Finding Miracles in Paris...
Quand Même.
Bonjour Les Amis – Welcome Back.
Last time we were together, we spent a good deal of time talking about the concept of Going All In - and what it really means.
The beautiful thing is that it can mean something different to each of us. These days, when it feels so heavy and tumultuous, it is even more important to remember. You can do the right thing your way, which might look very different from mine. There is room for both. There is a place for both. All good deeds and gestures count.
Speaking of counting…
Being 161 years old and still relevant is quite an accomplishment.
Not too long ago, I spent a few hours with a 161-year-old Parisian gallerist, Berthe Weill - and I have to tell you, I am completely enchanted with her (she is firmly ensconced on my list of role models).
In just a few hours, boy, did she teach me a lot (thanks to the incredible Lynn Gumpert, who brought Berthe to life for me and so many others). You can read about the exhibit I attended in this excerpt here.
Berthe Weill (1865–1951) was a trailblazing French art dealer. She opened Galerie B. Weill in Paris in 1901, making her the first woman to establish a professional art gallery in the city.
She was the first person to sell works by Pablo Picasso in Paris, and she is known for having provided early support to masters like Matisse and Modigliani. Her gallery hosted the first group exhibition of the “Fauves,” a movement that redefined the use of color in the early 20th century.
On top of that, in years where it was unheard of, Weill actively promoted female artists, such as Emilie Charmy, ensuring they had a platform alongside their male counterparts.
In 1917, she hosted the only solo exhibition Modigliani had during his lifetime. It was shut down by the police on opening day for “indecency” (too scandalous even for Paris!) because of the nudes displayed in the window.
She also happened to be Jewish, and if you look at the dates of her life, you’ll know that meant surviving a harrowing period here in France. Wow.
And despite all of those obstacles, she made it, Quand Même!
She was a miracle to so many young artists. And in the final years of her life, they became a miracle to her.
In a beautiful full-circle moment, the community she had nurtured stepped up to support her when she needed it most. All the dots she connected along the way became a thread that held her together in her final days.
Speaking of being connected…
Guess what?!
161-year-old Berthe and I have something in common (PS—aren’t we all connected in some way?).
The city of Chicago.
Seeing this letter on display in Paris, written by the Mayor of Chicago in the 19th century, completely knocked me over. I could have easily overlooked this small letter in a glass case, but seeing it reminded me of my own connection here—the unlikely connection of this Chicagoan in Paris.
Isn’t it wonderful when we discover these beautiful, unexpected connections? I suspect the harder we look, the more we find.
In any case, I thought it was a small miracle. And it kind of was.
But I shouldn’t have been surprised. In my morning journaling practice, I ask for a miracle—and, like always, when I am present enough to see it, it arrives.
And the most astonishing thing is this: miracles are magnetic. Once one appears, others begin arriving, one after another.
Ever since my afternoon with Berthe, I have been overflowing with small miracles.
Speaking of small miracles…
And before you ask, the miracle of winning the lottery hasn’t arrived just yet, but I haven’t asked for that just yet either.
My miracles are small but mighty. Yet, they can be elusive. It’s hard these days to stay present enough to see them when they appear. But if I can (and I have a personality that tends to lean toward the critical), then you can too.
We actually come across them every day, if we choose to see them: they often show up as the people who cross our paths.
Speaking of people who have crossed our paths…
Not too long ago, I crossed town to visit my favorite café to work and write. Had there been a split-second difference, I might not have arrived just as the wonderful woman I follow online was leaving. Right there in the doorway, we had our first in-person meeting.
That feels like a miracle to me.
Or when a dear friend was able to join me at the last minute to sip coffee and share thoughts on every topic imaginable.
I count that as another miracle.
And sure enough, yet another miracle appeared. While at a café, I asked the woman sitting next to me to watch my belongings for just a moment. We started chatting, and it turns out she’s a local writer. We now have a writing date planned.
And it gets better.
In the same week, I snuck into Le Bon Marché for a “quick look.” I was in the neighborhood and couldn’t help myself (you know I’m a Right Bank person, so this was rare). But ever since discovering the stationery department earlier this year, I will absolutely travel for paper and pens.
While browsing—adding a few more items to my ever-growing pen collection—I suddenly heard my name. I spun around to see two beautiful women I know who were visiting Paris, standing there in the same department. They too were shopping for stationery. The best part? They called me a journal influencer. I could not have been prouder.
