‘I’ve come to the conclusion that if you want to live an interesting life you have to be prepared to sometimes look like a fool.’
So said my friend Doug the other morning and it’s a line that’s stayed with me ever since.
We’d met in the cafe - and social hub - of the French village I’ve been staying in for the past three weeks.
Meeting friends for an early morning coffee is part of the daily routine here and it’s been one of my favourite things about my stay. I’ve met so many lovely and interesting people at the cafe, and had many rich and life affirming conversations. It really is the perfect start to the day - especially when, like me, you’re living, working and travelling solo.
The other morning we’d been talking about living or staying in a country where you’re not fluent in the native language, and how this can sometimes make you look, or feel (or both!) like a fool.
There were three English speakers at the table, me, Doug and a guy called Tim. Doug and Tim are both American but Doug now lives in France and Tim in Germany.
But all three of us were in agreement that, even though it can be embarrassing trying and often failing to speak a foreign language, it is well worth it.
Doug shared a great story about how, when he first moved to Paris, he’d spied a small local bistro that looked really appealing but seemed like a real locals’ place.
For months he’d walk by, wanting to go in but too afraid that he might make a fool of himself for not being able to speak the lingo.
Finally, he plucked up the courage, went in, sat down, and ordered something he felt certain they’d have, and he knew how to say in French - a green salad, or ‘salade verte’.
But to his horror, his server shook her head and said in no uncertain terms, ‘Non!’
The thing Doug had most been afraid of happening had happened, and he felt like a fool.
His server pointed to the chalkboard by the bar and said: ‘You … have … that!’
It turned out that this bistro was so niche they only served one dish a day - and it was something Doug had never heard of.
But it turned out to be one of the most delicious meals he’d ever had.
Once Doug had got over his initial embarrassment he became a regular patron of the bistro for the thirteen years he lived in Paris, and he experienced some of the very best French cuisine via their always different plat du jour.
He would often go to the restaurant to paint (he’s an artist) and he became close friends with the owners.
But if he hadn’t been prepared to make a fool of himself initially, none of that would have happened, and his time in Paris would have been so much poorer for it.
I’m writing this to you in the village cafe. I’m surrounded by locals all chatting away way too fast for me to understand. It just took me four attempts to order ‘un perrier.’ And three attempts to understand how much I needed to pay. But…
When I got it right and presented exactly the right amount of change, I got a warm cheer from the people at the bar.
Because here’s the thing: most people warm to you if you’re willing to make a fool of yourself because at least you’re trying. Whereas someone who is obsessed with looking too cool for school seems aloof and unapproachable, or even arrogant.
And of course, this doesn’t have to be about trying to speak another language. There are so many situations in life where we risk looking foolish, and often it’s in the pursuit of our dreams.
We don’t want to look foolish on a first date, or at a job interview, or giving a presentation and so we hold back and maybe miss out on something wonderful, like a thirteen year friendship, or truly delicious food.
So this week I have a dare for you: If there’s something you’ve been holding back on because you’re scared of looking like a fool, why not take a risk and just go for it?
And if you need an extra confidence boost, think back to the happiest or most interesting or exciting times in your life. Chances are you overcame the fear of looking silly initially.
My time in France is almost coming to an end (for now) and as I look back on the last couple of months I’m so grateful for the rich and varied experiences I’ve had here, so many of which would never have happened if I’d held back and not risked looking stupid.
Until next week, here’s to finding the courage to pursue our dreams, no matter how foolish we might feel!
Siobhan
Super post! Thank you Siobhan. And what a lovely watercolour from Doug. Loved! This really made me think. I've been busy doing something currently where I do look and feel foolish, for 1hr each week. I've joined a [quite extreme] self-defence school. No beginners' class. You're thrown in at the deep end. Sink or swim. But, 2mth in now and I've met some amazing people. Inspiring. Amazing knowledge and skills and expertise, and I'm learning to defend myself. I struggle for most of the 1hr sessions each week, but I've so far stuck with the struggle! I remind myself of how sick I am of feeling afraid around any threat of violence. I was attacked and seriously assaulted in my teens by an adult man. I overcame my injuries. Non life-changing. But the psychological impact always remained, for years while I was often unaware. I can now feel I'm shaking finally, 20yr on, that psychological impact off. Yes Siobhan!
Love this piece Siobhan. It's inspired me to dig deeper into my own experience. It's an excellent point
You're already travelling. That's already an adventure. So why limit the adventure?
Why go back to a defunct default when there's much to explore. My thing was travelling solo as a senior.
Nonetheless In Banff Canada I decided not to plan, but to take the first shuttle come what may. Wed hurtle off i knew not where. A biggee for me. When we're on an adventure, we've an opportunity to create a new palette, textures, colours rhythms, and explore through the eyes of an uncluttered, openhearted Child. For me an opportunity to let go of my stiff upper lipped Brit, to Channel my inner pioneer. So much still to process and bring back home.
I love your openness. Your inner Madame Curham is wild, as well as passionate a true creative and living the life of her dreams, not to be limited by language when it's the language of the heart that counts.