The other day, as I was walking down the road to the Intermarche - yes, I am back in France - I had this thought: It is impossible to be sad here.
Sure, there might be moments of sadness - everyone has those - that is normal. But in the midst of such beauty and such peace - because peace is the striking feature here - it is much easier to choose happiness rather than the alternative.
On top of that, how is it possible to be anything but gleeful, when you can pop around the corner and get.....the most glorious loaf of light brown, slightly sour bread, still warm from the oven?
And then....drift into the store next door to grab butter the colour of the sun?
And then .... walk down wide lanes shaded by leafy green trees....and through narrow cobblestoned side streets which - believe me - have enough stories to tell to fill a lifetime with. Really. I can just tell.
How much, I wonder, is the lack of beauty in our lives, and the fact that we eat Becel instead of butter, and Wonderbread instead of Paillasse, responsible for the excessive use of, say, Zoloft?
Maybe if everyone lived in beautiful places that insisted on taking life slowly, and ate real food made as it should be, we would be much better off.
I am beginning to think that if everyone in the world lived in the equivalent of a small French town, happiness would be the norm, rather than the exception.
Also....this is nice
No comments:
Post a Comment