I have never been very good at transitions, which is a trait that I’m not proud of. I’m working on it, but for now I don’t like moving from one place to another. I love new places, I can be happy almost anywhere I find myself once myself is in a new place… but the actual physical and emotional process of extricating myself from one system to another? I suck at it. I can never find my stuff, I forget things… my stuff never fits in my bags and is always exploding… usually in a yarn like fashion – right out of my purse(s) and to make the whole thing as graceful as possible, the addition of luggage takes my always bumbling, toe stubbing, item dropping self into a whole other level of lurching through airports and cabs with all the agility of a three legged drunken donkey with a balance problem. (Really. My ability to locate a solid object and run into it with either an item in my care or a part of my body is legendary.) That’s just the physical. The emotional part of transitioning is something I’m not good at either. Take now. I’m sitting in the Vancouver airport, having come off a plane from Seattle, and heading for Toronto, and all I can think of is that I really, really miss Tina and can’t believe I won’t be at the beach working with her for a long time again and deeply regretting that this time has come to an end – and then in the exact same breath really, really looking forward to seeing Joe and the girls because I miss them, and I miss my own bed and all my stuff, and hell. I even missed my little cat the other day and she’s a huge pain in the arse. When I am home I will be missing the heron every day, and there’s really something to be said for working a 14 hour day without interruption, and I didn’t have to do laundry while I was there… but I sort of miss my washing machine. It’s a nice one. Also, I like the way food tastes at home ….. and I love all the alone time when I’m away, but I’m a little lonely for my family.
All of this together is a rather long way of saying that for about sixteen reasons, I am not someone who slides through a journey to or from somewhere with ease. I’m discombobulated the whole way, in every way. As a consequence, I’ve learned to handle layovers really really delicately. I think of them as a bridge from one state of being to the other. I let go of one place, look forward to the next, say my goodbyes to one set and be happy about the next. To make that happen in a spiritual, beautiful, engaging way, I have finally compiled three items that can make it all come together.
No problem. 10 minutes till boarding. See you on the other side.