Ever since I was a small child I've had an undying love for airports. This is fortunate because I spend an aweful lot of time in them during my bi-annual treks across the country to and from college, but most people think I'm crazy when I tell them this. Maybe you are one of those people. "Airports, are crowded, stuffy, germ-infested places," you say. Stressful, hectic, isolated...yes, yes, I get it, but here me out.
Perhaps it's the growing anticipation if landing in a new exciting place. Or the endless people watching, sleek, shiny architecture and bright, glowy signs everywhere you look. (I grew up in hyper-rural Oregon - most large groups of people, new places and sleek bright glowy things are abnormally exciting to me.) Maybe it's the fact that there are Starbucks (my second-most undying love) scattered less than 5 feet from almost every gate, having been 75 miles away from one most my life. Maybe it's the fact that it's possible to get almost anywhere in the world when standing in front of the departure screen.
Let's be honest. It's probably Starbucks.
Inside an airport, you have a relatively simple task. Get through security. Get to your gate on time. Don't loose stuff, and if you do, try to keep it to minimum. Keep moving forward. You have one destination, and even if you have no goals in life, no idea what they are going to turn out to be or ou just plain can't decide (as is often the case for me) you still have a goal in an airport.
So you finally reach your plane, it's an ungodly hour of the morning, you wish the flight attendant would shut up about the oxygen masks and just bring you coffee, and the lights go dark as the plane prepares to ascend. You look around you at the motley crew of people all as bleary-eyed as you. You all have to turn off your pesky electronic devices and share a brief moment of togetherness as the pilot steers to the runway. And right then, you all want the same thing: you want to land in one place, you want to land in one piece, you hope you will be lifted off the ground, hoping people will be at least mildly pleasant along the way. We can have the same goal for once, we can believe that the woman who know knocked us over as she was running to her next flight has dreams and memories deeper than you will ever know, that what your name is and what you have makes little difference in whether or not you land. All searching for the same deep joy you hope to find in landing, you trust and hope in your arrival, in letting go, and that in flying, aiming, hoping, and living our way to the answers we will find the shiny signs that lead us to our next gate.
Forego all competitive nature and hope together. Then go from there.
And no matter how much you try to avoid it, you usually end up in front of the departure gate once again. Smile, keep walking, and and share your Starbucks muffin with the man next to you while praying you don't get the flu.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen - It is currently 6:04 am in Pasco, Washington and we we are scheduled to arrive in Denver, Colorado at 9:13 mountain time. Here in Pasco we have mostly clear skies but we may encounter fog turbulence as we head east. We won't be sure until we're on our way."
Board the plane. Admire the sunrise out your window. Drink too much coffee. Hope together. Always share your muffins.
Enjoy your flight.
