Julie and I are on our way to Cranbrook BC for our friend Dave’s wedding. There are a lot things to be excited about, including not being at work on a Friday, having a 3 day vacation with Julie, Dave getting married, but the thing that I always get a huge kick out of is flying.
Despite the seeming drudgery of waiting in the airport and sitting still in public for long periods of time, flying excites me. To borrow from Louis CK, after all, you are sitting in A CHAIR IN THE SKY!
For all of that amazement, it is moving through the airports that I find amazing. If each person is a thread in the fabric of life, the weave is tightest and brightest in the airport. I am overwhelmed by the infinite number of stories, or at least possible stories, that each person carries.
- The 30 year-old, red-blooded hunter, off tocash in on his moose tag.
- The tired businessman en route to the meeting he could not care less about.
- The thin, grey haired woman on her way to Africa to build schools for the poor.
- The university grad with the backwards cap, heading to visit friends in Fort McMurray, while he contemplates what to do with an English Lit. degree.
- The young family travelling back home to visit a grandparent who probably won’t see their granddaughter
’s next birth day.
I know I don’t know these things, but ultimately, they are true. Across this world, millions of people are bored in airport terminals, watching in-flight movies, and sleeping on undersold flights.
We are travelling. Infinite destinations, infinite purposes, infinite stories. Being infinite, they are baseless, and at the same time an accurate picture of reality.
Like the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, I can know the velocity of that story, but can’t localize the story without its blurring.
All I can do is hop on a horizontal escalator and weave my thread toward the Western shore of this fabric.
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