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On a recent afternoon, I gazed out the window at the woods beyond my home, transformed by the technicolor filter of autumn.  Brilliant late-day sunshine punctured the canopy of red, green, and yellow leaves while birds perched on low-lying branches chirped incessantly upbeat tunes.  I wrapped my hands around a mug of over-priced tea, felt the contentment that comes from knowing all of your basic needs are being met, and suddenly realized  that, despite my many blessings, I was not happy.   With crystalline clarity, I realized I had been zealously pursuing external happiness, hedonistic delights, for years, but was still lacking internal happiness.  The sort of happiness that brings peace, balance, self-acceptance, and contentment. I decided to embark on a Happiness Project , one year of intensive self-analyzing, goal setting, and stretching to achieve a greater sense of self and a deeper level of i...

map-generator.net Each time I finish watching a scary movie, I run around the house flipping on the lights, one by one, until I am sure there are no ghosts or bogeyman lurking in the shadowy corners.  And then I turn on happy, upbeat music, like 80s Pop .  It's a ridiculous ritual.  Childish, really.  And yet, I can't seem to break myself of it.  It's as if my soul, heavy from witnessing the darker side of human nature, craves the light. I felt the same way after my M acabre Day in Paris .  Standing over graves, touring subterranean tombs, and learning about serial killers with freaky fetishes had plunged me deep into the darkest recesses of Parisian history.  I wanted to climb up and into the light. So, Sunday morning I found myself sipping tea at a historic cafe in Montmartre, watching curbside artists create mini-masterpieces, and climbing up 225 steps to reach the top of the dome of S...

map-generator.net If individual travel days needed to be summed up using a single word, my third day in Paris would be described as Macabre . First Stop:  Cimetière du Montparnasse Statue in Montparnasse Cemetery by Christopher Levy I started my morning off with a brisk, but purposeful stroll through the Montparnasse Cemetery.  I confess, I rather enjoy visiting historic cemeteries.  I experience a macabre delight when gazing at the creepy faces of the statues guarding the mausoleums or when reading the more unusual names listed on the tombstones.  I even keep a list of names I like:  Verity Noble.  Gastone de Montague.  Desire Perineaux.  Ida Mae Butterfield.  Victoire Hope Wintingue.  This morning, however, I was on a mission that involved more than the reconaissance of unsual names. Built in the early 19th century, Montparnasse has become the eternal resting pla...