Freedom from Should Have

All the spiritual mumbo-jumbo about happiness and bliss are just fine when everything is going well but what happens if you get on the wrong train or lock yourself out of your apartment on a Sunday? This weekend i got to find out the answer to both of those questions.

A beautiful Italian friend living an hour south of Paris invited me to visit for an Italian afternoon feast. How could i say no? It was easy she said, take the train to Malesherbes or Melun and get off in Corbeil Essonnes. I checked the map online before i went to the station and it seemed quite straight forward. Got to the station, saw a train for Melun y viola i was on it like a bee on honeysuckle. She said to call after about 45 minutes and she would meet me at the train. I didn't have a map of the train route but 40 minutes into the trip i began to get uneasy. At the next stop i ventured out and discovered there are two trains to Melun, one that goes through Corbeil and yes you guessed it, one that doesn't and i was on The Doesn't. At this point i had no choice but to continue to the end of the line another twenty minutes or so.

I called my friend who in excited anticipation went to the station early and i was going to be late, like an hour late. We talked for a few minutes. There was no drama on her part. No drama on my part. I rode to the end of the line, found an official conductor (my friend warned me that there were three trains that headed back to Paris but only one that went to Corbeil. Find that one.) The conductor escorted me to the right platform (and i was grateful for my elementary french).

As i sat in the train headed toward Corbeil, i realized that i was enjoying immensely the extra view time. There was no second thoughts about "i wish i had" or "i should have", just the sheer joy of watching a beautiful French countryside unfold before me. (BTW lunch was delicious!)

Fast forward to Sunday and i am leaving my apartment for groceries and on the way out taking the garbage. Grabbing two full bags of garbage/recycling and two empty bags for new purchases, cramming what i could in my purse, i walked out of my apartment and slammed the door shut with the key in the other side of the lock. Unfortunately my door locks automatically and as the door was clicking shut i realized what i had done. Yikes.

Let's see. Landlord's phone numbers are sitting on my desk, not in my purse or telephone. (Note to self put phone numbers in mobile.) It's Sunday and most shops are closed. Then i have a brilliant idea and remember that my neighbors have my landlord's numbers because of the leak from my apartment into theirs a few weeks ago. (Funny how events intertwine.) Luckily they are home. Unluckily my landlord is 700 kilometres away and won't be back to Paris for a few weeks. She offers to call a locksmith warning me that it will be very expensive, but what choice do i have but to buck up the euros or play homeless for a night and then buck a few less euros. I say send the locksmith. She says he will be there in 30 minutes. Two hours later he shows up, "Sorry Madame. I had trouble with the lock of another client." (But by the size of his belly, i think he probably just had trouble leaving the lunch table.) He spent three minutes trying to thrust a piece of sturdy plastic paper between the door and the jam and declared, "C'est pas possible." (It's not possible.) He then said that i would have to get a new lock put on and that would cost at least 300 euros not to mention way more time locked out. "Please," I pleaded with him in my most flirtatious french "Will you try again?" Looking like he was appeasing a recalcitrant three year old he crammed the plastic back into the door jam and shook the door profusely to show me that he was right when "clink" i heard the sound of the key falling out of the lock and hitting the floor. Luckily there is a gap between the door and the floor and the key slid right out. Y viola i was in my apartment.

The fact that the guy was two hours late, that none of his master locksmith skills were used, did not stop him from charging me 100 euros for the inconvenience of a Sunday call. Unfortunately my school girl french was not up to the task of arguing and i doled over the money with nary a thought except relief to back into my nest.

The rest of the afternoon was spent blissfully watching the French Open (how can you not be blissful while being treated to the eye candy of Rafael Nadal?) and making ratatouille.

In reflection what i noticed about both situations was a lack of self-judgment or recrimination. Sure i made some mistakes but as soon as i realized it, I put my little brain to solving the problem (instead to solving me), took the action required and went on enjoying my life including the detours caused by the mistakes. This was brillant. Freedom from should have.

By the way, my landlord felt so badly about me paying the locksmith that she invited me to her "grande maison" on the sea near Bordeaux...and i think i just might take her up on it.