I picked up a book five years ago titled, The French Art Of Not Trying Too Hard. A month prior I finished a book, How To Be Parisian Wherever You Are, to no surprise of my own. On paper (no pun intended) one might assume that I have an identity crisis to become French. Truthfully, I am hypnotized by the European disposition. The country isn’t as important as the mindset the continent values. Months leading up to a scholarship trip to Copenhagen to work at noma for two weeks I read the book, The Year of Living Danishly. Helen Russell, the author and native Brit, discusses her move to rural Denmark with her partner's new job at Lego. Every trip to Europe feels more like homework than a vacanza. I love the way Parisians walk, their heads often in the clouds but intentionally moving with purpose almost guided by their values. Cyclists in Denmark have a profound sense of awareness and look as if they’re enjoying each thrust with every pedal. In the UK disagreements in conversation never take a nasty turn, they’d rather occupy a sliver of peace than to pollute the air with vitriol. In Amsterdam, the heightened communication of directness is an alarmingly easier way to communicate because emotion never rules. Italians, well, I don’t think I need to make a case due to their internationally known relaxed demeanor. When I have moments of introspection, I realign myself with attempts to live in a more “European” manner.
In The French Art Of Not Trying Too Hard, Ollivier Pourriol writes about Yannick Noah’s experience winning Roland Garros. Ollivier masks the excellence around the popular french colloquialism, “a certain ‘je ne sais quoi.’” The take away from French culture is the coolness of wanting something and being okay if it happens or not. Ollivier argues, what could be less seductive than someone trying to seduce you. The American mentality of kicking, screaming and clawing your way towards your dreams simply has no return on investment with the temporary feeling of getting it only to be disappointed that you don’t feel changed. Ollivier suggests that achievement, as decorated as you want it to be, has no substance. Internally there's still a void, a black hole if you will, pulling you down no matter how much you accomplish. When Yannick’s tennis career didn’t flourish post his Roland Garros victory, he was quoted, “After winning Roland Garros, I didn’t have any other dreams I wanted in tennis.” I admire the security of knowing when enough is enough.
In How To Be Parisian Wherever You Are, the quartet of authors compounded a set of rules as a baseline for unfussy joyful living. Some of the examples are fatuous like, before you're thirty find your ideal parfum, if you wear one sweater make sure it's cashmere, go to a cinema or concert or theater as much as you can. On a deeper less daft level there are great takeaways too. Chasing perfection is a fool's errand. Life itself is beautifully imperfect and embracing it provides homeostasis opposed to trying to control it. The book commands that you let your opinions be heard but be open to conflicting beliefs. I empathize with the people of France when they were outraged by the increase of the retirement age from 62 to 64. France, as a country, chooses life over work. For most French people, the meaning of life isn’t derived from their career but from how well they lived. Pleasure and beauty are essential elements to navigating a meaningful existence. Having to work for two more years surely impacts the quest to finally relax resting career aside to focus on joy.
Helen Russell’s book, The Year Of Living Danishly, was my bible and case study for wanting to move abroad. I thought after working at noma for two weeks I would secure a hold on employment until I was ready to make the move. What Helen wrote in the book was her own discovery of adopting a new culture as her own, but not in a cringe way. She embraced one of Denmark’s greatest international acknowledgments, being happy. Socialist Denmark is infamous for their high tax rate. However, most Danes are happy to pay it forward (literally) because of the increased comfort in the benefits they receive. Competitive paid leave, world class maternity/paternity leave, fair hours, great healthcare and access to resources that most other countries charge for unfairly. A Danish home is a sanctuary and if you don’t believe me, well Denmark is one of the leading countries for sales of candles. Imagine being lit by candles on a nightly basis, how chic. Simplicity is refinement in Danish culture. A “less is more” approach is a tradeoff to leading a fulfilling existence. Flagged as “minimalism,” sure, but how about an adjustment in vocabulary? With an economy and epidemic of loneliness in America, perhaps we’ve muddied the waters with things rather than genuine substance. A hearty laugh, a long hang, play for the sake of play, a nourishing meal, a hot beverage, a cold glass of something are serums of the simple and yet highly undervalued.
In one of my late night YouTube rabbit holes the algorithm fed me a data driven study of the effectiveness of the Dutch. Clear, accessible communication with unfussy feelings gets things done. The Dutch are masters in efficiency and being unbothered. A general rule of thumb, “if somethings not working, fix it, don’t ignore it.” Here in America, we are far too hopeful that things will naturally take care of themselves. No one needs to ride in on a stallion to save the day, but if there's unrest, finish the task and carry on. I’m certainly not a beacon of light with a complete “how to” on living, but at work I will state my opinion on something so I’m able to move onward. I loved the book Emotional Agility by Susan David, a Harvard professor specializing in psychology. There's a thread that connects the Dutch mindset with the thesis of her book. Emotions are just that, emotions. They shouldn’t take over one’s values or complicate matters. I love how all of the European countries have similar guiding principles. No one group of individuals is perfect. Chasing substance in things or extraneous factors is ephemeral. Europeans get some things right and that holds true. Right now, more than ever, I believe we have something to learn from each other.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to CHEZ CHEZ ROBERT to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.