The dust settles

My upstairs neighbor and I went to Old Montréal for lunch yesterday. We left early but even then the old town was already bustling with summer tourists. 

I don't notice people that much anymore and whether they look at me or not is of no consequence which has made things so much better. You simply exist comfortably in your own skin and if I do happen to catch someone's gaze they just note a person calm and happy to be there on a sunny day. 

My neighbor wanted to enter a little gift shop where we were greeted to "hello ladies" in English; the woman assuming we were tourists. As a French person, my neighbor's English is crude to non-existent and she sometimes resents being addressed in it. I, however, have no such issue. 

I then admire the saleswoman's dangly earrings which prompts her to show me the line she sells which greatly resembled them. I declined politely. 

Afterwards a lovely lunch was had in a micro-brewery nestled  inside the Bonsecours market which serves food followed by a cappuccino in the Cafe des Arts. Later, a packed metro and bus ride home on a Friday saw no increase in my blood pressure.

Once at home I couldn't help but note my absolute sense of peace and comfort which has paralleled my slow but sure adaptation into retirement.

The dust continues to settle nicely.