Airports mean I’m going somewhere.
Even if the destination isn’t exciting, and sometimes that’s the case for work or a speaking engagement, I’m still going SOMEWHERE.
This was always something I loved. But five years ago when I started working from home (and I’ve had four different homes since then!) getting AWAY from my desk is a joy to me.
Since “EXPLORATION” has been our word these last two weeks. I take time in this week’s video (and the most recent post) to talk about exploring and unpacking the baggage from our past.
But today, as I sit enjoying tuna poke and looking out over a feast of people, I’m relishing airports and the anticipation of exploration.
This particular flight is out of Tampa, because through the Sarasota/Bradenton (SRQ) airport is growing in stature, sometimes it just makes sense to Uber for an hour to fly out of Tampa.
It’s a quick trip – two cities in two days, so no checked baggage is needed.
For the next 1.5 hours until my flight boards, I am not required to do anything… but wait.
Oh, I eat. And yes, I people watch! When the flight is delayed (or a layover is long), I get a neck/back massage. Or shop.
This may surprise you, but I am rarely chatty. I dig being alone! Only those magical, serendipitous, “Wow, the universe set this up!” encounters compel me to engage.
Oh, airports are ME time.
And writing time.
There’s nothing I love more than hearing the drone of public address system announcements behind me and the chatter of passersby while I type type type type type on my laptop.
Sometimes I look up and wonder about the stories around me.
I say a prayer for the haggard mom handling three kids while rolling three carry-ons. And marvel at the makeup-less beauty of youth in sweat pants as she waits, completely unaware of the stares that follow her. Ear pods block out her attention to the world she attracts.
Airports are both a beginning and an ending (depending on if you’re coming or going.)
Before we leave, we anticipate. When we prepare for our return, we reminisce.
Mark knows I like to explore airports, so he’s fine with relaxing while I wander around and grab those last-minute souvenirs. He is unfailingly interested in my conquests and observations, which makes me love him more.
And the times when I am not with him, I make sure to leave little post-it notes of love around the house. He knows I love taking off – with or without him. (Though with him is better.) But I never want him to think that life is better without him.
Oh, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
This was supposed to be a post about airports.
But instead, I am in love. With a sweet man who cares about my every need. Who will not let me carry the groceries from the car to the house.
My me time in the airport has caused my heart to swell with appreciation for a man who loves me.
I am loved.
And for the first time in 56 years, I am settled into this feeling of bliss.
Which makes leaving, and coming home again, so wonderful.
I love having a life I don’t need to escape. Yet a life that gives me all the freedom in the world to explore.
So yes, I love airports. But I love Mark Roach more.
This is such an appropriate new Word of the Weeks for me. Can’t wait to talk to you more about it! Until then,
Boatloads of love