This Life is Lonely Magic.

 

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.