Après une année . . .

 Just about a year ago, I started my efforts to "go French." I've been posting about it since then, usually about once a month and please - feel free to go back through the archive and review my journey (and struggles!). This blog is equipped with a search feature over on the right - just type in "French" and you'll find all the posts.

So what's happened since then? I'm pleased to report that the answer is, "Mostly good things" and a slew of unexpected things, thanks mostly to wonderful people like you who have read the posts and encouraged me in a hundred ways.

I'm about a third of the way through a basic French language course, taught through an app. I've attended a couple of "French table" get-togethers here in town, although I'm still dreadfully shy about speaking the language. I've cleared out much of my wardrobe (although I still have far too many pieces - have to keep on that) and started putting together a smaller group of classic pieces. I've made a conscious effort to add luxuries to my everyday life, whether that be using a glass pitcher for my office water and adding limes to it or taking dance lessons with my much-beloved FryDaddy (one-and-two, three-and-four, five, six). I'm more likely to take better care of my skin and take time for the simple therapy of a hot bath. I've learned a bit about scarves and have tried new foods. (Still have a taste for embarrassing quantities of cheap drugstore candy when the chips are down, though.) I have a chaise!

Like any fundamental shift, it hasn't been a smooth trajectory. I've had a number of "course corrections" throughout the last year. For example, right now, a host of deadlines are threatening to overwhelm me. Prior to last year, Standard Operating Procedure would have been to flail about and put myself last on the list. (Who am I kidding? I wouldn't have made it to the list!) Now, it's different. I am far more likely to take a few minutes to get my desk organized before leaving work so I have the next day's work already cut out. I've found this greatly assists me in maintaining a more serene attitude. I have to fight the urge to power through like a Puritan sometimes - it really is better to take a deep breath, smile a half-smile and think before plunging in like a Pomeranian with a hula hoop. (Yes, I don't get that image either. Sort of the point.) Actually, today was a course correction day. I spent ten minutes tidying up the house - you can always tell how close writing deadlines are by how cluttered I let the house get - and I dug out the bread machine. Something about fresh-baked bread always feels a little decadent.

Look - life is generally difficult for everyone you meet and it's unlikely to get easier. Politically, things are a royal mess. The pocketbook is slim and the news makes any thinking person glum. And yes - I know that much of what I'm describing sounds frivolous and even shallow.

But it's not.

There is so much to be joyful about and, to be candid, the world needs our joy and our whimsy. Don't make the mistake of confusing "whimsy" with "mania." Whimsy, which I'm trying very hard to embrace these days, has an air of playfulness about it. (Mania, on the other hand, has a sharp edge of desperation to it.) Whimsy sees the value in the fanciful; it delights in kindness and quirk - and that's serious business, for these days (sad to say), it's quirky in America to look after yourself. I firmly believe that by doing so, we have the energy, drive, and grit to demand that others be treated fairly.

As American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson so memorably stated, "There is no beautifier of complexion, or form, or behavior, like the wish to scatter joy and not pain around us."

However you choose to live that quote - whether you organize protests or plant a garden, whether you raise money for your chosen cause or canvass for your candidate, whether you read to a child or needlepoint a cushion, whether you experiment with a new recipe or dig out the sprinkler to spend a late afternoon playing with your kids instead of preparing that quarterly report - go forth and scatter joy. Regardless of whether you consider that American or French, few enough people are doing it these days - and we could all use more of it.