There’s still places to see. I haven’t traveled to Europe, Asia, or Africa. Have a lot more ground to cover.
2. There’s more new foods to try. Along with new places, come new cultures to consume. I’m ready to eat!
3. Someone depends on your smile. May be the least likely person; and your smile does something for them.
4. Your destiny hasn’t been fulfilled yet. Even on the lowest on low days, there’s still an assignment that can only be carried out by you.
5. There’s no one that can do things quite like you. You are really good at making a presentation, teaching, counseling, listening, planning, and making macaroni and cheese. Sure, these things have been done before. But, not quite the way you do them.
6. Each day is full of NEW. We are granted new opportunities, have the chance to try again at something we may have previously failed at. Try again, with more wisdom.
7. The days are not promised to you. We go to bed knowing we will wake up the next day, and the day after that and the day after that. Not always the case. Have to thank God for all the days, even Mondays.
Airports hold a lot of emotion for me. I’ll never forget the opening of the movie Love Actually where the filmmakers capture what looks like real footage of the heartbeat of airports. The flow of “comings” and “goings.” People greeting their families, the infamous run and jump embrace between significant others, tearful goodbye’s or “see ya later’s” to service men and women. The thought of someone being “there” when you land is so comforting. The thought of someone seeing you off at the airport is personal. For a couple of hours while you’re in the air, it’s almost like being suspended in reality. You’re in a new reality entrusted to the hands of qualified pilots.
Mid-air is perfect for reflection. To be disconnected from social media and to be mindful. To let my emotions wander.
To pray that I land safely at a 3 digit airport code. To desire to get in a good amount of reading in but in actuality only read a couple of pages. To think about the awkward closeness and “excuse me” moments I may share with the person sitting next to me. To be empathetic towards the mother with the hollering 2 year old who can’t deal with the pain of the pressure in his ears.
I mediate on my own life. I consider the flights I haven’t taken yet. I think about the people I currently hold close in my life. I think about impermanence. I wonder if those people know how much they mean to me, if I express it enough. While suspended in reality, I tell myself everything is going to work out. I will land, as I’ve done in the past, and I’ll continue to conquer both astounding and agonizing giants in my world.
I will still hope, however, that when I walk outside someone is there sitting in a familiar car, anticipating my coming.