I have always been quiet. As a kid, my teachers would often warn my parents that I was shy—as if this was an ailment—and suggested that I learn to speak up more in class. I was highly anxious, and the thought of walking to the bathroom alone made my palms sweaty. I was content to spend 90% of the day in my room. Without some coaxing, I don’t think I ever would have left my house.
However, I don’t consider my existence terrible. I think that my demeanor is a superpower.
More times than I care to admit, I realize upon leaving a party that I spoke a total of twenty words. But my lack of vocalization is never because I am bored or uncomfortable. In reality, the less I say, the better time I am having because, in these moments, I get to do one of my favorite things: observe.
I realized from a young age that people say and do the most exciting things when they are given the space to. As a kid, I remember observing people and writing stories in my head about their life, their habits, how they had ended up wherever I found them. Writing imaginary stories of other people’s lives was how I spent the majority of my childhood.
I moved to France in 2016, wide-eyed and firmly convinced that, after spending more than seven years studying the language, I spoke French. It took less than twenty-four hours with my French host family for that theory to be proven false.
“After two weeks in France, you will be fluent!” people told me before I made my move across the ocean. They were wrong. I did, however, perfect my listening skills.
There are a lot of emotions that come with losing your ability to communicate with the people around you. Some of them are incredibly frustrating. (Once I spent forty minutes explaining to my host family mom that we make cookies with molasses in America and asking where I could buy it, only for her to go to the fridge and triumphantly produce mayonnaise.) For the most part, nevertheless, I have been grateful to hone my skills as an observer of human behavior.
All of those years I had spent quietly enjoying and observing the party prepared me well for my new home. I spent most of my first years in France observing. As a writer, especially, I could not have asked for a better source of inspiration. France is known for its cafe culture. It is not uncommon to spend three hours sitting on the terrace, slowly sipping a cappuccino, watching the world pass you by.
One of the essentials of writing is observing. I want what I write to be believable. I want my characters to be people that you would want, for the most part, to be friends with, and the best way to write a believable story is to observe the world around you. I have had the privilege of traveling to many different countries, but, no matter where in the world life takes me, I have learned the most in the moments when I unplug and allow myself to fully be where I am.
I have also found how important it is to lean into a story and how people find me approachable when I do. I have had the most interesting interactions with people in the airport. Almost every time I travel, someone befriends me. Nine times out of ten, they tell me their story. There is something miraculously beautiful about the people we meet along the way. It is such a gift to be trusted with other people’s stories.
I had a conversation with a mom who was moving to Croatia so that her son with asthma could benefit from better air. I had a comedian tell me about his career in Paris. I met a woman who studied in Hawaii but moved to Bali to finally live with her German boyfriend. Countless conversations with people I will most likely never see again, and all of these people have made their way into my writing, consciously or subconsciously.
There is power in stopping and observing the world around us. It is an inspiring place, whether we live in France or rural Washington. I am constantly inspired by my life in France because I have created a life that allows space to be inspired. By sitting and listening to those around me, I have thousands of stories turning in my head, waiting to be told. Stop for a minute today and see the world around you. You might be surprised by the stories that are waiting to be told.
Olivia Swinder is the Communication Coordinator for Young Life in Europe and the author of debut novel, Cynthia Starts a Band (October 2021, Morgan James Fiction). Find more about her and her book here at oliviaswindler.com.
