Back to the Airport

And so we finished in fine fettle, lovely closing, farewell staff lunch, traffic-friendly drive back to SF, an evening unpacking, re-packing, cleaning out the refrigerator and up at 4:30 am for the cab that never came and I switched to Uber (still trying to support cabs, but this was not a happy moment!). Back to the airport that was such a big part of my previous life and feeling some happiness to be on the move again, as I have been fairly constantly the last 30 years or so. My flight actually had free movies on a screen on the seat ahead (yeah!), got to my so familiar O-Hare Airport in time to hop on the next flight and 10 minutes from boarding, the time suddenly jumped to 3 hours ahead—ye ole delayed flight! 

 

Well, I did have some notes to send out to the newly-graduated Level III to complete the loop, so might as well do it in the airport. And so I did and now with the departure continuing to change from 4:15 to 4:30 to 5:15, time to head to the gate and see if it will recede yet further. I could complain, but besides airport delay stories at the top of the list of the most boring (as my daughter constantly reminds me), I’m okay listening to my Audible book, walking a bit, reading a bit, the usual potpourri of ways to pass time before arriving at the place where you hope to be wholly in the center of time. Especially on a wide beach, a cool fresh lake and the grandchildren by my side. After teaching 5 plus hours a day for 10 days, hosting my birthday party on the weekend in-between, getting notes together, meeting with the team, the whole nine yards of the busy, scheduled life with deadlines, expectations, and responsibilities to others, you would think three weeks of laying on a beach as long as I want is the real paradise I’m thirsting for.

 

But not so. The teaching was its own form of deep summer, the sense of being wholly embraced in the center of what a good life can offer. Truth be told, I often get a little restless with the other kind. But eventually acclimate and accommodate to its different pace and possibilities. 

 

Grateful to have both. And now, Traverse City plane, are we ready?