“I never thought I’d have a croissant lady. Now that I do, I’m not quite certain how I’m supposed to go back to regular life. A life sans perfect buttery, soft (yet crisp in the right places), flaky croissants.
You go your whole life not realizing how amazing croissants can be and then you walk up to a street corner bakery, peeking innocently at an array of goods. You stumble through the ordering with terrible French, but this amazing heroine of baked goods laughs and helps you find your footing. Oh, and how cheap they are; a frugal person’s dream.
She wraps it up and sends you on your way. Little does she know, her croissants have touched you forever.”
I wrote these words in May of 2018, and they still resonate with me, as I have yet to encounter better croissants. Traveling truly is incredible because there are some experiences that wind up meaning so much to you, that you never could have fathomed into existence. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine myself roaming the streets of Paris, in absolute bliss, scarfing down the most scrumptious croissants made by a Black woman who, for all I know, couldn’t speak any English.
Language was such an interesting component of my time in Paris. To look back now, I realize my two weeks there were actually quite lonely. Ironically, I don’t think it is because of any kind of language barrier, as I met plenty of people that could communicate with me (some of which I still stay in touch with actually). My thinking is that I spent far too much of my time there in my own head. While wandering Paris I think it can be easy to be swept away into your own thoughts, especially as you slow down to appreciate the city for the beauty it has to offer. It was also my first time abroad, and my first true solo trip. In many ways, I think it was my first time truly alone with my thoughts, surrounded by a different language and people living their lives. There was definitely a learning curve, and I remember during the first days of my trip being positively mortified to realize that I was, in fact, me. Imagine my anguish, the reality suddenly dawning on me that I had three more weeks to spend with this complete stranger!
Even after pulling back the curtain, and starting to essentially become accustomed to myself, there was the altogether separate struggle of conceptualizing what the hell I was doing with my life. I know now that so much of what I was preoccupied with rested completely out of my control, but I’d be lying if I said those concerns still don’t cross my mind. Our ideas of self, future planning, and thoughts of those around us can be debilitating, and at worst, they can stop us from enjoying the world we have been gifted today. That’s not to say that I feel I wasted away my time in Paris, but I do see now how perspective can shift what we hold as valuable, and ultimately the amount of space we give to certain things in our minds. There’s also some truth to the idea that certain things will simply exist as a constant part of life. This quote from another day of my trip stands out to me:
“I’m living by the seat of my pants (quite literally because the zipper has been broken since I bought them), and I’m really the only person responsible here. It brings a rush of happiness/freedom, but hesitancy and worry definitely loom not too far behind. There’s definitely gonna be some bumps in this road, but bumps are just life’s little, shrunken down roller coasters.”
I want to go back in time and tell that younger me to buckle up, because it is about to get REAL bumpy! However, along with those bumps have come immeasurable, previously inconceivable wins. My thoughts were so small then, and hopefully, jumping forward in time, I’ll look back ten years, and question how I ever thought so small today. There truly are days I wonder how I got here. Was it not only yesterday that I was debating whether to get the almond or chocolate croissant?
I got both.
I hesitate to use the word “mistake” when I think about mindsets and thinking because ideally all thoughts serve some purpose. Today I recognize my mistake in overthinking and worrying about things I can’t even remember today. Making such miscalculations while we are young is to be expected. Furthermore, being thrust into a new environment, it is only natural that we scurry inside to try and make some sense of something, anything. Nonetheless, those thoughts are just as much a part of my failures as they are my successes, and I speak of them now as the teachers that they were and continue to be.
In reality, there are teachers everywhere, though they often don’t go by such titles. In my mind now, I can’t help but think fondly of the kind woman that filled me with so much joy and showed me how the simplest encounters can carry the greatest meaning. As I would step out of my hostel into a new day, she was my first stop, my first interaction of the day. I would marvel in awe at the beauty of her delicious baked creations, and I’d mumble the little French I could use to her amusement. Far away from everyone I knew, she was a sign that everything would be alright, and that I wasn’t making a complete fool of myself.
Whether she knew it or not, she was the closest thing to support I had in a time where it felt like it was simply me and my journal against the world. There is so much peace in knowing that even without spoken language, our eyes (and baked goods) have a way of communicating for us. I still know so little about absolutely everything but I am fairly certain I made two friends in those early summer, Parisian days: my Croissant lady and myself.