Arriving

What struck me as we were taxing to the arrival gate in Paris was the impact of all my past memories of landing in Paris with someone there to meet me. Today no one was there to meet me (not even my luggage--oh well a minor inconvenience...thus far.) I could feel sensation and stories building. And I breathed. Breathed into every cell the sensations that i was experiencing. Not resisting one ounce of emotion. And all sensation passed through me. It was rather like someone had tickled me with a giant ostrich feather from the inside out. Sort of delightful. After making my luggage claim it seemed quite symbolic to walk out of the airport and into my new life with only my purse and a few carry-on comforts.

I arrived at the apartment (small), furnished (what no coffee pot), and blessed connected internet. The landlady, her husband and her son (internet liaison) were there go over everything. The husband in a stroke of caring genius made me lock and unlock the front door several times (finicky nineteenth century locks in an eighteenth century building.) Then off to satisfy the growling emptiness in my stomach and begin to stock the non-existent pantry.

After eating and buying a few groceries I was walking around my neighborhood thinking about where to eat dinner later on. It seemed so onerous to have to decide where to eat by myself. I really didn't feel like eating out and just wanted to cook some comfort food at home. And in that moment I saw how I had these very subtle expectations of what my Paris experience should look like. With that realization came all of these other expectations about how quickly i should acclimate, how many friends i should make, how comfortable i should be. What if, just what if I am not supposed to be comfortable or know all the right people and places? What if I was supposed to be all alone with only me for company? An incredible relief poured over me. Where i was, was okay. Simple i know but a profound.