I’m currently sitting in a small cafe on the corner of a side street in Paris. I’m drinking some chocolat chaud and eating a tart. I just finished a fascinating conversation with some friends about the Parisian art scene of the 1920s and am about to pick up the book of John Keats poems that I’ve been reading. You should come join me, it’s a beautiful scene. You only have to find a way in to my daydreams.
In reality I’m in my home in a small town in Idaho. A far cry from the beautiful streets of Paris.I know, I know, everyone talks about being in Paris. But I really have been there. I really have sat in a cafe drinking hot chocolate. I really do talk with friends about the 1920s Parisian art/literature scene and read poetry by Keats. I actually enjoy all these things. And sometimes when I’m home alone I start to day dream about combining all these things in to one happy moment. I dream about being back in Paris (or London) as an adult with more knowledge and different interests then when I was 17 and didn’t understand how lucky I was.
I have this day dream often, and usually I come out of it feeling sad and depressed. What in the world am I doing in Idaho when I could be in Paris? Why am I reading about Julia Child’s experience eating and living there when I could go live it myself? Why don’t I just pack my bags and move? Then I get a text from my husband. A simple ‘I love you!’ Then I remember why I live here, in the Siberia of America (Southeastern Idaho gets cold). I love my husband. I love living close enough to both our families that we can visit them often and join in on important celebrations. I’m grateful he has a good job and we live in a 4 bedroom house not in a tiny studio apartment. There may not be enough museums and theatres so close I could see something new every night, but I have kind neighbors. We have friends who come to BBQs and an old moody cat who likes to snuggle with me while I read.
No, this may not be Paris, but it is home. A beautiful place I share with the man I love. A place where we’ll someday welcome children. The place that I truly belong. Someday I’ll visit Paris again and I will live out this daydream. Then I will come home and dream of the next place I should go .