Airports

How many of you love to travel? I don’t mean: how many of you like to be on the beach or sight-see in Boston. I mean: how many of you love the process of traveling? The busy airports, the crowded planes, the living out of a suitcase? I must say, I love it.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of catching a connecting flight in Houston’s airport. I say “pleasure,” because while I was walking through the wide corridor, on my way to the gate I realized that it really was great fun for me to be in that airport. Maybe it was because airports are a great place to watch people. There were mothers pushing strollers while daughters and sons hung onto their hems or shirtsleeves. There were business men sporting ties and jackets and pulling carry-ons, incessantly talking on Blackberries or balancing laptops on their knees while they waited for planes. One young man wearing faded fatigues and boots was checking and rechecking his boarding pass… I couldn’t help but wonder. What were their stories?

 Part of the fun may have been the noises. There exists a general din in an airport: children eagerly pleading for ice cream, the sound of suitcase wheels on tile, overhead announcements that may or may not apply to me… There are noises coming from the restaurants: the rattle of plates and pans, bursts of laughter, the blended voices of people telling their stories. Amidst that din may even be an occasional comment from a passerby, directed at me, like “Excuse me,” or “Do you need anything else, ma’am?”

 If the joy I felt was not because of my general love of people-watching or my fascination with the way the lives and conversations of strangers flow in and out of each other, close in proximity but not quite engaged, then it was because of the possibilities that exist in an airport: the wide-eyed joy of a child seeing a new city, a lucrative business deal completed, the reunion of a soldier and his family… These are the times, when I am imagining all of the most delightful outcomes, that I am giddy.

I wonder how many times during our days we allow ourselves to be so much in the moment that we are focused, not on the final destination, but on what we are seeing and feeling during the process. How often do we allow the tasks we must perform (the connecting flights, the navigating of traffic, the taking off of a band-aid) to be our point of joy? What if all it takes to make these tasks a high-point is becoming aware of ourselves in that moment and intentionally imagining the most delightful outcome? Would a mundane trip to the grocery then become a journey through colors of fruits and smells of fresh bakery breads? Would we be elevated to joy just by our imagining what it will be like to take these ingredients home and make a lovely, fresh meal for ourselves, our families, or a new friend?

 Yes, it’s definitely the possibilities that make me giddy. And maybe I don’t have to be half-way across the country in an airport to feel that.

Living In Joy Challenge: What is a task that you do, maybe even dread a little, daily? This week, take one task a day (putting on your make-up, fighting traffic, making copies at work, for example…) and truly experience it. Imagine the possibilities to come from the journey (Who will notice you today? Where are the people in the car next to you going, and might you meet them? How will your copies impact the people who receive them?) Let me know how you do. I’ll be looking forward to your comments. J