Monday, June 9, 2008
Touch and Go.
I find myself slouching down in a brown, semi comfy, leather, chair at Sky Harbor Airport. Every several minutes or so my thoughts are interrupted by a muffled announcement over the loudspeaker about TSA regulations. Other than that, it's quiet and I'm starting to feel that dinner time is near. The baggage claim carousels sit as empty as my stomach; the walkways are still and the restaurants and bars abandoned save that of a janitor sweeping the floors. But things will soon change as the next set of planes land... a rush of weary travelers, wheeling heavy luggage will bring this place again to life, and signs will light up, workers will run around and it will feel like a carnival...and then again it will sit
I'm here to pick up a friend who will be flying in from Houston in about an hour. I arrived here early in an attempt to avoid rush hour traffic. But I really don't mind the wait. Airports top my list of places I like to be. I know it's a bit odd, but they make me feel things... I've been this way since I was a child... And some of my fondest memories were in one way or another related to them...
They also make me feel really alone...
In a recent conversation, Elliot shared with me that he found himself to be a "touch and go" person. And I think what he meant by that was that he doesn't really feel like he belongs anywhere, not deeply. By jumping around and not sticking around long enough or often enough he avoids growing roots. And he wasn't talking about geography, necessarily.
I think Airports are very "touch and go." Transitory is a good word for it.
People filter through airports, they don't plan a stay (at least not normally). And though I've met some neat people and held some great conversations over the years in airports, there has always been an entirely unspoken, but mutual understanding that our relationship would last only the length of a flight or layover.
And I think life has been a lot like this for me lately... "touch and go."
We all want to feel rooted somewhere, not imprisoned or chained, but connected to something or someone or else we're just floating along aimlessly. But then again I have started to think that what I am looking for, the type of interconnectedness that I long for to this world, to existence and with other people doesn't actually exist. I mean not for the interim. And I like thinking of life as the interim. A lot of people won't agree with this idea, I'm sure, but I'm not trying to convince anybody. If this life is wonderfully fulfilling for you, then more power to you. I'm just saying that I honestly don't feel that way...
Life to me is an airport, an interim and I'm not denying there is goodness and joy and beauty in it... but it's all very imperfect...like an imperfect version of the deepest longings of my soul. Like a "poor reflection."
10 J at 3:57 PM