Yesterday.

Paris, France.

It was my first few minutes of solo travel, and I already knew I would be taken care of.

I had just dropped off my two friends at the train station, and walked back to the hotel we stayed at the night before to use the toilet before finding my way to the next place.

The music playing through my earbuds and the bit of wine we all had together at lunch were a perfect mix- it subdued any possible worries of this new chapter, of traveling Europe on my own. Each step felt different now. I carried the past 3 weeks of nonstop change with me, feeling strength in this moment of self-recognition and freedom. Space.

I walked into the hotel and Omar, the front desk attendant we had met when checking in, was working. He loved talking to us because he wanted to improve his English. Now that it was just me, he walked up urgently and insisted I take my backpack off. He took the to-go pasta I was holding and asked if I wanted it refrigerated. Letting him know I was just stopping back in for the bathroom, he persisted on me staying longer.

“You can relax here. Do you want coffee or tea?”

I smiled and said coffee. I couldn't help but start to feel like him taking this weight off me, and insisting I rest, had some symbolism to it. It felt like his words were coming from a place other than just him.

When I came out from the bathroom, he led me to the hotel lounge where they usually serve breakfast. It was dark and dim- closed for the rest of the day. Yet, it’s emptiness and quiet was so comforting. With a whirlwind past few weeks, it was just what I needed. I realized there was no rush to the next destination, really. I had had enough rush.

“See?” He said happily, holding his arms out to show me the lounge. He pointed to the coffee machine and let me know that I could rest here until it was time for my train. Luckily, there wouldn’t be a train for me for a few days.

I thanked him greatly and as he walked away, observed the many electronic buttons on the machine. Cappuccino, expresso, and ahh.. brewed coffee. A rare find in Europe. The brew dripped into my mug and I added the option for hot milk. It’s funny how even the coffee preparations are different here.

As I sat down, I took a breath and enjoyed the silence. I thought of the past few weeks and how in ways it had felt like months. I thought of all the ways it has felt much different than expected, how I thought anytime you followed a dream of yours, things just got easier. When my emotions intensified, and the comfortable ground I usually grip to couldn’t be found, I thought maybe I made the wrong choice to do all of this.

It’s easy to forget that all the threads of events in our lives weave together in their own time, at their own pace.

They often play out in different ways than we imagined they would, and we need to let go of our attachment to how we wish they were. Even though this trip was taking a different course- it didn’t change the sacredness of it one bit. It was a growing experience. That was after all why I wanted to travel, wasn’t it? Throughout all of these weeks, I’ve whispered to myself- patience, patience. You are meant to be experiencing all of this. Even the discomfort. Especially the discomfort.

As I write this, it brings tears to my eyes because I realize I now have the wide open space to process and feel it all. I’ve learned that I am a true introvert. I do well with time alone- this is the way I reflect and find meaning in my life. In stillness, most often in nature, I am able to gather the pieces of the puzzle that is my life and find some clarity in the big picture. I have been this way for as long as I can remember.

When I traveled, my stress followed. There were a series of big events in my personal life that took place prior to me coming here. Still feeling the weight of them, and not having the silence, nature, salt baths, and song singing self-care rituals that I was used to- not having that consistency- was hard on me. I spent most of those first weeks in big international cities, flooded with crowds and noise I wasn’t used to. There was constant external stimulation. It left me feeling like I didn’t have the same ability to get grounded within myself. Half of me felt stressed and absent, despite all the beauty surrounding me.

When I got to France, one of my friends reminded me of something so important- that I don’t need all of that. I don’t need a particular perfect situation or wooded grove, or empty room, or journal in my lap in order to get back to my center. It is preference, but not necessity. I am always connected, even when I forget. The one consistent thing I do have, in all of these different places and environments, is always me. I have me. Intelligent, powerful, protected, beautiful, me. When I take a breath and remember this, I know it is one of the biggest lessons one can learn.

It is important for me to not be someone who only shows the positive.

With social media, we receive images but not the true emotions behind them. We celebrate victories while not always showing what it took to get there. I won’t be another self-help and empowerment column that only magnifies and focuses on how to feel good. The reality is, life can be messy and complicated- and we cannot deny that we all have to live those moments. It is what we take away from these moments that is important.

So now, in this very bright white hotel room that has become my sanctuary, I reflect. I send a prayer of gratitude to every single moment leading up to this one. Even the ones that seemed upsetting. Especially them. All the smelly stations, the miles walked, the delayed flights, the sleepless heatwave nights, the people without homes, the changes of plan, the confusion, anxiety, and doubt. I now see how important they have been. And they bring even more light to all the amazing things I have experienced on this trip so far.

The lunar eclipse from a field in Germany.
The buildings of a medieval city.
The hand-poked tattoo in a park overlooking London.
The prayers in Notre Dame.
The amber glow of the Eiffel Tower.
The lavender fields of Provence, and my inner child that cried tears of joy.
The gelato from heaven itself.
The birthday I brought in with one of my best friends.
The feeling of leaving the county for the first time and following a dream.
And the place I sit now- fuller than ever.

The space I occupy now is bigger than I have ever felt before.

I am a stronger woman than I was a month ago. I am grateful for this journey- as windy as it has been. I remember this as I touch the necklace my Aunt and Uncle gave me before this trip- a silver feather. I have never believed in coincidences. I believe that spirit talks, and we can choose to listen. When I listened, it brought me here. Just like a feather, blowing and dancing with the wind.