Walk, stand here, wait. Repeat.
I’m at an airport this morning, waiting to get on another plane so that I can wait some more. In a few hours I will be in LA where I can wait for 4.5 hours to get on another plane so that I can wait some more. Eventually I’ll be in San Francisco so that we can wait until tomorrow where we will wait in line again, this time to get on to a floating mall with entertainment. So much of life seems to be about waiting – waiting for vacation, waiting for Christmas, waiting for retirement, waiting on the world to change (ya I know, but I couldn’t resist).
Growing up I somehow thought that life would move… well… faster. In counseling those with addictions we often talk about how the “normie” world is boring. One of the hardest parts of sobering up for most people is the thought of normalcy, of mundane, of no buffers. Quitting the desire for self-medicating is far harder than quitting the drug itself.
As the story goes, I am finishing this post while waiting at LAX. If you haven’t been here you may not know, but this is one of the worst airports in the world. It lacks color, flavor, or continuity. We had to leave the secure area and walk a kilometer and re-enter with the whole cavity search. So more waiting, then walking, then waiting, then take off your shoes, put your shoes back on, hurry up and wait. I told my father, with whom I am holidaying, that this is the reason, at the end of the trip, that people actually want to get home.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy to be away from the regular grind but the whole “getting there” piece is always more daunting than I remember. I can just hear someone saying, “Enjoy the journey, not just the destination.” It’s a truism that often applies, a little less so at LAX. Nonetheless I am reminded how fortunate I am that this is even possible. So many people I know will never get the opportunities I have had, and often forget to be thankful for. Fewer still would want to spend a couple of weeks with their dad. I am truly blessed.
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