Connecting the Dots

Dawn Z Bournand

I chose Paris because I knew it would not be easy. I was coming out of a divorce that had knocked the wind out of me and I was trying to learn to breathe again. Somehow I instinctively knew that smooth and easy was not the medicinal balm I needed. I needed a challenge, something to stretch my wings and push me to new limits. Europe came to mind immediately. It seemed a big enough contrast to my golf club, gated community home in the northern Atlanta suburbs.

At the end of my second year at University, a friend and I had decided we wanted to backpack around Europe for a semester. It was a life-changing trip and an adventure I would recommend for every person to do at least once in her life. London had felt like a second home at that time and so that would seem to be the natural choice for this healing sabbatical I was planning to take; but no, London would be too effortless. I needed a challenge, so it had to be France, a country whose language I barely spoke, a place where I had a few acquaintances but no real ties, and the one country that my backpacking adventures actually left me questioning why so many people loved it.

I booked my ticket to Paris, signed up for a year-long photography course and through amazingly serendipitous events even found roommates all within weeks of deciding I would make the leap across the Atlantic, without much of a safety net.

My mother coined a phrase for me during those early days: a phoenix from the flames. I had been burned by the former life I loved disappearing so suddenly, but Paris was my place of re-birth. I savored the exotic cultural mix, the myriad of sounds, fragrances, colors and tastes and the rich blend of the very, very old with avant-garde new. As I came to know the city, I no longer questioned why people loved it so much, I too had fallen under the spell. The healing process had begun.

The challenge of defining myself anew and having absolutely no pre-conceived ideas coming from the people I met, allowed me to ask and answer questions like: Who am I? What really matters to me? What brings me joy? What legacy do I want to leave behind? Admittedly, not very easy questions to answer but they felt so right in this time of figuring out who I was and what made my soul sing. Traveling to the land of self-discovery is a journey worth taking, and one I highly recommend. You don't have to cross an ocean to do it - unless you want to, of course. Taking the time to ask yourself deep, introspective questions in an environment where all expectations have been left behind and you can be the you that you want to be, the you you have really known all along that you are, opens up an amazing space for possibility.

There is something that happens when you live in Paris as opposed to being "just" a tourist – Paris becomes a part of you. Well, that is how it happened for me, at least. It was not the grand monuments, the awe-inspiring art or the plethora of gourmet goodies that won me over. I grew to adore the crooked, narrow streets, the gorgeous odors of baguettes or pain au chocolat coming from the nearby boulangerie, and the quirky shops that you just happen upon every time you walk the city. Even something as mundane as lugging my laundry to the nearby laundromat, with my dear new friend Alexandra from Switzerland, was a charming and memorable moment.

As my photography course finished and the year was coming to an end, I realized I was not ready to go back home just yet. So I found a job teaching English and that is where destiny stepped in. On my way home from work one night I met my future husband on the metro and that was that. Five short months later we were married. That one year trip has now turned into seventeen years; France has become my adopted home and the country where my three sons, the lights of my life, were born.

It has not been all glorious, dream-like moments, though. As it is everywhere, life here has been filled with extreme highs and lows and all the moments and feelings in between. I have so many emotions tied to this beautiful and elusive place.

Shock: being awakened by my mother's call to tell me that Princess Diana had just died from a horrible car accident that had taken place only a short distance away from where I was living.

Horror: holding my oldest son in my arms when he took what I thought was his last breath as his three week old body gave in to the cruel, rare disease (HUS) that was eating him up.

Elation: thanking the dedicated medical staff and one of the only doctors in the world specialized in HUS for doing everything in their power over two long months to save our son's tiny fragile life and succeeding (I will forever be a proponent for social medicine after that experience!)

Terror: answering the call from my family in Florida as I was crossing the Place des Victoires and hearing them tell me that the World Trade Center had just been attacked and that we were possibly at war; wondering if I would ever see my family in the United States again.

Bliss: watching my three sons grow into healthy, happy, heart-centered young men as they embrace their cultural mix and create friendships on both sides of the Atlantic.

Gratitude: reflecting on the very rich life I have experienced here in France, the people I have met, the experiences I have had, and the feelings I have felt.

My leap has certainly not been uneventful and the wonderful part is that along the way, I have created my own safety net. I was eventually able to build my career in France and became a writer, editor and speaker for the MBA market. Then, a few years ago, I realized there was still something more I wanted and needed to do. After speaking to and working with many women executives around the world, I saw their lack of true fulfillment in the work place and in their lives. It...