I am that type of person. The kind who takes things like moments, dates, anniversaries seriously. I stop, reflect...feel sad about the passage of time and wonder about the coming year. The next thing.
Paris. All I ever wanted was to see Paris. I would dream of learning French and walking through the streets unconcerned and at home, like a native. I would wander in my mind along cobble stones streets and across bridges, listening to the history of a world I've never know, getting lost in the immensity of it all.
I've never been to Paris.
I can't speak French
And yet, in less than a month, I am moving to Roquebrune Cap-Martin, France.
600 miles south of Paris.
A year and half ago I was living in a room off my parents' kitchen. Not even a bedroom but a living room off my parents' kitchen. With all of my possessions in a 5 x 10 foot storage unit, except for my dog and my shoes and my many many clothes. And my TV.
And now I am married and living in Florida, with my dog and some of the shoes and more and more clothes. I am trying to pack three months worth of clothes into 2 suitcases that will weigh less than 50 pounds a piece. Sounds like a math problem that requires paper and a number 2 pencil to figure out.
Life is wild, if you let it be. If you live without fear or at least without letting fear rule you. I was afraid for years. After dreaming of Paris....I forgot how to dream and I boxed myself in with fear as my only companion.
I still feel fear. And regret. I still worry about what could have been, or should have been or what I didn't do. And yet, even with all of that, I am moving to France. I am going to learn French. I am going to write more every day. This is what I promise myself, today, June 18. The 34th anniversary of my beginning. I will reach that goal I dreamt of when I was young and poetic and a wanderer of wooded places. In the years when I would sit on the rocks under the trees in the woods behind where we lived and dream of what could be. I will learn French and not be afraid of new places and new things because that girl, that young dreamer reading poetry out loud to the babbling brook at her feet and the chickadees in the branches over head, because she believes in me. http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&pwst=1&q=roquebrune+cap+martin+france&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.&biw=1276&bih=595&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hq=&hnear=0x12cde999c102ce85:0x23682a842cf14aa0,Roquebrune-Cap-Martin,+France&gl=us&ei=ok79Te6tKYnBtgf58u28Dg&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CCIQ8gEwAA
Paris. All I ever wanted was to see Paris. I would dream of learning French and walking through the streets unconcerned and at home, like a native. I would wander in my mind along cobble stones streets and across bridges, listening to the history of a world I've never know, getting lost in the immensity of it all.
I've never been to Paris.
I can't speak French
And yet, in less than a month, I am moving to Roquebrune Cap-Martin, France.
600 miles south of Paris.
A year and half ago I was living in a room off my parents' kitchen. Not even a bedroom but a living room off my parents' kitchen. With all of my possessions in a 5 x 10 foot storage unit, except for my dog and my shoes and my many many clothes. And my TV.
And now I am married and living in Florida, with my dog and some of the shoes and more and more clothes. I am trying to pack three months worth of clothes into 2 suitcases that will weigh less than 50 pounds a piece. Sounds like a math problem that requires paper and a number 2 pencil to figure out.
Life is wild, if you let it be. If you live without fear or at least without letting fear rule you. I was afraid for years. After dreaming of Paris....I forgot how to dream and I boxed myself in with fear as my only companion.
I still feel fear. And regret. I still worry about what could have been, or should have been or what I didn't do. And yet, even with all of that, I am moving to France. I am going to learn French. I am going to write more every day. This is what I promise myself, today, June 18. The 34th anniversary of my beginning. I will reach that goal I dreamt of when I was young and poetic and a wanderer of wooded places. In the years when I would sit on the rocks under the trees in the woods behind where we lived and dream of what could be. I will learn French and not be afraid of new places and new things because that girl, that young dreamer reading poetry out loud to the babbling brook at her feet and the chickadees in the branches over head, because she believes in me. http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&pwst=1&q=roquebrune+cap+martin+france&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.&biw=1276&bih=595&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hq=&hnear=0x12cde999c102ce85:0x23682a842cf14aa0,Roquebrune-Cap-Martin,+France&gl=us&ei=ok79Te6tKYnBtgf58u28Dg&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CCIQ8gEwAA
