The kozunak and Easter eggs finished and on the table, Francois, Teddy, Misho and I set out for a hike. The day was chilly and cloudy, but I was prepared to brave the cold to see a bit more of this beautiful area of France.
It's so fucking gorgeous.
I sighed. Deeply content, even though my skin was covered in goosebumps and I shivered with cold.
FRANCE! you were supposed to be warm. What happened?
"How are you so happy?" Teddy asked me at one point. Probably after I'd laughed at something not-funny at all. Simply for the sake of laughing.
"It's always strange to me..." I told my Bulgarian friend, who also seems to smile incessantly. "It's strange that people look at me and see happiness. I have so many references on couchsurfing that talk about how I'm such a positive person and have such good energy. And while I'm really glad that I project positivity, it's definitely not what I feel all the time."
"I get stressed. I get really stressed. That's one reason hitching with Misho was so good for me. He really helped me to stay calm and kept me laughing. Always laughing with that guy."
"I get really anxious and have to work to manage my anxiety. Like when I'm in airports. I get these nasty headaches because of how anxious I am, so I take ibuprofen in my carry-on whenever I fly. And I listen to Jack Johnson. I feel debilitating sadness. I get depressed. I can feel unbelievably lonely... so, so lonely. I once spent three months without having a single meaningful conversation. Half the time, I'm overwhelmed and confused and on edge. So I have all these other emotions which I feel intensely, and I'm flabbergasted when people look at me and think, "wow, that girl's really happy." I'm surprised that they don't see the rest of me. That all they see is the happiness."
"It makes me think of a joke," Teddy said thoughtfully. "Well, not really a joke, but a story. There was a man who was very depressed and at his therapist's office. He said to his therapist, "I'm so sad, all the time. I don't know how to go on. Nothing makes me happy anymore." And the therapist said, "I know will make you happy! There's a clown in town. The clown makes everyone happy. No one can watch the clown and not laugh." "I know," the patient responded. "I'm that clown.""
I don't expect to be happy all the time. I don't WANT to be happy all the time. There's meaning and beauty in sadness, anger, frustration, fear. I wouldn't feel like a complete human being if I only experienced happy. My life would feel so bland. So flat. It would be like someone kept plunking one note on the piano, over and over again, instead of blending notes into a beautiful song.
The thing is... I don't think any single emotion is ugly. Just like no single note on the piano is ugly. Played together, some are discordant, sure. Played at the wrong time, some don't make sense and can throw off the song. But in and of themselves, they're just notes. And my job, as the pianist, is to practice, to develop a good ear, and to learn how to integrate the notes into a piece that is meaningful to me.
But people seem to view me like that clown. All they hear is the happy note. And that's okay. I'm glad that they're hearing something that inspires more happiness. But I need to always make sure to surround myself with people who take the time to sit and listen. To hear the entirety of my song. People with whom I can feel whole around. Who accept the other notes. Because otherwise I'll start to feel like I'm only allowed happiness. That if I'm not happy, I'm not worthwhile.
Teddy and Francois took Misho and me out for hot chocolate and cookies, and it felt heavenly to wrap our cold fingers around our hot mugs. The walk had been stunning, but my body felt like it could use a bit of thawing out.
A hot shower when we get back. Yes. And it's so comforting to know that the water will, in fact, be hot. And will last for more than two minutes.
There are things I don't miss about Nepal.
Luz made another of her feasts that evening, I indulged in yet more cheese, Francois ate more "it's not applesauce. It's compote!" and we all climbed into our respective beds.
I could get used to this routine. But I've only got two more nights in this bed. Two more days with these people. Just do your best to enjoy it, Bourget.
Easter morning, we waited until everyone was up and fairly lucid before we sliced into Misho's massive kozunak. Then we each grabbed eggs and eat each other's eggs until there was only one remaining unbroken egg.
Which was declared the winner.
Bulgarian Easter is hilarious.
We went on a final walk through the countryside that afternoon. And I allowed myself to feel sad. Sad and grateful.
These emotions play together so often in my life. Gratitude for an incredible, memorable experience, and sadness at the thought of leaving an experience that brought me such joy.
But I like the sound of these notes. It's one of the defining characteristics of my song.
And these notes. Are going to play HELLA loud when my Bulgarian leaves me in two weeks.
We spent our last night in Ambert playing cards and drinking an abundance of liquors from Christian's ample alcohol cabinet.
We said goodnight fairly early, as we had to leave the house at 7:30 the next morning. Misho and I were to be dropped off in Marols for our blabla car to Avignon, and then our friends were driving to Paris to fly to Bulgaria.
It would be a busy morning.
Last night, I thought, looking at the ceiling, hearing those notes playing. I wonder where I'll be tomorrow. What I'll wake up to then.
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