Quiet Time is Nice Time

Yoga is too expensive.

Beaurocracy puts me in terrible moods.

I gasp like a caught fish trying to get out of the metro.

I mutter at strangers for their idiotic pavement zig-zags.

Zen is a hard thing to find, but the search must continue.

I have started to take day trips out of Paris, profiting from inexpensive train travel to sweet little towns with matching people, to be able to breathe, take photos and reconnect with the Katie I used to know. There have been times when I have felt as I were suffocating with stress and longing for home, and the panic would take a scary amount of time to subside. Prevention is what I’m looking for.

My last trip was to Chantilly, cleverly on a Monday when everything is closed. However I managed to lose myself and all my worries in the forest of the Chateau, just me, my Nikon and a very chilly day. I found motionless blue carp, the restaurant where sugar was added to cream to create what we know today as Chantilly and even some deer. My brain clicked off and my chest loosened, and a sense of calm washed over me, and all my worries melted away. I wish I could have such a feeling readily available in my pocket as needed.