It’s hard for me to pinpoint when my love affair with the old country began. It might have been in my blood and trickled down from my Eastern European relatives who left what is now known as Bosnia. I see traces of my love of Europe from kindred spirits with America’s “lost generation” writers who found solace and inspiration in Paris in the 20’s. How can you blame them? But then, my love solidified into a full fledged affair when my feet first hit Paris and every time I am able to visit any part of Europe, my love deepens.
What is the draw? Is it the history oozing from each magnificent street and corner? Yes, of course. Is it the century upon century of style and beauty? Absolutely. Life is an art there and Europe taught me beauty in living. It was the ultimate lesson in living in the present only the present moment was not just an existence but a beautiful experience. Europe for me is also incredibly grounding. This is something I’ve always needed and craved. Perhaps my head tends to dwell in the clouds and remaining grounded is a challenge. Nevertheless, when I walk past castles built thousands of years ago, and I can traverse the same roads people walked for generation upon generation, I feel in step with my fellow mankind and I feel that everything will be okay. This same castle stood the test of wars, famines, people’s schemes, various changes in power, and yet, it remains. My daily travails find their place and seem not so big and I and brought back to earth and I can breathe easily.