Parie holds the key to your heart, mind and apparently a broken foot.
After getting back a few weeks ago from a mini break to Paris with my best friend I can finally reflect on the crazy journey that has been the past couple months, turning twenty-four, getting a new job and breaking my foot in the same twenty-four hours. In my previous blog posts I've suggested I live my life like a movie but my February 2018..... is oscar worthy. There have been so many emotions even Meryl Streep couldn't keep up, though she would still be nominated.
When I turned twenty-four on the second of February, I had incredible people around me trying to make it a great day but I couldn't help but feel stuck. I was in a job that, although it was a great job, I had lost my passion and couldn't get the idea out of my head that this wasn't what I was supposed to be doing. Over the past few years I have battled my own anxieties and stress within a demanding role and have seen friends and family go through the same battles. With the growth of Mind charity and the 'mindfulness' trend we are starting to see (personally I see this as a backlash to a digital world gone mad- see Charlie Brookers 'Black Mirror' for numerous horrifying examples of this) people are talking so much more about mental health (which is great) but I realised that within a corporate world this is not always the case and that goes for the various settings my family and friends have also found themselves in and hearing their stories. I knew I wanted to work within a public health setting and set out to find a role that would enable me to transition to that sector with the aim that I will one day be able to use those skills to advocate better well being within the workplace. The search took around four months but I finally had the jump up and down exhilaration at the possibility of this new step when I came across a role advertised. I applied for the role and before the deadline date they had got back to me interested. The despair I had felt for months was finally lifting.
Then a little while after in true dyspraxic Annie (my mum's nickname for me) style I managed to fall down the stairs and break my foot....however not only did I manage that but with such skill and precision I also threw my phone into the toilet. NBA here I come. So after a long night in A&E and confirmed two broken bones we headed home for much needed sleep and a desperate attempt to recover my phone (still not heard back from the interview at this point). The next morning I tried desperately to recover the phone but failed miserably, so had to use an old smashed backup. It was literally as the phone had the tiniest bit of battery and turned itself on that I got the phone call, "we would like to offer you the job". There were no words! Also jumping up and down with happiness avec broken foot was probably not the best idea but there we are. That was my crazy twenty-four hours where everything changed and over the next few weeks I would finish at my previous job with three days to spare before Paris. With the broken foot and walking boot in tow myself and my best friend headed for France.
This was my second trip to Paris in under a year and some might question "why Paris again?" but there is something so free and unapologetic about the French. I feel like they don't think twice about anything and are so much more instinctual. This might be a sweeping statement but I do feel like the French are far less apologetic than us British. Think of when someone accidentally bumps us at the supermarket, a British person even though they not at fault they are most likely respond "Sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry!". Yes manners are important but why do we have to be so apologetic all the time? Are we sorry for existing? I also feel as though Parisians really have got it right in terms of 'being present' and self love. Whether that is taking themselves for a coffee or a bottle of wine by the Seine, they are not afraid to indulge in themselves and to exist. The number of people I saw on their own with a coffee and book, no where urgent to go, no where to be and no immediate upload to Instagram as that was this was their time not for everyone else. We truly tried to embrace this on our trip and vowed 'NO PLANS', this weekend we are just going to live.
Over the few days we would ride the metro lines and choose where to get off at random with literally no idea where in Paris we were. The sheer randomness of it can be highlighted as the one stop we decided to get off was Strasbourg Saint-Denis purely because my driving instructor is called Denise. The restaurant we chose to have dinner was the 'Louis' purely because of a mutual love for Louis Armstrong.
With a broken foot I had also warned my friend before the trip that a night out would be impossible and that both my family and worrier of a boyfriend would be incredibly mad at me if I was to risk taking the boot off. However..... on our way back to the hostel on the first night we stumbled across this bar with a yellow awning, great music and the words 'crepes and cocktails' on the side. What more could you want? So despite only four hours sleep the night previous and having been up for a total of twenty-two hours we headed in for a few drinks. Several mojitos later I made the risky decision to discard boot, reapply make up and commit to an evening partying with the French....... n'est pas bien!
When I got back my friend was already dancing with the most lovely french bartender. Soon before we knew it we were surrounded by a big group of people happily dancing and making conversation. French, Spanish, Italian and despite the foot my competitive side came out when it came to the salsa. What can I say? I've always loved Strictly.
Waking up the next morning I was obviously concerned about what a night of salsa dancing would have done for my broken bones but the honest truth of the matter that despite the raging hangover my foot had never felt better! The black and bruised companion I had known for weeks under the boot actually looked like it had some life again and I hadn't felt so free in months. For the rest of the weekend we maintained this spontaneity and went from one little Paris cafe to the other with some scenic views on route e.g Shakespeare and Company, Notre Dame and the Louvre. Without a plan or idea of where we were going we just let our instincts guide us, whatever we wanted to eat/drink/buy we did it!
