When I am traveling, I really dislike airports. I wish I was more cool and Zen and what not, and didn’t have these kinds of things bother me, but, the reality is, they do. And so I distract myself, and get slightly anxious and usually eat my emotions. This trip though I decided to take a good look at what the hell this is all about.
And it’s the sadness of humanity that really gets me.
The staff that works in the cafes and food stores are usually all languid and sad, and I wait in lines overhearing staff bitching and customers being brutally rude. So I am using it as an opportunity to be really kind to the staff.
Then there’s the exhaustion, the travellers who are all weary and seem to have lost any will to be polite. So I am trying to smile and be kind and let people ahead of me, instead of sighing and on the inside grimacing when someone steps on my foot for the fourth time.
The security staff seems to move at a snail’s pace, and my bag ALWAYS gets held up for extra security. On the flight from NY to LA, I tried to make conversation with the lady who in an agonisingly slow manner swiped every tea sachet I had in my travel bag for chemical traces, one by one. I brought to my awareness the fact that she has nowhere else to be, it’s only me in a hurry, not her, and I was also grateful for the fact that I love my job when she clearly does not.
Slowly my inner conflict with airports is starting to dissolve. Because all our squeamishness is just nonsense. And we keep buying into the stories we tell ourselves. And it’s time to cut it out. This week, don’t be afraid to take a good long hard look at your shit, air it out, take it for a long walk, and start to work with it on a more conscious level.
Sent with love,