I'm meh about travelling. It eats into my routine, bank balance and Netflix time. There I said it.
Take wanderlust and go.
That said, I like airports. Over the last 45 days, I’ve spent 20+ hours in 6 airports. But somehow, I could never bring myself to complain about the opportunity cost(s).
Here are the whys.
The anonymity an airport affords me, in a sea of people who don’t care, is priceless. In the mecca, two bored people might notice when I climb up an escalator, realise midway that I didn’t need to climb up, and eventually climb back down. It’s a #10pointsforGryffindor moment for me of course, knowing it’s not the first time, but neither knows me or cares enough. So, mental hi5!
Now the people, who don’t know me, are a joy to have around because I don’t have to engage in conversations with them. I enjoy observing such people from a strategic distance whilst pretending to listen to music.
People observation helps me come to terms with the fact that it really does take all kinds. And the airport is a perfect showcase of that. You have the bare-bones traveller with sweatpants, the one with sartorial elegance, the boho, the boho’s bushy hair, the busy laptop puncher, the massage chair hogger, the kid with light-up shoes, the tired mom, the angry Beats guy, the native people,etc. And 90% of them will have their faces buried in touchscreens.
So much unity in diversity, it's endearing.
Oh and then, on one of the those “look look, pigs are actually flying today” days, there’ll be a millennial of the opposite gender reading and observing people too. (Ah, hope!)
Besides the people, here’s the main draw for me: When in an airport, you’re somewhere but really nowhere.
Your calendar is allowing for guiltless dissociation from work, home, traffic, over caffeinated Uber drivers, scheduled recreations, difficult conversations, judgements and ablutions. So that allows for liberated hours of noisy slurping, reading, thinking, and sly Photoboothing.
Recently during a 6-hour wait for the next flight, in the haven that is nowhere, I decided to get into a time warp with my journal for the first time in 2 years.
I've been writing since 2007, but have never really re-examined any of my old monologues/dialogues with the cosmos, so I knew I was guaranteed of at least 4 hours' worth of entertainment.
And as expected, I found scribbles on memories, goals and core principles, shower philosophies, 3am anxieties, quotes from books, photos and day planners.
When I chanced upon some pearls of wisdom that I’d shared on a b’day card yeaars back, I couldn’t help but give myself some credit for being consistent with at least some of my principles over the last 4 years.
That said, I realised my life goals have changed. Over time, they have become clearer and more realistic (less ambitious?). So, that’s a good thing?
Yes, no?
#puttingmorequestionsthananswersinmyhead sincetheGodparticlehappenedBut my journal also told me this: For a long time, at least from as far back as my self-reflections took me, my goals have always had egocentric leanings. And that’s an enormous inner battle I decided to save for next year’s first airport waiting area / journal entry.
After the final boarding call was made in 4 different languages and I had my mind back to myself again, I vowed to myself to continue journalling everything. That way, I’ll have enough material not just for posterity and clandestine surveillance programs, but also airport layovers.
Oh, how fun!
And, on a side note, I apply the 80/20 rule to my airport recreation schedule: 80% of the time is spent on reflecting and 20% towards observing other people.
Just saying. In case you wondered.