Pre-packing.
Pre-reading
Pre-worrying.
Pre-missing.
Pre-departure.
In what a matter of a few short days, I will be stepping on an airplane. This is nothing new, I feel like I spend a lot of time in airports and on airplanes. Flying between my childhood home of Phoenix and my college home of Washington. Flying to familiar places around the U.S. Flying to Argentina, to China, to Italy. Flying comes naturally to me. Packing the suitcase, picking up the carry on, removing my shoes and small bottles of liquids for the x-ray machine. It's all normal. It's all so very second nature.
And so here I stand. Scared out of my mind. Nervous to step on that plane, but knowing that my strong-willed feet will carry me forward without a backwards glance. Knowing that any fears of leaving the life I know will drop away the minute the plane hits the tarmac in Geneva. Knowing that hesitation so easily becomes excitement in a second. Knowing that my friends and family will be a world away and a heartbeat away.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that on the 24th, my mixed feelings (Maryn 1: "I don't want this golden summer to end!" Maryn 2: "What is life without adventure? Man up, Johnston.") won't matter any more and will probably resolve. As much as I'm scared to leave this moment, I'm ready for the next one. And as soon as my feet carry me through the airport and onto that plane, nothing but the adventure will matter. All the "pre" will fade away as past and future become present.
Bring it on. I'm ready to fly away.
.
"Do what you love. Know your own bone; gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw it still."--Henry David Thoreau
ReplyDeleteTo my friend who refuses to live in anything constant, there is much to be learned from you. I admire who you are and who you are yet to be. I'm sending my love through Fed-Ex Overnight, hugs and kisses should be waiting for you when you wake up.