Whoever said happiness isn't a place is an idiot. Happiness is sitting along the side of the Seine River, devouring the savory remnants of a fresh quiche, pressing my finger into the buttery flakes so as not to miss out on any of it. Happiness is carelessly watching my feet dangle over an ancient cobblestone wall as I spend a lazy afternoon drinking in the view of the Eiffel Tower from my lunch spot and watching the beautiful Parisians walk by. Happiness is sitting on a park bench at magic hour in a Parisian garden and ravaging a warm baguette, letting the crumbs fall all over my lap and not giving one last shit who sees me. Happiness is walking aimlessly along the streets of Paris and stopping to look up. Happiness is picnicking in the French countryside with the echo of chirping birds and ancient church bells in the distance as your soundtrack. Whoever said happiness isn't a place hasn't been to Paris.
I try to set an intention for each trip I go on. It is my belief that every place holds a lesson. For me, Paris was my lesson in self-love. I took myself on dates and indulged in wine and beautiful dinners. I wandered the city in a dream and enjoyed my own company and the company of dear friends. I admired the couples as they strolled by and smiled with a warm heart at love's purity. I walked through a park and watched a child twirl under the petals of the cherry blossoms as they danced from their branches in the soft breeze. There were many times I was brought to tears in private moments, not from sadness, but from the pure joy attained in the realization of life's magic.
Photos of me taken by Sarah Zimmer and/or Margot Landen.