There's no place like home.

After 20 years in Paris, I am still trying to find my 'heart home'

Bonjour Les Amis - welcome back.

Let me get right to the point: Where does your heart live?

It’s a question I’ve been turning over ever since my friend Brian told me that his ‘heart home’ is Paris—even if he’s from another part of the world, and even if he often travels elsewhere in the world, Paris is where his heart lives.

I don’t have a definition of ‘heart home’, and frankly, I don’t think we really need to define it. I suspect it's a term we all understand, even if the definition differs slightly for each of us.

For me, I haven’t quite figured that out just yet. The question of where my heart really belongs is still up for debate….But I do know this: wherever my heart ends up (physically speaking), I will try my best to make that place feel like home—even if it’s not my forever home.

Speaking of forever home…

After many years away from the country I was born in—many of them spent in France, and a handful in the UK—I still find myself wondering: Where do I belong?

You’ve heard me touch on this before, and no doubt I’ll touch on it again. Because in my opinion, belonging isn’t fixed. I think the feeling of belonging changes as much as we change. I could have spent my entire life in the same city and still have had the same questions about my sense of belonging.

And those people who have spent their entire lives in the same area, with the same surroundings, culture, and people, and one day look up and question whether they belong (because they have changed and grown, and others around them haven’t) - they are the heroes. Everyone in the circle is better off for knowing them. They are the ones who, despite all the differences around them, keep showing up every day. That takes real courage and strength.

Each year, we are all different people (how sad if we weren’t?), so my sense of belonging and ‘home’ constantly ebbs and flows.

So, whether you are at home in your natal city, here in Paris, or traveling the world, we all have those same questions. We all wonder where we belong, and we are all searching for our true ‘heart home’.

So fear not, you are not alone. At least knowing that much helps me to feel anchored and connected.

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Speaking of feeling connected…

While I won’t say I feel a strong connection to any particular city, I do believe that home is where your heart feels most at peace. And maybe that’s what a ‘heart home’ truly is.

For some, that peace is beautifully packaged in a permanent dwelling...like Paris. I have the rare luck to see people every day who feel that Paris is meant to be their forever home. They often tell me that when they leave, they leave their heart here in Paris. They aren’t the first, and they won’t be the last.

Two hundred fifty years ago, the famous French writer Voltaire left his heart here in Paris…literally.

If you didn’t know, Voltaire’s actual heart is in a small box located in a little chamber below his statue in the Bibliothèque Nationale de France museum here in Paris.

He wins the award for going slightly over the top about it, but somehow, it’s fitting. Paris is an over-the-top type of city.

The heart of Voltaire

Speaking of Paris…

If you know me, you know my relationship with Paris has its ups and downs. But what just dawned on me (twenty years later) is that I love Paris because I am not entirely at home here. Maybe I never will be.

And I’ll go out on a limb here: It’s quite possible that you love Paris for the same reason I do.

I think we love Paris because Paris isn’t just a city.

Paris is a liminal* space.

The magic of Paris is that it is (and has been for decades) a place of transition and transformation. Time here is like being in a metaphysical corridor between who you were and who you can dare to become.

So that is the magic of Paris - Paris is my place of transformation. Being in a place of transformation is the antithesis of settled.

So while I may never feel settled in Paris, I do know that in this in-between space, there is a lot to discover and learn.

The cherry on top is that I have come to realize that I am at my best when I am in a place that forces me to learn. Paris does that each and every time.

*Liminal spaces are the uncertain transitions between where you've been and where you're going physically, emotionally, or metaphorically. To be in a liminal space means to be on the precipice of something new but not quite there yet. The word "liminal" comes from the Latin word “limen,” which means threshold. Read more here

Speaking of time…

I saw that Dorie posted a photo on Instagram about her visit to see the Vasque Olympique - the Olympic Cauldron.

She captioned it:
“For just an instant, I thought I had travelled back in time. It was glorious.”

And it got me thinking.

I love to fantasize about living in another era - but if I’m honest, what I really love is when I can have that discussion with my friend Michael (over dinner with a glass of wine in hand, of course).

The entire dinner, he’s probably asking himself when I will bring it up - well, guess what? So am I.

And when I finally do, after all these years, I know exactly what to expect. In no particular order, I’ll get a little side eye, perhaps a sigh of ‘here we go again’, maybe a head shake…but I only have to keep at it for just a little bit more, and eventually he’ll join in the discussion.

(FYI This is the beauty of a French dinner party discussion: I feel like we can discuss the same things over and over, usually end up with the same conclusion, and yet it feels fresh, exciting, and thrilling each and every time.)

I love to talk about how wonderful it would have been to be a spy during the American Revolution, or a shrew on the streets of Paris in 1720, or someone witnessing the first plane, the first car, or the first twinkle of a light bulb…or any of these wonderful moments. I could have lived in and called each and every one of them home.

Despite their attraction, the reality is that there is no place I’d rather be than fussing with Michael over when I could have lived. All the while, perfectly happy for him to remind me of how bad I would have had it, including everything from dental hygiene to life expectancy.

Typhoid and all, there’s nothing that feels more like home than those types of discussions with friends.

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Speaking of friends…

July is a special month for our friendship…meaning the close relationship between the US and France.

We've been friends for a very long time. And there is something so beautiful about that.

Even if I don’t feel that I belong in one place over the other, I recognize that there is beauty and freedom in that space.

When I think about the space between two things, I am reminded of music; the spaces between the notes also make the harmony.

And there is nothing like the harmony of a deep friendship, and I love it when I find reminders of our connection. I found this journal above in a brocante - dated 1918. You’ll see that it’s discussing the closeness of our national celebrations, and this photo shows the ‘fraternisation franco-américaine’.

So that little ‘dash’ you see between the words franco and américaine…that’s me. And I am quite happy to make that tiny space my home.

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Speaking of where my home is…

So the next time I feel out of sorts, that I don’t have a ‘heart home’ (maybe you will one day?) let’s remind ourselves that having no fixed home means you can have many (just like if you feel like you are nothing, that gives you freedom to be anything).

I will remind myself that my heart home is in liminal spaces…the spaces that I feel change me, and those spaces are everywhere. They can be a part of everyday life, depending on how I choose to see them.

So, where is my home?

It’s in my soft clothes, curled up on the couch, talking to a friend.
It’s in the quiet rush of daydreams and time travel.
It’s in the trust of someone sharing their dream with me.
It’s in the words of the writers I love.
It’s in the lit candles, in slices of pizza, and walks in the Tuilleries.
It’s in the dances around my apartment, the morning journaling, and the smell of coffee.

Just to name a few.

So home is everywhere, whenever, and wherever we want to create it.

Right now, my home is in writing this newsletter to you. Thank you for reading.

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Until next time, a prompt I’ll leave you with:

What makes your heart feel at home?

See you next time. Á bientôt, mes amis.

Jane

A few last things:

If you want to work on your Heart here in Paris, join me:

My GenerateHER retreats are here.

If you want to see my view of life in Paris, join me on my podcast:

I’m taking a summer pause to work on Season 2…let me know what you’d like us to talk about! You can find more here.

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