What happened for me to really start appreciating the simplicity of life? What made me so intentional about looking at sunsets? What made me think so much about their meaning? What made me say “I am happy with my life right now” in a corporate call on a Thursday afternoon?
I will answer the last question straight away – I am sitting in my garden office all day long with a large bowl of cherries next to me, cherries I picked from the cherry tree in my garden this morning, occasionally thinking how beautiful this bowl looks, while emptying it fast because its content is even more delicious than it is beautiful. But this answer then calls for one and the same question – what changed for me to go from not even knowing there was a cherry tree in my garden, to loving my life right now because of it?
I keep going back to one trip that, even though it’s far from being the sole answer, feels like a cornerstone of that happiness. My trip to Thailand, almost two years ago.
I know that Thailand might sound like a generic answer. Not edgy. Not a hidden gem. It’s one of the most visited countries in the world. And yet, two years later, it came up in my mind as life-changing. And a big part of the reason is not really Thailand related. It’s the process. Totally confirming the mantra “trust the process.”
It was the process of choosing and planning my first trip so far away from Europe. The first time I booked long-haul flights. The first time I took more than 5 days off work – 11, to be specific. The first time I arrived somewhere and felt like I was in a completely different world – 30 degrees in January, already noon when at home some people were still awake at night. A language I cannot understand, a script I cannot read, people looking completely different than myself.
The food was things I had only heard of but never really explored before. And I am so grateful I hadn’t – Pad Thai became a staple at home after that. Not just for the flavor. It’s the way it brings back the noise and heat of Bangkok every couple of weeks, years later. The way a dish can carry a feeling across time zones is something I hadn’t understood before Thailand.
But the feeling I go back to most – on a daily basis, even – is tranquility. Not the kind you plan for. The kind that catches you in the smallest moments: a glimpse of something beautiful, warm air on your skin, the weight of ripe cherries in your hand. I unlocked it in Thailand because I allowed myself to fully be part of a different world, to the point that I forgot about the existence of the other one – the one of winter and office days. It was for a split second, but I really forgot about it. It didn’t exist. The only things that truly existed and mattered were the sea, the sunsets, the food, the love. I think that unlocking this feeling is only possible once you are far enough from home and your duties to realize that the world is something much bigger than everyday life – and yet, it all lives inside everyone’s soul.
What changed was this: true happiness lives in very small things that surround us all the time. Things we often need something to happen in order to start seeing. And feeling.
Then a cherry tree will have a whole new meaning.