
“The great thing about being [here] is that no one judges you for doing nothing, it’s practically an art form,” said by the character Mindy Chen. I jumped on the band wagon (again a bit late to the trends but it’s still a band wagon nonetheless) and started watching “Emily in Paris”. I love how simple things convey some of the most important messages. It’s common sense we all live life in different ways. Different cultures, different ideas of how to live and it’s a beautiful thing as we capture all the different facets of life and different ways to make life matter. For those who haven’t seen the show, we have an American transplant unexpectedly learning to navigate Paris and getting a lot of life lessons on how to assimilate to a new culture. To experience different ways of life is the only way to really understand what life is like. We take vacations to get little snippets of all the possibilities in the world but even that we approach with our American idea of what vacation is supposed to be and we think we can learn all our lessons about the world in 5 days. We have this insane idea that our entire lives must be done on a schedule and that our worth is determined by how much we do. Other cultures understand that learning about other ways of life establish connection whereas we approach it as some sort of conquest. Our lifestyle promotes faster, conquest, more, bigger, stronger, and building our own empires.
Real life is all about connection. Not the networking type of connection where we only look at the value of someone for what they can do. Sure, there’s a natural component of networking with people but there’s also the actual relationship we form that goes beyond. The soul connections. So it comes down to learning that there are other ways to do things. And sometimes we don’t have to do anything. We spend a lot of time moving because we feel we have to keep moving. Other cultures really take their time and value their time and the experience of life and forming relationships and they know that in order to do that, we have to have a relationship with ourselves as well and we need to honor and recognize our own time. That means knowing when to stop. The reference in the quote is exactly that: in France, with life coming first, no one notices if you have to disappear for a while and if you have to take some time off. They don’t pull the weekend warrior routine where they are so focused on work during the week that their time off is spent on all the other things in their personal life as if their personal if is something that needs to fit in between the work. They build their lives and work to support that, not the other way around where work defines them. Savoring life IS life. The savoring is where we find joy and joy begets more joy. Sometimes less is more and slowing down, we can certainly see more.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve heard a quote about Europeans savoring the time spent doing nothing—it was referenced in “Eat, Pray, Love” and it is in those moments of quiet and doing nothing that we find peace. We come back to ourselves. It’s completely uncomfortable to transition to doing nothing after moving all the time but if we learn to question the value of that moving and what the moving serves then we see how a little discomfort to re-regulate the nervous system really matters. I’ve never understood why we place such a high value on buzzing about and completing the never ending to-do list. When we’re kids we don’t worry about all that needs to be done—we focus on doing what is right in front of us at the time. Sure, we may flit from thing to thing but we do it out of natural progression and curiosity, building our experiences through joy. That curiosity and drive is chipped away as we are taught that all our time must be spent working toward something. We take life far too seriously in many ways. I’m not saying we shouldn’t have goals, I’m just saying balancing those goals requires the same level of care-free following our instincts sometimes. It’s important to learn to do nothing so something can come of it.








