I have a controversial statement to make. I realize that my views will be shared by few but hope you will look beyond our differences to see the things we still have in common in an effort to maintain our relationship.
I enjoy being in airports.
When I walked through the doors to this airport a few hours ago, I felt something few rarely do in this place. I felt excited and energized. It was like a child walking onto a playground. I knew it would be filled with adventures and excitement, with the possibility of bumps and bruises along the way that I am willing to acquire.
I have grown up loving to travel and loving flying. It’s the path to going somewhere new and where journeys start. I love every part of this process. I love the exhilaration of take-off. I love a field of yellow city lights out my window in the dark. I love sunrise and sunset out on the horizon. I love the moment when we touch down on the runway. And I love being in an airport anticipating those moments.
I enjoy people-watching, and this is one of the best places to do so being in close physical space with strangers. Travel usually carries a story with it. Sometimes you can see people’s stories all over their surface, like the excitement of a friends’ reunion or a child’s first flight, or the pain of a young girl sniffling as she looks out the window. Some stories are deeper below the surface and the stoicism on faces makes them hard to read.
As strange as it sounds to some, airports are part of the good around me. They are full of people who are going places. Some are going somewhere new to experience a different culture. Or even just a change in scenery. Some are returning to a familiar place, maybe to strengthen ties with friends and family or to repair a broken path. Some are going to learn new things, serve in new places, or investigate new opportunities. So, the next time you are in an airport, take a moment to appreciate the privilege of going places.