I’m sitting in a small square in the Copenhagen neighborhood of Vesterbro and feeling optimistic about life once again. That’s a marked contrast to me about 30 minutes before I started writing, when I was feeling pretty down. I realize that for all the adventures and experiences that I’ve shared with you on this blog, they’re mostly superficial—barring one or two notable exceptions—and while you know just about everything that I’ve gone through (I truly do not hold back) this isn’t a diary where I tell you how I feel.
Recently, I’ve started to feel emotionally fatigued for the first time basically since before I quit my old job. That was a pretty dark time in my life: despite making a good living in my first year out of college I wasn’t happy with work and the relationship I was in had started to stagnate a bit. The differences between now and then are in many ways night and day, and I’m pursuing a dream I’ve had for years. All things considered, I have a lot to be happy about and certainly know that I’m hardly in a position to complain.
Yet despite my blessings there has been the nagging sense that I’m missing something. I feel like a combination of factors has brought me to this point. I have been away from home for longer than I ever have in my entire life, I miss certain people who I care about a lot, and I’ve begun wondering about what I want to do for work when this is done. That’s how I woke up this morning and asked myself why I wanted to get out of bed today—a ridiculous question when you have the entire world at your feet.
And that’s what brings me to the question of a humble, simple peach. I walked from my hostel down the river into Vesterbro and went into a grocery store to find breakfast. Given my cloudy mood I was in a sensibility-be-damned frame of mind and decided to purchase a meatloaf sandwich (in my defense it was already 11 AM—let’s just agree that I was brunch shopping). I also bought a peach. I took my meal over to the square and sat down to eat, mulling over why I was feeling depressed.
I was hungry and the meatloaf was gone quickly, leaving me with the peach for dessert. The first bite was explosive and much sweeter than I expected an imported peach to be, and it took me back nine months to a small grove of peach trees outside of the French town of Saint Astier. The walk that day on the Camino was quite hilly and I was famished as I made my final approach to Saint Astier. Like a Biblical apparition, the trees beckoned with luscious fruit perfectly ripe and ready to eat. I devoured something like 10 peaches before pulling myself away.
In Copenhagen with peach in hand, the memory reminded me of an epiphany I had on the Camino: happiness is now. You don’t have to go looking for it or expect to find it in the future when it’s been right in front of you the whole time. It’s normal to have self-doubt and question yourself, and it’s normal to feel homesick and miss the people you love. Maybe we all need to sit down every once in a while, munch on a peach, and remember such basic truths about life.
Does this make sense to you? I can’t be alone in feeling this way, can I? Maybe you’ve had a similar revelation–if so, please share it! If you’re new here and like what you see, you can subscribe for free by clicking the “Follow!” button up there on the right side of your screen. Thanks for stopping by!