I am from a small town. The majority of people in this small town do not make it to Europe in their lifetimes. I am from a family that never even talked about France, let alone dreamed of visiting this country. I have no idea why I ever wanted to travel to Paris. Perhaps I saw a picture of it at school or in a magazine. Maybe it was in a movie. Anyway, when I turned ten years old, one of my friends gave me a memory book for my birthday. Together, as bff's, we filled out this little book with our favorite singers, movies, food, etc. In the space that read "Where I'd like to visit" I wrote Paris, France.
I saved that little book for years in the back of my closet and then in a box after I moved into a different house. Two years ago, while going through old things, I came across that little book, and out of pure curiosity, I decided to read what I thought of life back then. When I ran across the page about Paris, I could barely believe my eyes. I wondered how at ten years old, I had even thought to write it down. I probably never thought I would make it to Paris as a ten-year-old. Or maybe I did... maybe ten-year-olds are still young enough to be living their lives where the hardships of reality do not always win out. By the time I found that book, I had already been to Paris twice on little trips and was yearning for yet another adventure. Was my dream of Paris at ten like the dream of the shepherd in the fable?
I was able to spend two months in France last summer. It was definitely costly, but it was worth it. While I was there, I couldn't help but picture myself there permanently. After my first trip I wanted to be there for at least a year, but this was different. I really felt at home, even though I was thousands of miles away from my family and friends. Paris makes me happy. This little realization is what made up my mind to spend the next year there. Find what it is that makes you happy and do it. OK. Not a problem. I now have no strings attached and am going to make this happen. I am just wondering what my future will hold.
Will my journey lead me back home as it did in The Alchemist, or is my "Personal Legend" just waiting for me, hidden down a street where Hemingway strolled? What is my treasure? Stay tuned...