As I hurried down the metro stairs to catch the train out of Paris, I saw the mother with her empty stroller just in time to slow down as I rounded the corner. Her little boy had almost achieved a great victory as his stubby toddler legs escalated the final step.
I couldn’t help but stop and beam down at him as I tried to understand his world. Each 6-inch step was a 14-er mountain, one block along an avenue with his mother was a half marathon.
He looked up from his intense focus on climbing, and I immediately started clapping and “cheering” for him. The smile that lit up his face was too perfect. My surprise grew as he flung his arms wide, stumbled/ran to me, and wrapped his short arms around my calves, the highest he could reach.
My day was made. No fancy ordeal, no exotic new sight or taste, just a baby. Trusting without hesitation; innocent and perfect.
The wheels started turning. As the Parisian city skyline faded into rolling green hills of Chantilly, I thought of my travels. How was it possible that this 45-second interaction in a grimy subway station could have such a great impact on me? Even more so than the other events of the weekend, which I had truly enjoyed! Picnicking under the Eiffel Tower, acting like a local at the Sunday open-air market, exploring the City of Light in its high-fashion craze and juxtaposing architecture galore.
We can attain fame and popularity, money or a “quality of life” we nestle comfortably in, and create an empire for ourselves. So why are there so many depressed and anxious people, searching for what’s missing in their life?
This post isn’t to give you my opinion on this, although I of course have one. It’s much easier to read an op-ed, say something like “interesting perspective”, and then completely disregard and forget about it 20 seconds later. No, this is much too important an issue for that.
Instead I’m proposing a heart search. What is (who are) the most important thing (people) in your life?
But are you living like it?
stay lovely,
the tall girl