I’ve just returned from a long weekend in Paris.
What a beautiful city!
The City of Love…
Walking through the Louvre, along the Champs-Elysees and particularly around the Eiffel Tower, signs of romance were everywhere.
Couples of every age, and gender, were holding hands and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.
It was wonderful to see.
The main streets of Paris are so well-kept, clean and beautifully maintained.
And the architecture is breath-taking.
My trip wasn’t just to see the sights, it was to improve my dancing, my Kizomba in particular.
Kizomba is a slow, close, symbiotic dance between a leader and their follower.
Their aim is to dance so perfectly in tune with each other that they dance as one.
I often dance Kizomba with my eyes closed, that way I can feel the music and the lead more, and I can follow more precisely.
I need to have complete trust that my partner will lead me safely.
That’s not easy for a woman who likes to be in charge 🙂
The dance originated in Africa and slowly worked its way to Europe.
Nowadays, the best Kizomba teachers in the world are found in Paris.
We flew into Charles De Gaulle and took the train into the city, then the tube into the suburbs, where our dance studio was situated.
I’m strictly a shuttle/taxi girl normally, so I can’t deny, I felt out of my comfort zone, but excited at the same time.
The suburbs were very different to the beautiful centre.
They were the darker side of Paris.
Most major cities in the world have this contrast.
The streets in our little town were dirty, graffitied and run down.
There was dog poop and rubbish EVERYWHERE.
There were many homeless people living on the streets.
We saw a very obvious drug deal.
It didn’t feel safe.
It was hard to reconcile that we were in the same city.
I have some French from my late teens and had no choice but to use it, as nobody in this part of the city spoke any English.
We’d opted for a suite in a small French villa, rather than a standard hotel.
Despite the area, the villa was lovely, and our suite overlooked beautiful French gardens rather than the dirty streets.
It was like a little oasis of peace and tranquillity.
The owner didn’t speak a word of English, so we had to get by with my basic French.
Despite this, we got along swimmingly and he made us feel very welcome and at home.
We were treated like part of the family.
He prepared only French food.
Once again, I felt out of my comfort zone, but happy and welcomed at the same time.
This felt like real France.
Vive la difference!
When we arrived at the dance studio on Saturday morning, everything was very relaxed.
Nobody rushed.
Nothing started on time.
We were the only English people on the course.
Although there was some translation for us, most of the teaching was in French.
My mind was going a hundred miles an hour, trying to translate the French into English and learn the intricacies of the dance at the same time.
All day I was dancing very close with men I didn’t know, who didn’t speak my language, but it didn’t matter one bit, because it was all about getting lost in Kizomba.
We danced for 8 hours on Saturday and 6 hours on Sunday.
It was so wonderful to experience my favourite dance, at such a high level, for such an intense period.
I was shattered, but floating on a cloud.
When we finished on Sunday we headed straight back into the centre again.
We wanted to experience more of Paris before we had to fly home.
We knew that the forecast wasn’t good, but decided to go for it anyway.
Although I’ve been very lucky and been to many cities in the world, I’ve never fully experienced the beauty of Paris.
We decided it was worth taking the risk.
What harm could a bit of rain do?!
We ate in a beautiful little bistro in Notre Dame and then started to stroll along the Seine.
It was unbelievably warm, and I was swept away with how lovely it all was.
I felt the first big (and I mean big) raindrop on my arm.
Then another one…and another one…and then the heavens opened.
I’ve never seen rain like it.
We ran across a bridge to find some shelter, as the wind started to swirl.
The temperature dropped suddenly and it almost felt like winter.
The Seine was being churned up and creating huge choppy waves.
The wind was swirling more and more.
I could hardly walk straight; the wind was pushing me that hard.
I could feel twigs and grit hitting my face and legs and I could barely move because the wind was so strong.
We heard screaming as a large tree branch broke off and fell, blocking the path.
We just kept running until we could find some shelter.
Once under shelter, we watched the storm.
The rain kept coming down and the thunder and lightning was right above us.
We could see the wind swirling and circling.
We were right in the centre of a cyclone.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
Chairs and branches were being blown everywhere.
The rain was flooding the streets.
The thunder was booming right on top of us.
I was out of my comfort zone, but I knew I would be ok.
Then, as suddenly as the wind and rain had started, they stopped.
We were absolutely soaked through.
People who had been scared and screaming, now started smiling and laughing again.
The sun came out and it started to warm up again.
We found a café to dry off.
An hour later, apart from the broken branches and debris, it was as if it had never happened.
We enjoyed the city of Love for the rest of the evening.
A tree had fallen on the line for our train so we had to find an alternative route back to the villa.
Many buses and trains were cancelled…but we got home eventually.
Why am I sharing all of this with you?
Because today I feel shattered, but ON TOP OF THE WORLD.
I feel like I’ve been stretched as a person.
I’m not too old to learn new things or live a totally different way, once in a while.
It’s so good for us to have adventures.
It’s so good for us to break our routines and do something “out there” every now and again.
Routine and structure are great, but not if you have too much of them.
That’s what leads to a boring, unfulfilled life.
That’s what keeps you stuck in a rut.
It’s so good to push yourself out of your comfort zone and learn/experience new things.
To meet new people.
To experience different cultures.
To challenge yourself once in a while.
That’s how we grow.
Working with a coach or therapist if you’ve never done it before, can feel like a scary thing.
What if it doesn’t work for me?
What if she’s no good and I’ve wasted my money?
What if it’s painful, as I’m going over past things that have hurt me?
What if, what if, what if…
You will spend some time out of your comfort zone, but it will be oh so worth it, I promise.
Just like it was for me this weekend.
Life will take on a different flavour.
You’ll see the world with new eyes.
You’ll be stretched as a person.
You won’t be bored and stuck in a rut any longer.
You can fully experience life and everything it has to offer.
Aren’t you ready for an adventure?
Then book a call.
Beaucoup d’amour
Christina xx