Love... and Goodbye

Hello my friends,
And welcome to the last installment of "Rock in Paris". It's been quite a journey, and I appreciate you all joining me along the way.

As I am being picked up for the airport at 6 am, it appears that I won't be sleeping tonight, and it's just as well since I leave with mixed emotions. A part of me is ready to return Home, to see Henry, and friends and family, and have a greater purpose beyond selecting where I will have my espresso today, and whether I'll take the croissant or pain au chocolat with it. But a part of me desparately wants to hang on to Paris for all that it meant to me, all that it has done for me.

I came to Paris uncertain of what would transpire, yet clear that something would. And it has.

This blog has been about my physical adventure more so than my mental and emotional one, yet beneath the layers of foie gras and creamy pastry that I've so much enjoyed writing about, has been a soulful journey. In addition to all of the wonderful moments I've described, there have also been moments of lonliness, sadness, times I felt anxious, followed by inevitable self-loathing for having these feelings while in Beautiful FRANCE, for chrissake! In those moments, G-d and I had some pretty deep conversations... Perhaps one day, I'll share the depth these conversations, and the spiritual experience I've had spending 28 days esentially alone in the world's most romantic city. For now, I'll give the highlights.



I spent the last two days in the French Riviera laying on the beach. As I've mentioned, it's been a bit chilly in Paris so this was a much needed reprieve. I spent my time in Nice, aka, "Miami". Really, there is no difference except that in Nice, more people speak English. After my first day in the sun, I took a stroll along the Promenade. Winding around the coast, the promenade lines beaches, hangs over cliffs, engulfs the marina, and traverses to nearby towns. Along my stroll, I came across the base of the Chateau which rests high atop a hill. A staircase boasting what must be a thousand stone steps escalates to the top. Though I wanted ice cream, the mountain called my name, and I reasoned that climbing would allow me 2 scoops - and a sugar cone.

As I climbed, my thighs burned as the winding steps, first tall and steep, then short and long, led me to an uphill dirt path. I almost cried, "uncle," but ice cream beckoned as my reward. When I rounded a corner, birds greeted me in song. They chirped various tones in harmony, welcoming tired bodies with sweet serenade. They flew high above plush green carpets, and through tall leafy trees that towered over tiny pink and red flowers sprinkled throughout. Paths slithering through the expansive parks housed painted green benches where couples napped, or people read. In one corner, a jungle gym amused children, and in the other, a snack bar for all. Indeed, my ice cream awaited me. I savored my Pistachio as I wondered this green haven, getting lost in the delightfully hidden paths. Each seemed to lead to a different lookout point where you can catch a glimpse of the marina, or the whole of the stone beach, or just the park winding below.

I began my last day in Paris also with a Park. I jogged to my favorite spot in the city, which you may remember from my first blog entry is a rare stretch along the Seine that is surrounded by luscious rose gardens. As the first day began there, so should the last. It was a beautiful day here, warm and blue. After nestling my toes in the grass one last time, I wandered in and out of shops, to my favorite cheap spot for steak/frites, and after packing, for a cruise along the Seine. It seemed the only fitting ending to this journey - the only way to take in this entire city in one gorgeous swoop.

As the boat cruised, I noticed the bridge where I ate my Pita Grec, the underhang where I wrote in escape of the rain. I took in each site, breathing the memory into my heart, willing it into my bloodstream so that its effect pumps through me forever.

Yes, this city has become a part of me. But how could it not? Paris' beauty captures the heart. Its mystique intrigues; its allure seeps under the skin like a fever. Paris plays with all 5 senses. It teases you. The way the Eiffel Tower seems to suddenly pop its head out of nowhere as you walk the city... Paris flirts with you, making you beg for more. It is a long-distance love: the one that got away, but whose sweet kisses remain in your mind forever. This is why we love Paris. For I am convinced that at the end of the day, we each just want to be loved.

Several of you have asked me if I've gotten lonely while here, and the truth is - yes. No matter how independent someone is, or how much someone enjoys his or her own company, the fact is that at the end of the day, as the song says, people need people. Through communication, we process; through relationships, we grow. After 2 weeks here, I was just getting to the point where I needed people. I had needed the first 10 days or so just to decompress; to center and stablize and get down to the business of healing me. But then I was ready to interact; I needed to communicate. If I were staying longer and actually living here, it would have been time to go out and make some friends - join a french class, an ex-pat knitting club perhaps, find the young Jewish organization. So, the timing of my cousins' and Holly's visit was perfect. However, when they left, they took Communication away with them.

And so, I set about the last week in Paris with the intention to make friends. It was really the one thing I hadn't done in this living-here-experiment, and it was something I really, really wanted to do. Last Tuesday, I finally met frenchmen I liked talking to!!! But... they were 85. All the same, for several hours on my favorite street, Rue Montorgeuil, I enjoyed a lovely conversation with George, Maurizio, and Louis. George is the spitting image of my grandfather 10 years ago, and oddly, Maurizio bears a striking resemblance to my grandmother. We discussed world travel, George Bush, the war in Iraq, and industries we're trying to attract to Cleveland. Louis even offered to join me in the Riviera, and though it was the best offer I've received this month, I declined.

I then went to the open market across the street from my apartment where I saw Benjamin who works twice a week at the Italian stand. Benjamin and I always smile at each other, but his english is not that great.
That day, when I approached, Benjamin said, "I jog."

Huh??!!?? "You jog?" I ask.

"Yes, I jog." He confirms.

