From Solo in Paris to Surrounded by Community: The Power of Showing Up
On my third solo trip to Paris, I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to visit this time—I was going to live in the city. Not permanently (yet), but I wanted to experience Paris in a way that felt more like everyday life and less like a whirlwind tourist itinerary. And most importantly? I wanted to connect with people—real, meaningful, human connection.
Easier said than done.
I searched high and low for something that fit—something social, interesting, and not just another museum tour. And then, finally, after endless scrolling through event listings (which, honestly, felt a little like an online used car sales lot – everyone vying for your attention with something shiny over here and but wait, there’s more over there), I stumbled across an event called Creative Mornings. It was lecture series (that just happened to be in English this month) being held at a coffee shop in Montmartre, and this month’s speaker? A figure skater.
Now, do I figure skate? Absolutely not. But did I religiously watch the Winter Olympics growing up? Yes. Did I drive into Anchorage as a kid to watch professional figure skaters perform? Also yes. So, in a way, this felt oddly perfect. I signed up immediately—excited, hopeful, ready.
And then… the fear kicked in.
When the morning arrived, I woke up feeling anxious. My body wanted to stay in bed. My brain started listing all the reasons why I should just skip it:
❌ “You’re too tired.” (Okay, I really was super tired.)
❌ “It’s too early.” (Nothing is really THAT early in Paris.)
❌ “You don’t know anyone there.” (Virtually guaranteed since I’m in a foreign city.)
❌ “What if it’s awkward?” (It will for sure be.)
And so, I listened. I stayed in bed. I scrolled my phone. And before I knew it, it was too late.
Or so I thought.
Because then my gut—my actual intuition—started whispering:
“You’re going to regret not going.”
That thought hit me hard. I checked the time. The event started at 8:00 AM. There was technically no way I’d make it. But then I did the mental math:
✔ It was a 30-minute metro ride.
✔ If I got out of bed now, I could be there by 8:15.
✔ And let’s be real… the French run late anyway.
Aaand GO.
The Mad Dash to Montmartre (But oooh that Boulangerie is Calling Me)
I flew through my morning routine, practically sprinted out the door, and found myself weaving through the cobblestone streets of Montmartre—adrenaline pumping, nerves high.
But then—a boulangerie.
A wave of buttery, flaky goodness hit me. And you know what soothes anxiety? A fresh croissant. And pain au chocolat. There was no need to choose between the two. Both is always the answer.
So, I ducked in, grabbed my pastries, and continued up the hill—fully prepared to pretend I wasn’t out of breath when I walked in.
Walking into the Unknown
When I finally stepped into the coffee shop, I braced for that awkward I’m-new-here moment. But instead?
I saw a small group of people gathering, sipping coffee, chatting, laughing. The event didn’t even technically start until 9:00 AM. That hour between 8 and 9? Pure mingling time. Perfect.
I grabbed my coffee, found a seat, and before I knew it, I was deep in conversation with people from all over the world—travelers, expats, business professionals from Australia, a writer from New York, an artist from Japan. It was exactly what I had been searching for.
I flew through my morning routine, practically sprinted out the door, and found myself weaving through the cobblestone streets of Montmartre—adrenaline pumping, nerves high.
But then—a boulangerie.
A wave of buttery, flaky goodness hit me. And you know what soothes anxiety? A fresh croissant. And pain au chocolat. There was no need to choose between the two. Both are always the answer.
So, I ducked in, grabbed my pastries, and continued up the hill—fully prepared to pretend I wasn’t out of breath when I walked in.
When I finally stepped into the coffee shop, I braced for that awkward I’m-new-here moment. But instead?
I saw a small group of people gathering, sipping coffee, chatting, laughing. The event didn’t even technically start until 9:00 AM. That hour between 8 and 9? Pure mingling time. Perfect.
I grabbed my coffee, found a seat, and before I knew it, I was deep in conversation with people from all over the world—travelers, expats, business professionals from Australia, a crafter from Illinois, a cultural policy director from Instanbul. It was exactly what I had been searching for.
The Universe, Apparently, Had a Plan
As I sat there, I learned that Creative Mornings wasn’t just a Paris thing—it was a global thing. There are about 250 chapters worldwide.
Wait. What?!
I immediately pulled out my phone, searched for a chapter in Phoenix (where I was living at the time), and saw that their next event was that very Friday.
At that moment, I knew—I had to go
The Phoenix event had a completely different vibe—same theme, new speaker, new energy. The speaker was a jazz musician, sharing his story about patterns. And as a bonus? Live music. On a Friday morning. Perfection.
One of the coolest parts of these events? 30-second community spotlights—where anyone can share what they’re working on, what they need, or what they want to give. One woman stood up and talked about her photography project on adults with ADHD (www.mayihaveyourattention.com).
Something in me clicked and I knew that was a project I wanted to be involved in.
And then, at the end of the event, the organizer announced that they were looking for volunteers. Without even thinking, I signed up on the spot.
Fast forward almost a year, and I’m now the lead for day-of operations for Creative Mornings Phoenix. The same community I almost skipped that morning in Paris became one of the most meaningful parts of my life.
The Power of One Small Decision, For the Love of Croissants
I think about this a lot.
What if I had stayed in bed that morning?
What if I had let fear win?
What if I had told myself, “Next time.”?
Going to that one event in Paris led me to an entire community in Phoenix—and honestly, all over the world.
And that’s the thing about connection.
It’s not always about knowing exactly where to look. It’s about saying yes when the opportunity presents itself. It’s about showing up—even when you’re scared. It’s about trusting that the right people, the right spaces, and the right communities are out there—waiting for you.
So if you’re craving connection, pay attention to what’s pulling at you. Take the chance. Sign up for the thing. Walk into the room. You never know what one small decision might lead to.
And, for the love of croissants, always leave room for a boulangerie stop along the way.
Bisous,
Heidi
