This fleeting, glorious, gutting, blissful, visceral life is
lonely magic.
I’ve been traveling more lately for work, like I used to,
which means spending much more time inside my head. It’s a very different place than it was the
last time we met like this. I think weeks like this one are when I used to write,
when I was traipsing all of the country just fostering an the voices in my head. All that is to say, for the past year, I’ve
wanted to start writing again but, candidly, I haven’t felt like I’ve had
anything to say. The world seems too
overwhelming to condense to words on a page most of the time. Alas, here we are 30,000 feet in the air,
bathed in moonlight, drowned in white noise – you, me and a rusty inner
monologue.
I’m on this plane, and I’m thinking about the week that I’ve
had. It’s only Thursday by the way – at least according to the last time zone I
was in. I’m chasing what’s left of today
backwards across the states). In the
past 7 days, I have been to Chicago, home, southern Utah, home, Dallas and San
Antonio. I’ve had to really do some deep
soul searching about my career and how I want to show up each day. I surprised myself. I’ve had some incredible conversations with
Emerson about life and the future. I’ve
giggled until I’ve wept. I’ve fallen
madly in love with Hunter after having been away for too long. I’ve searched
that same aforementioned enigmatic soul for how I want to show up for my
personal priorities, which it turns out, are sometimes not directly correlated
to the things that bring me the most obvious joy and gratification. (Rude.)
I’ve made a new friend. I’ve had a
political discussion with someone I don’t know very well and with whom I don’t
agree (and it was delightful). I have borne witness to a grief and loss so vast
it far surpasses anything the human experience could contain or
comprehend. I’ve watched people (so many
people) move through their lives as they travel across the country often
helping each other… sometimes hurting each other… and I’m just astounded at
this life we’re living. Life is singular
here, because god knows we are so very intertwined and entangled with this one
shared experience.
I’m thinking about all of this witness I’ve been bearing and
what I’m seeing and I think I’ve landed on my reason for writing. We’re lonely.
We’re sprinting through life and we’re not making eye contact and we’ve
cancelled our voices along with the rest of the noise. We’re all just
desperately needing to get somewhere that is not here.
There was this woman on the plane tonight. She was foreign, so beautiful and so
chaotic. As we were boarding, she had a
baby and a toddler and her mother traveling with her. Somehow, she didn’t have a seat so she kept
just posting up in random seats waiting to see what was going to turn up empty.
With her arms full of toddler, she started just passing her bags around to
strangers boarding the plane and asking them to stow them away for her. Bag, after bag she shoved in
people’s faces and smiled and damn, if they didn’t all smile back, take the bags and make
sure they were safely put away. Then
she up and shoved the toddler in some random middle age man’s arms while she
searched for her boarding pass. Can I
tell you, THE MAN WAS THRILLED (the toddler less so)! One minute, he's holding a briefcase,
the next minute a sticky, drippy 18 month old. Ultimately,
she was in 6 different people’s seats before she finally settled. Pure. Boarding. Chaos. and NO ONE GOT
ANGRY. Eventually, we banded together,
moved around, and figured it out so she could sit with her family. What was striking about this, was how completely
relaxed she was as she created a cyclone of necessary kindness. There was no profuse apologizing or
shrinking. She took up space and assumed
people would want to help, hit them with a staggering smile and low and behold,
we all got in line.
I think we’re lonely.
I think we’re all just waiting from someone to shove something precious
into our arms without asking, meet us with a smile and assume the very best
from us. Thanks for keeping me company. We'll catch up again next time it's wheels up.
