, I stuck around Coe College for a couple weeks after the academic year ended, then I boarded a flight to form my own opinions on this fawned-after city.
**A necessary Paris preface: I applied for Paris May term as a rebound for a different May Term when I was not accepted. I was rightfully not accepted, considering I wrote among the worst application essay of my entire life. (Literally, I made Lucky Charms references. It was awful.) I wanted to go to on the other May term really, really badly and took it pretty hard when I didn't make it in... both because I wanted to go (duh) and because it unleashed an ominous feeling of "you will never achieve your dreams." Applying to Paris was my way of fighting back that feeling and proving to myself that life is what I make it.**
The days leading up to Paris were stress-cry-central. I didn't know how to exchange my currency. I didn't know how much or how little to pack, or why the heck they were saying my hair dryer wouldn't work. And my wardrobe needed some serious work, considering jean shorts and t-shirts in Paris just weren't going to make the cut.
I didn't sleep a wink on the flight. The French man next to me didn't say a word, but had his night mask and ear plugs neatly arranged in a leather pouch. "Is this how all Parisians are?" I thought. He seemed a bit pretentious, but not rude.
The flight ended and we all gathered to get on the shuttle bus... which never arrived. Two hours later, jet lagged and sweaty, we decided to go the metro route, despite the advice again and again to never go on the Paris metro with backpacks or suitcases. 17 people, 30 bags, 1 metro, 4 French speakers. Bienvenue à Paris...
That evening, I felt congested and sore. Of course, this is when I would get sick. I trudged my way through one chapter of the eight we were supposed to read that evening. Great way to start the semester, I thought, not reading 90% of the required readings. No wonder I didn't get into the other May term.
Being sick with a language barrier and no sense of navigation (small-town-girl-problems) was intimidating, but only for the first few days. The grandeur of what I was learning seemed to make to block out all the struggles.
I can't possibly explain the splendor of each site, but I'll briefly explain three.
The Louvre. Oh my gosh. I was speechless, partly because of how inspiring it was, and partly because I still was super congested. I never saw myself as an art connoisseur, but the Louvre nearly convinced me to become an art history major. I walked through the museum with Savannah (who is an art history major), musing about life and purpose and meaning. My favorite was Cupid and Psyche by Antonio Canova.
Seeing it three-dimensionally made it much more real. Psyche is collapsing from opening a vile from the underworld, and Cupid is there to gently nurture her back to health. It seems so soft, so emotional, and so forgiving. It reminds me that mistakes are inevitable, forgiveness is beautiful, and love is strong.
Then, there was Notre Dame during mass. I visited many cathedrals during the trip, but always just wanted to hear them resonate with sound. The sound freed the thoughts that had fluttered in that cathedral since it was built. It was like the reflections of thousands were bouncing off the walls, wishing for me to catch them. I felt liberated.
The final hoorah took place in the Latin Quarter -- layers and layers of
history wrapped up in intellectual serendipity. There was a new little
shop to buy scarves in or a crepe stand. With the University of Paris
located there (since the 17th century, I might add), it felt like the
Parisian version of a classic college town. The last full day of the trip, I decided to wander off on my own. (Yes! Bravery! Adulthood!) I stopped at Shakespeare and Company, a famous English-but-Parisian bookstore. I leafed through every section, trying to find the perfect book, for nearly two hours. Time suspended when I opened a book from the library section of the shop to find a sealed envelope. "To the one who is looking for..." it read. I wanted to know, but I couldn't open it. It would be wrong. I was not looking for it. I placed it gently back between the pages, hoping the best for whoever found it.
Of course, my friends didn't let me off that easy. We went to dinner in the Latin Quarter that evening at a fancy, three-course-plus restaurant. I ordered escargot, canard, and crème brûlée. It was the best meal of my life. The waiter even explained to me how to get my escargot out of the shells and laughed when I couldn't do it. A little ways in, I told them my Shakespeare and Co. story, and they demanded I go back and open the note. So we finished the meal and sprinted to the shop, opened the book, and cautiously opened the note. It was a poem written in Lithuanian about fate and chance and Paris. And the second time, I really was looking for it.
So here's what I learned about myself. I am three-dimensional, much like Cupid and Psyche, and I am much more beautiful when I am seen in that form. I love art. I have a deep sense of reflection for the past and present. I love the bustle of a city mixed with the reverence of a cathedral. I can overcome language barriers. I live for serendipity. I believe in laughter during fancy meals. I get sick at really inconvenient times. I stink at sleeping on airplanes. I should plan an extra 30 minutes for getting lost.. sometimes intentionally. I am adventurous. I don't always have to be looking for the answers to open the letters because we spend our whole lives looking for instead of looking at.
I learned to stop looking for who I am, and instead to look at who I am. She may be a work in progress, but there is always room for edits.
I am presently untitled.
Adventures 2 and 3 to come when I am not falling asleep on my futon. :)
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