See the World Through My Eyes

I hear this often: “I want to see Paris through your eyes, Cynthia.”
What’s it like to move through life as a writer or artist?

Let’s play ‘Being Cynthia Morris’. Come, step in and adopt my perspective. This is how you’d see the world, whether you’re traveling or at home.
Your thoughts are not linear, and they bounce between what you’re going to eat later to what you’re trying to sort out with your latest article, to being captured by anything and everything that’s happening around you.
You notice everything, every color, every noise, every written word, every dog turd and gesture. It may seem like you’re spacing out and not paying attention, but really, you’re feeling, hearing, seeing and smelling everything.
You’re constantly curious, er, nosy. You’re making up stories all the time about people around you. That couple there? First date. That woman inching along the sidewalk? Widowed for 20 years, still misses her husband’s irritating morning cough. Those young women? On holiday from Spain, enjoying Paris for the first time at volume.
The curiosity doesn’t stop at people. Why is that metro stop called Wagram? Why did they call their shop that? What’s behind all these giant, closed doors?

You move back and forth in time. You’re walking down a tiny street in the Marais, peeking into designer clothing shops. The next thing you know, you’re imagining the sound of jackboots on the cobblestones, feeling the fright of a Jewish person out after curfew. Your own memories intertwine with history. You’re constantly fascinated and astounded by layers of time and history.
You’re obsessed with language. Words in English trip through your head, and also French. A word you’d mulled over yesterday suddenly pops in your head, along with the understanding of its origins and pronunciation.
You’re constantly writing in your mind. Ideas for new articles, better ways to express yourself in old articles, a streaming narration of Facebook posts (that you’ll never do) run through your head.
You’re always accompanied by your inner narrator, and heaven forbid you leave the house without a notebook and pen, or you’ll have to stop and buy writing materials to capture everything. (This article came while walking in the Luxembourg gardens.)
Despite the amazing and disheartening news of the day, you’re hopeful and optimistic. You fear your novel may not be good enough, but you’re also optimistic enough to go for it. In fact, you’ve come to relish ventures that challenge you beyond your perceived capabilities and are always looking for ways to grow.
You’re an idea matchmaker, constantly seeking connections. How does X relate to Y? Can you extend the metaphor to align this idea with that idea to make something new and engaging? What if….
You’re positive about people. You see people with kindness, curiosity and respect. You’re blown away by the thought of the millions of people in the world, the variety of experience and the gazillion stories out there being lived, told and shared right this very minute.

You surf a constantly shifting wave of emotions: joy, wonder, sadness, loneliness, frustration, contentment. You’ve come far enough to not cling too much to any one, since you know the next influx of emotion is cresting at the next corner.
You’re a magnet for insights about how you can be a better person, serve others better, enjoy life more. You’re curious about your evolution as a human and about your ever-shifting inner landscape.
You’re still a child in some ways, full of wonder and naiveté. You are willing and able to be stopped in your tracks by something that captures your attention. You can pass cute babies by but dogs will always charm you.
Surprised? Probably not; you’re probably very similar. I’m not saying this is the best way to live, just that it’s my way.
What’s the world like through your eyes? Take a few minutes to jot down your version of the world through your eyes.