I am not under any illusion that time spent indulging in a foreign land is a sustainable way to be happy but I think a weekend spent exploring an unknown place with someone you love, whether that is a partner or friend, and being in the moment is the perfect medicine. It wasn't until the end of the trip that I shared anything on social media as I committed to living in the moment, something that my overworked brain hadn't done for an insane amount of time.
I have also now started at my new job and am trying to maintain a 'Paris state of mind'. I am really taking time to enjoy the little things and moments during the day e.g making my coffee in the morning, my walk to work, cooking, reading, things that my brain was too busy before to enjoy. It is also the moments when I'm not busy or doing anything that instead of immediately reaching for my phone to fill that period of doing nothing, I actively do nothing. It is technically a week until the boot was meant to come off but I have already ditched the thing, not only was it hideous and impossible to style but it was becoming a barrier to the new sense of freedom. I still keep getting twinges in my foot every so often and there is a slight worry in the back of my mind that I've done long term damage but there is an overriding feeling of happiness as I now say to people "ah well, if the bones are slightly ajar or I have a limp for the rest of my life, it's a limp from dancing in Paris. And I'm very OK with that".
Then a little while after in true dyspraxic Annie (my mum's nickname for me) style I managed to fall down the stairs and break my foot....however not only did I manage that but with such skill and precision I also threw my phone into the toilet. NBA here I come. So after a long night in A&E and confirmed two broken bones we headed home for much needed sleep and a desperate attempt to recover my phone (still not heard back from the interview at this point). The next morning I tried desperately to recover the phone but failed miserably, so had to use an old smashed backup. It was literally as the phone had the tiniest bit of battery and turned itself on that I got the phone call, "we would like to offer you the job". There were no words! Also jumping up and down with happiness avec broken foot was probably not the best idea but there we are. That was my crazy twenty-four hours where everything changed and over the next few weeks I would finish at my previous job with three days to spare before Paris. With the broken foot and walking boot in tow myself and my best friend headed for France.
Over the few days we would ride the metro lines and choose where to get off at random with literally no idea where in Paris we were. The sheer randomness of it can be highlighted as the one stop we decided to get off was Strasbourg Saint-Denis purely because my driving instructor is called Denise. The restaurant we chose to have dinner was the 'Louis' purely because of a mutual love for Louis Armstrong.
With a broken foot I had also warned my friend before the trip that a night out would be impossible and that both my family and worrier of a boyfriend would be incredibly mad at me if I was to risk taking the boot off. However..... on our way back to the hostel on the first night we stumbled across this bar with a yellow awning, great music and the words 'crepes and cocktails' on the side. What more could you want? So despite only four hours sleep the night previous and having been up for a total of twenty-two hours we headed in for a few drinks. Several mojitos later I made the risky decision to discard boot, reapply make up and commit to an evening partying with the French....... n'est pas bien!
When I got back my friend was already dancing with the most lovely french bartender. Soon before we knew it we were surrounded by a big group of people happily dancing and making conversation. French, Spanish, Italian and despite the foot my competitive side came out when it came to the salsa. What can I say? I've always loved Strictly.
Waking up the next morning I was obviously concerned about what a night of salsa dancing would have done for my broken bones but the honest truth of the matter that despite the raging hangover my foot had never felt better! The black and bruised companion I had known for weeks under the boot actually looked like it had some life again and I hadn't felt so free in months. For the rest of the weekend we maintained this spontaneity and went from one little Paris cafe to the other with some scenic views on route e.g Shakespeare and Company, Notre Dame and the Louvre. Without a plan or idea of where we were going we just let our instincts guide us, whatever we wanted to eat/drink/buy we did it!
I have also now started at my new job and am trying to maintain a 'Paris state of mind'. I am really taking time to enjoy the little things and moments during the day e.g making my coffee in the morning, my walk to work, cooking, reading, things that my brain was too busy before to enjoy. It is also the moments when I'm not busy or doing anything that instead of immediately reaching for my phone to fill that period of doing nothing, I actively do nothing. It is technically a week until the boot was meant to come off but I have already ditched the thing, not only was it hideous and impossible to style but it was becoming a barrier to the new sense of freedom. I still keep getting twinges in my foot every so often and there is a slight worry in the back of my mind that I've done long term damage but there is an overriding feeling of happiness as I now say to people "ah well, if the bones are slightly ajar or I have a limp for the rest of my life, it's a limp from dancing in Paris. And I'm very OK with that".
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