It’s no surprise to anyone how difficult this year has been, or how challenging it continues to be.
With the current state of affairs, travel is considered a general no-no. In fact, most people are insisting on spending money boosting their own country’s tourism rather than going elsewhere. While we can travel, we most likely shouldn’t. For me, the choice to get on a plane has been fraught with indecision, paranoia and guilt, but in the end, sometimes there simply isn’t an option.
My family suffered a terrible loss this year, not unexpected but shockingly painful even if you know it’s coming. You tell yourself you are prepared. You understand the concept intellectually, but when it happens, it’s like someone ripped your heart in two and you will never be the same. So, I had to get on a plane for the first time since everything locked down. Being with family and breaking from the stupor of being stuck in one place for so long was a welcome change. Heart wrenchingly difficult, but necessary.
Next, I needed to get some necessary paperwork taken care of, which required another trip to a city with a certain consulate. So, I hopped another short flight, sorted out my business then spent four glorious days on the Sunshine Coast in a small town right on the ocean where my dear friend lives. It filled my soul to be with a friend again in her home like normal times. It helped me feel healthy and reminded me how much we’ve all lost over this year, namely connecting in truly meaningful ways with friends and family in person.
While I desperately wanted to get back to France, this year so much has been out of our control, I had no idea if it would even be possible. I diligently read the news, checked for updates and waited to hear if borders would reopen. When July arrived, the EU said Canadians would now be welcome, I crossed my fingers and bought a ticket. Absolutely nothing has been guaranteed this year, so I knew things could change on a dime.
It’s felt as though I’ve been holding my breath for months. I have never felt so lost, so out of control, so broken as this year. Our lives are profoundly changed, and I am not sure I’ll ever completely recover. I feel a lot of guilt for travelling when we aren’t encouraged to. I’ve wrestled with this idea, but in the end, decided to come to France if I still could. Some might have a differing opinion about what I should have done. And honestly, I am not confident if it was the right thing. All I know is for the first time this year, I don’t feel out of control. I don’t feel scared or worried. I finally feel a bit of calmness settle over me for the first time in months. I see blue skies, quiet roads and endless sweeping views which make me feel better. Things aren’t normal here, but nothing this year has been, so not normal is starting to feel commonplace.
I am here in Provence. It was one choice. And so far, I am pretty sure it will end up being a decision I will be happy with for as long as it lasts. Deep breaths…
