the crunchy sound of my footsteps,
 the soft morning light through the olive trees
Joie de Vivre - Provence

It was the same each day, the crunchy sound of my footsteps on the pebbled path stopped before I registered the sight that had once again caught me in a moment of awe; the soft morning light through the olive trees took my breath away.

Fifteen of us came together in Provence this September to ease into a different way of living - one where each day is measured by its unhurried embodied moments and not the tyranny of accomplishments and to-do lists. 

It’s not easy to push against the well-practiced scripts of productivity and outcomes and yet, finally on the 4th day, seated at the large oak table my hands covered in croissant crumbs, I feel myself fall into a different groove. I am poised in curiosity, mesmerized by the meandering chatter that crisscrosses the table. My mind has finally stopped its incessant whirling, and the anxiety that I assumed was a baseline state of being has quietly abated. When a pause descends on the table, someone draws out the conversation with an unhurried question, much like a languid cat stretching in the sun and, with a collective exhale, we settle back into our seats, comfortable with no hurry to move on. 

Such a simple moment and so far from my normal at home where the tyranny of the to-do list is as punishing as it is long. Most of my conversations are functional, time-boxed within the little lines on my calendar, my actions tethered to "getting it done”.

I didn’t realize how depleted I was when I arrived in Provence. 

Like many of you, I survived Covid, grateful to have come through this incredibly difficult time with my health and my family. I had done “the great pivot” and kept myself afloat. But it wasn’t until I was standing hand poised to pick a ripe fig off of the tree outside our side door, that I felt a deep stirring for something more. It was time to shake off the necessary survival mindset of the last few years and choose a different way of being. 

Surviving is a short-term strategy, necessary in times of stress. It places one foot in front of the other, with the primary aim of keeping all systems “a go” in order to get to the next day.     

Survival mode depends on messages from our threat-seeking radars - we are constantly attuning to what might knock us off track and measure success by making it to the finish line. 

Figs, on the other hand, are a part of thriving; where our radars don’t seek threats but opportunities, moments that contribute to our flourishing, a state where we are filled with the vigorous energy of growth, expansion, fulfillment and joy.

My survival persona would have ignored this strange fruit that had upended itself in front of me and hurried onto my productivity list. But I was here to flourish, so instead, I picked the fig, broke it open to expose the moist, pink inside and took a bite. 

Goodness! 

There is a reason that so many old-world stories depict this experience as a luxurious, tingling, orgasmic moment. Nothing compares and don’t even bother trying to recreate it with a store-bought container-shipped version. 

“Now this is living” my heart exclaimed and in that moment I realized it was time to leave behind the limited actions of survival and come back into my full desire for awe, wonder and joy and to living my life to its fullest.

Just like my participants, I need to find a new rhythm, one that does more than get me through the day, from one task to the next. I am heady with the possibility of taking a deep breath and shifting the measuring my day from “did I get it done?” to “did it make me happy”. My Joie de Vivre has different measures and thus inspired different activities. 

That night my list of markers for a good day didn’t include a list of the tasks and accomplishments of survival mode instead, the moment of Joie de Vivre:

• Had a quiet awe-moment in nature - didn’t rush, just enjoyed the sounds and smells

• Let go of the list and trusted my instinct to be in flow

• Felt the connection of chatter at the table but didn’t feel I had to lead the conversation or wrap it up in order to get to “the list”

• Ate a warm fig right from the tree - so good I thought my head would pop off

I slept so well. Perhaps for the first time in years, I didn’t use my agenda as a bedtime story. I was able to sink into an unhurried time and with it came such ease and peace of mind. 

How will you know, head on the pillow, that you have been living your “best life”? What markers will indicate to you that it was a day full of Joie de vivre and that you are thriving?