Before leaving, I wandered down to the ground floor to mooch around the artist pop-up area and ended up meeting the lovely Charlotte, who created La Ferme Angel.
A true test of my French fluency followed when I tried to explain that I have always loved her name, thanks to the animated film from my childhood, Charlotte’s Web.
(Which I now now is called La Toile de Charlotte in French…)
Not knowing the name in French, I tried to describe the storyline. Somewhere along the way, I must have conjugated something very wrong, because her face grew increasingly confused as I attempted to explain this beautiful story. At one point, I realized she might have understood that I was suggesting a pig and a spider had a love affair, that the spider had children, and that the spider then died, etc (remember, there’s no word for “like” in French).
So, no, I don’t think I quite captured the magic of this charming and touching story, but Charlotte and I shared such a wonderful moment.
Two people who might never have crossed paths are laughing about a love affair between a pig and a spider. And it doesn’t escape me that I had just been talking about my reverence for artists and my ability to go all in, and now here I was, chatting with one in Le Bon Marché.
And the irony, of course, is that Charlotte’s Web is really just a story about amitié, deep friendship between two unlikely friends. They were complete strangers, held different beliefs, and led very different lives. And yet they managed to love each other.
How novel that feels, especially today.
So, you see, I believe the real miracles are the beautiful souls who surround us. The people who, for a moment, remind us that we have more in common than not. That joy can be found in small exchanges. But I also believe we recognize these miracles only when we’ve begun weaving our own inner web of kindness, hope, and attention.
Those beautiful webs we weave not only connect us all—they are miracle catchers. Catchers of kindness. But here is what took me longer to understand: those webs don’t begin between us.
They begin within us.
Speaking of begining with us…
It is still winter here in Paris—cold and beautiful. Whether you follow the meteorological calendar (last day of winter: February 28) or the astronomical one (March 20), winter is with us a little while longer.
And thank goodness, because winter is beautiful. Especially in your Jardin Secret d’Hiver—your Winter Secret Garden.
In the spirit of Going All In, I invite you to go all in on this season in your own winter garden: the garden of your hopes and dreams.
It’s hard to find glimmers of light on these dark winter days, which is why it feels especially important to look inward. Because before we can catch miracles in others, we must grow the capacity to recognize them in ourselves.
We must seek out hope and joy, and find those glimmers inside ourselves first. Once we do, I believe it becomes easier to see them in others. Perhaps these are the seeds we are meant to plant for the spring ahead.
And despite the current weather, we know spring will come; it always does.
Speaking of the Spring ahead…
Winter is a wonderful time to go deep within and quietly plan what comes next. Winter is preparation. It shifts our focus, asking us to slow down, to listen, to tend the soil. The Jardin Secret is still growing, just beneath the surface, preparing for the season to come.
As the gardener of your Jardin Secret, like any farmer, you might:
Let the soil rest
Draw out your plots for the year ahead. What do you want to grow personally and professionally?
Consider the soil you’ll plant your seeds in and the community that will help you nourish and care for them. And if you haven’t found that community yet, don’t worry, you still can!
If you need a little help getting started, use these two worksheets.
And yes, in the midst of everything going on in the world, is it okay to seek out hope and joy?
Yes, it is.
And I believe one of the best places to find them is in your Jardin Secret.
Happy gardening.
Until next time, a prompt I’ll leave you with :
What can you do to find little miracles around you?
A bientot mes amis!
-Jane
Spring is a wonderful season for gathering.
If you are a woman business owner and Entrepreneur and looking for a community to help you grow, take a look at The Paris Pirouette - applications close on February 8th!
If you need to step away from the noise and have a refresh and reminder of how fabulous you are, take a look at my retreats, Les Saisons. They are built around you and for you - to reflect the various seasons we are all in.
Et The Pod!
I will be recording the last episode of Season Two for the GenerateHER podcast this week! I am already excited about what we will be discussing in the season ahead. If you have ideas, please let me know!
Thank you. Looking for miracles. Just little ones. I’ve found several in Paris. I’m also using the term glimmers. Flashes of lightness. And I find those to be of such comfort ❤️. Stay safe. Sending hugs. 🤗
I loved learning about amitie! You are just magical, Jane! <3