We go back and forth like this until we figure out that he means, "I smile." SMILE... aha! How nice! He seems me and smiles. So I get an idea (a la "Eat.Pray.Love.") Benjamin seems to need a bit of polish to his English and I sure could use help with French. "How about if we meet for coffee and speak English and French," I propose. The next day, we have an entire 2 hour conversation in which I only speak French and he only speaks English. It's fabulous and we meet up briefly again as well.

That night, I then had my first French set-up... well, kind of. Jennifer Rossley was kind enough to set me up on a friend-date with her fabulous American friend Michael, who's been living in Paris for 7 years. He picks a trendy asian-fusion spot where we munch on pepper-crusted tuna sashimi, sweet quail with candied bananas, and a bottle of Red. The conversation flows with the wine, and we end up at a second wine bar after dinner. He fills me in on French idiosyncrasies, while I catch him up to speed on Jennifer's love life. Then we each share our own foiled love tales. It even turns out that he strangely enough had dinner with my boss a month ago (small world), so he knows all about Cleveland+! It feels like being with friends at home, and for this, I am beyond grateful.

I then shared my evening in the Riviera with a frenchman and his neice, a wonderful plane ride from Nice to Paris with an Australian girl who's just graduated with her PR degree and is traveling for the next 2 years, and tonight, I was blessed with an englishman at the bar who kept me up until 2 am, proclaiming his never-ending love for all things Mid-West, spouting more facts about the Mid-West than I'll ever care to know. When he blurts out a full-on comedy routine about the "Show-me State" of Missouri, I decide that I've just made a friend for life. We exchange emails. In fact, I exchange emails with all of them. Even Maurizio and George. And this brings my time here to life. The thing is, I easily could have come and gone here, without anyone noticing my existence. But making our mark is important. It makes our lives rich - and meaningful. Mattering to people matters. As I said, when it comes down to it, Love is all we really want and need in life.

This is one thing I love about Parisians: they express their love openly. They aren't afraid or embarrassed to show the world that they love someone. Quite the opposite - they're proud of it! And why shouldn't they be? If a loved one died tomorrow, would we not regret that we didn't give that one last kiss? Thus I love the double-kiss here. Kiss. Kiss. Cheek. Cheek. And I adore the same-side seating. Walk by any cafe, couples and friends are not face-to-face across a long table - they snuggle. They get intimate. Michael shared with me this difference too, that unlike America, here, it's "okay" for male friends to show affection toward one another. And why shouldn't they? Love matters. Mattering to someone matters. For this reason, I'm grateful that I did meet a few people here who mattered to me, and to whom I hope I mattered - even if for just a moment. When the laundromat attendant recognized me on the street with a touch of my hand, I felt somehow validated. I hold some space in her being - even if miniscule.

So as I write this final blog entry, an hour before being picked up for the airport, I sit with mixed emotion. I am looking forward to getting back to a place where there are people I love who need me, and I need them. But I am sad too. There were so many wonderful moments - many of which I wrote about, many of which I didn't for these blogs were getting long as they were! Moments like just happening upon The Festival of Bread outside of the Notre Dame one day... The FESTIVAL of BREAD!!!! Hot free baguette barrelling out of ovens - could I be luckier? Or how I randomly found the movie theater on a cold rainy day and had the distinct pleasure of seeing the Shrek preview - in French! Or, my embarrassing attempt to do laundry with French machines? Or how as I took my final walk along the Seine, I came upon a chalked heart with "Je t'aime" (I love you) in script inside. My heart swelled with this sweet gesture. Then I noticed another heart about 20 feet up. "Que Dire?" (What do you say?) My heart beat a little faster. 20 feet up, another - this time with arrows pointing to the Louvre. I looked back and saw a string of blue chalked heart on the bridge, the national assembly, as far as my eye could see. I decided to follow them to trace their beginnings. "I love you a little," said one, "I love you a lot," said the next. "How long will I love you?" "1 year" "2 years" "10 years"... Enchanted, I am now practically racing from heart to heart to read the prior, thinking, "I'll marry you!" when I nearly bump into a woman racing down the sidewalk with blue chalk in her hand and the words, "Je t'aime!" embossed all over her shirt. THIS is how she is choosing to tell the man in her life that she loves him. Could I have gotten any luckier than to witness this?

These moments of happenstance sprinkled magic along the journey. And, these are the moments that changed me. These moments only occurred because I went with the flow and allowed life to unfold. I don't know about you, but I often try to control my every moment at home. My brain spins backwards with worry about the past, then forward with anxiety about the future. I often can't make decisions because my brain is so clouded with crap! But here, I could just be. Sure, my mind tried at times to race backward or forward, but for the most part, it quieted. It let me be. And in that space, beautiful experiences arose. I became enchanted with the surprise of what was to unfold next. Love for life emerged. Joie de vivre.

I write to you in my final hour in Paris with the prayer that I maintain this peace when I get home tomorrow, when I get back into my routine. There will be work to do, and bills to pay, but I pray that my mind remain open. I hope to remain free and in the flow, because this Joie de Vivre thing that the French do, it's good... I'm happy "here".

I will leave you with one not-so-deep, but meaningful moment here for me. I FINALLY got my Starbucks order correct here in FRENCH!!! For those of you who have had Starbucks with me, you know that my order is difficult enough in English. Triple grande non-fat, one sweet-and-low, no foam latte. Try saying that 3 times... or just once in French. It took 4 weeks, but I finally got it - and a very approving look from my familiar barista. So here it is: Une Grande latte ecrime, avec une autre dose d'espresso, sans mousse.

And with that, the sun has risen and I must get my things ready for the shuttle to the airport... that comes in less than 1 hour. Thanks again for reading my blog. You have no idea what it has meant to me to write it, for you to read it, and to receive your encouragement along the way. It has been Love to me, in so many ways.

For the last time,
A bientot,
Carin