Back in September of 2001, ten days after the airplanes struck various locations in the United States, I bravely jumped on a plane and traveled to Paris, France at four months pregnant.
The funny story started as I was trying to oblige my older
partner with the blessing of children. I
was already stuck in the quicksand of the relationship before him and knew that
nothing I did, no one I would be with, would much matter. I played along the whole time. My friends, my parents, everyone around me
liked him… but if I am 100% honest with myself, he was never my jam.
When my doctor relayed that he was unsure as to why I was
unable to have children, after countless invasive tests… All the money we had
saved for daycare and nursery furniture and whatever else we may encounter… was
used to purchase a giant many weeks long expedition to
Europe. Just before jumping on that
plane, I found out that I was, indeed, pregnant…. Wild.
It was a long flight… first to Montreal… then to Paris. I slept a bunch during the darkness of the
flight, only to awaken as the plane neared the big city in the beautiful morning
light, with the Eiffel tower and the stunning geometric layout of the city smiling
at me. My heart was so excited. Never did I believe I was going to experience
such a thing…. The girl from the small town…
As we deboarded and entered the space age looking concourse
that is Charles de Gaulle, caught a cab to our quaint little hotel in Champs-
Elysees, checked in and set our bags down.
I had noticed an outdoor market on the way in. The man I was traveling with, apparently, did
not get enough sleep on the airplane and wanted to crash at the hotel… but I
was ready to adventure.
The bag that contained most of my things did not make the
flight with us. So I needed to find a
few things to make my trip a bit easier.
I decided to catch the little market and hit up the pharmacy on the
corner. I remember walking through the
market with sheer wonder and awe. I
picked up some dried fruits and a bit of cheese. I spied a chocolatier! I still have the bag
the chocolates came in, to this very day.
And then when I turned the corner… there it was… the Arc de Triomphe and
the chaos of cars spinning around it. I
did what anyone would do… walked towards it.
I was not quite sure (yet) how to get to it. I sat on a bench and watched the madness for
a minute. I was so amazed that I was
experiencing something I had only dreamed of since I was young. (I mean, come on… 4 years of French Classes
for some twerp living in Po-dunk Colorado???)
I still have the picture I took sitting right here on my desk and I look
at it frequently to remind me that nothing is impossible… that something
amazing is right around the corner if you are willing to get out there and
experience it.
I will not lie to you.
I’ve had such a rough week. I’ve
had many conversations with that little girl that lives inside. She has been sad and hurt and reminding me
that in Psalms 116:11, it clearly states that, “All men are liars.” For a few days, that little girl wanted to
collect evidence that her oldest fear was true…that people deceive, that love
is unsafe, that opening your heart is foolish.
But I’ve been trying something different.
Every time I catch myself building a case against someone, I
interrupt the story and say out loud, “Thank you for trusting me to love these
men.”
It sounds strange, but it changes the question. Instead of
asking, “Why did this happen to me?” I ask, “What does it say about me that I
was capable of loving deeply?”
And almost immediately another thought follows: “I’m ready
to receive love like mine, too.”
That doesn’t erase disappointment. It doesn’t make painful
things painless. But it reminds me that a hard week is not a verdict on my
worth.
What originally hurt that little girl? The one who believes that she must be
different, act different, say something different, say nothing and do nothing
at all? Why does she not have faith in
herself?
About two weeks ago, when I knew the end was nigh, I made a game
plan. I made myself a six-month promise: to become curious about what lights me
up.
So, I’m showing up to gallery openings and live music. I’m
taking a pottery class. I joined a photography group. I’m planning a solo trip
to Santa Fe and Taos. I’m leaning into the mystical, the creative, the strange,
and the beautiful. And somewhere along the way, I’m gathering the people who
make me feel most alive.
The goal isn’t self-improvement. It’s self-remembrance.
I promised my children I would take them to a beach this
summer. I tried to find my most
inexpensive options (Teacher salary here…) and found trips to North Carolina
were fairly affordable. I also had a
friend in New Jersey that said, “Please come this way…”
But every time I purchase a Powerball ticket, I always
dream that my first trip will be to Hawaii… my kids even get in on the scheming…
“Mom, I need a new swimsuit to go to Hawaii…” they say to me, walking out of any convenience store with ticket in hand.
Out of curiosity, I investigated what it would take to get
me and the littles to Hawaii… and to my surprise, it was less than $1,000
more.
Guess where we are going for family vacation?!
It was a moment when I allowed that little girl to get something
that she wanted.
She’s tired of being judged.
She’s tired of being overlooked or taken advantage of. She is sad about losing “friends.” She is tired of not taking chances.
My whole life I have done things the way that I thought I
had to. There were only a few moments where I spread my wings and done things
that I wanted to do… Like standing in amazement at the Arc, alone… or the
thrill of punching the gas when the green light on the tree gives me permission…
or applying for a house where the light that falls in brings my heart so much
joy. Planning the next 6 months of my
life with nothing but being curious about myself makes me smile.
So no, this past week doesn’t get to define me.
A week is not a life. A disappointment is not a destiny. One
person’s inability to meet me where I am does not make me less worthy of being
met.
I’m still the girl who wandered through Paris alone, turned
a corner, and found herself staring at the Arc de Triomphe in complete awe.
I’m still the woman who believes that something
extraordinary might be waiting just around the corner.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m not building a
life around what I’m afraid of losing.
I’m building one around what makes me come alive.
And while it was fun getting to know another human being… I
am so thrilled to center within myself.
To allow myself to absolutely be in love with my own life that any experience
such as this, just adds fun seasoning…
And perhaps that's what love has been trying to teach me all
along.
Build a life that feels so rich, so curious, so deeply your
own that anyone who joins you becomes a welcome companion…
I have always been the destination.
The cake was always mine.
Everyone else…simply the sprinkles.
Love after Love
Derek Walcott
The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet
yourself arriving
at your own door,
in your own mirror
and each will smile
at the other’s welcome,
and say,
sit here.
Eat.
You will love again
the stranger who was your self.
Give wine.
Give bread,
Give back your heart
to itself,
to the stranger who
has loved you
all your life,
whom you ignored
for another,
who knows you by
heart.
Take down the love
letters from the bookshelf
the photographs,
the desperate notes,
peel your own image
from the mirror.
Sit.
Feast on your life.
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