Fleeting (or flying?) Thoughts

As we took off from the impossibly cozy airport and beautiful, green city of Portland, I couldn’t help start singing the song from Peter Pan. The one about flying... Look at me! Here am I, suddenly, without even trying! I’m flying!! The song echoed in my head as we raced down the runway, about to be airborne into the mysterious stillness of the night sky. I felt literally giddy. I wanted to bound up and down the narrow aisles, skipping and smiling and dancing. I wanted to do cartwheels and run a marathon and kiss someone. It was like all these childish emotions and feelings bubbled over into an intoxicating, over-the-top episode of pure delight. The world was wonderful, life was wonderful, everything was just WONDERFUL!

Then, suddenly, we were in the air. We were descending upward as the ground below grew smaller and smaller. Cars became funny props, streets became strands of twinkle lights, fields became patches of ebony. It was like the Peter Pan ride at Disneyland. For all the imagination and wonder going on in my head, we could actually be headed toward Neverland. (Please be warned, I am not on drugs. I’m just very enthusiastic about living).

Sometimes, life just catches up with you. In a good way. It catches up just in time to run with you a little while. You’re going full speed ahead, lunging into the unknown, totally content with the future and ecstatic about what it might bring. Life is just lucky to be along for the ride.

Earlier in the airport, I had another such experience. Everything I wanted to be when I was little, I had basically become. I was this independent, traveled, confident, happy person. I was wearing a baseball hat from California and a thick yellow scarf from New York. My braces had been off for years and I was carrying a laptop. I had a trip planned to Rome for Thanksgiving with my two best friends from High School. Where did this young woman come from? When did I become her? I think I’m still in the process of becoming, but for a moment, I let myself revel in what I had become.

All those years of studying, writing goals, pondering, saving money...they were so worth it. Once in awhile scattered thoughts and sudden realizations cross paths to intersect in a moment of complete self awareness and contentment. Like those modern art installations, some made of scraps of trash, strewn together in a way that most of the time, only the artist gets.

I walked down the hallway to my terminal, thinking about all the people in this airport. All the stories, regrets, romances, accomplishments, and dreams. Airports are special in a sense because everyone is headed somewhere. Everyone, even if it’s only literal, has a destination and is getting to it. I liked that idea of purposefulness, the adventurous yet intentional spirit of it all.

After eating a pumpkin cream cheese muffin from Starbucks while watching an entire episode of Friends in the wrong terminal, I located the correct terminal. (After thinking about how much my mom would freak out about me not being in the right place). I waited patiently, happy to have a texting conversation from a cute boy to keep me company.

And now, here I am. Seating in seat 20D, with a whole row to myself and the whole world at my feet.