Flying east
I write something like this every time I fly somewhere alone. What is it about air flights that makes me feel untethered from myself, in a liminal state between possibilities? I need these flights to shake me loose from my patterns and rituals. It is as if I am traveling into a mythic, unknown challenge, even though my true destination is a conference.
It is so easy to choose safe routines over change, repetitive comfort over challenges, and new ideas. And yet there is a part of me that craves a taste of wildness, something challenging that helps me grow stronger and more courageous. Something that helps me remember what lies, sleeping, deep inside me. I am still that young girl who ran into the unknown against the demands of my family.
At times I need to leave the solid rocks behind to see the vision of a unique future, to break the old beliefs that restrain me. And that is what a journey through the sky seems to open in me. At times accompanied by tears that drift into the clouds, at times laughter that hides behind a smile. Sometimes both.
So I am going to see the next few days through the eyes of an adventuress, experience every meeting and serendipitous moment as a metaphor for my future to be interpreted on the flight home. Stay tuned
Flying West
Did I mention that the plane headed east was an hour late? This seemed to be a repeating theme over the next few days. But first, I had to get to the hotel.
When I landed in Atlanta, it was full dark, and I needed to head across this city I did not know to a hotel I had never seen, alone. I prayed that I would find safe transport. While I usually take a ride share (Lyft or Uber) I was hesitant to join the queue, and was drawn to the line of taxis. An older man from India lifted my bag into his immaculately clean car and welcomed me into his cab.
And then the mythic adventure began. He talked about how we are all exactly in the right moment and place, with the people we are destined to meet. He spoke about G-d listening to us and meaningfully connecting us. He even spoke about how safely he drives, saying there is no need to rush, because we have all the time we need if we are present in the moment.
I held those thoughts close throughout the next several days at the conference, choosing to view the days through the eyes of wildness. So when my session was moved and changed and rescheduled, lengthened, and then shortened, I decided there were messages in each change, drawing me deeper into my adventure. It too was delayed an hour. Each person I met, each conversation I had, became a gateway, an invitation to something greater. And I felt that doorway open for others as I went through my session.
And then my flight home was delayed an hour (interesting pattern) giving me the chance to take the train to the airport rather than calling a ride-share, which was another adventure. This flight was rough, with the plane dancing in the sky, buffeted by turbulence, updrafts, and thunder snow, challenging me to believe that I am safe in the arms of the wild winds.
There and back again, I was able to remember that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, with the people I was supposed to be with. And I had all the time I needed, all the time in the world. Was the trip mythic, or am I? Is this the start of a new heroine’s journey, or did I just pick up where I set the last one down? Is it possible to change in such a short amount of time? Perhaps the answers lie, where they always do, in the voice of the sea.
To be continued.