I love how being in a different city automatically breaks your pattern. Everything becomes extra-ordinary and somehow you are more open to adventures and more sensitive to the little things around you. ‘Bad weather’ suddenly means strolling around in rainy Paris by night and shielding in warm cozy little cafés and jam-packed restaurants to drink good cappuccino and red wine. It means doing things you have never done before, like going to the opera.
And then at the opera you realize that a cheap ticket ‘blind spot’ literally means a blind spot: you can not see the stage from your spot. After half an hour you notice the opera is in German because you recognize one word. That in combination with seeing one third of the French translation and every now and then a singer who happens to be at the very right part of the stage for a short amount of time, gives you some clues about what the story must be about. After leaving you still don’t quite understand, but you don’t really care about all of this, because you were leaning over your boyfriend to see things better which was kind of sweet in a way. And you talked with friendly old French ladies who told you the ceiling was painted by Chagall. You walked around the amazing Palais Garnier and felt slightly special by just being there. So none of it really mattered because everything was just good.
Maybe we should start to see our everyday life a bit more like a holiday every now and then. Realize the magic that is in our actions and how we choose to look at things. Enjoy the small moments and accept the negatives in our lives as opportunities to create moments of happiness and warmth. You don’t have to be in Paris to do that.