I only spent two days and two nights in Paris, but as the midpoint in my journey, geographically and schedule-wise, there is so much to tell.
The next morning, after I’d been rescued and fed by Sabrina and her family, I went to the Eiffel Tower. Because what else do you do in Paris? I sat on the Champ du Mars, in a secluded patch of grass, with a cheap espresso and a crepe and my journal.
And as I sat there, I finally realized how far I was from everything I’d left behind me. I mentioned at the beginning of this project that this was as much an emotional journey as it was geographical. I have to admit to you, this was a healing journey for me. And this point, sitting on the grass in the sunshine, watching the clouds pass through and behind the Eiffel Tower, this is where things finally started feeling whole for me. This is when I saw a world map in my head with little yellow markers on where I’d started in Ohio and where I was sitting, and I realized, “Oh my god. I’m in Paris.” And I really felt the distance, and I really felt how much I’d grown, and I really felt rooted in something for the first time in a very very long time. I felt rooted in myself. And I was completely stunned.
I also realized that I’d been traveling for three weeks. It felt like I had only just started, and it felt like I’d been traveling like this my whole life. That there was no other existence for me. And maybe there’s not. Probably there is, but who knows what the future holds for any of us.
So sitting there in the green green grass, watching people take pictures of eachother pretending to touch the top or hold up the sides, I realized I was solidly happy and content. And that was a good thing to realize.