What Is True Anywhere
Tender nights that lull you to sleep are the best.
Prayer. Brush teeth. Bag packed. (leave room for childhood snacks)
Zoe slides a pink scrunchy on my arm because she will miss me while I’m away and knows I will miss her. So I should wear the pink scrunchy—her special pink scrunchy until the plane brings me back.
Uber driver confessions are some of my favorite aspects of traveling. I met my wife’s boyfriend on a ride one day. Excuse me? Nothing. Which airline?
The terminal is like a small temporary village, with phones as homes and luggage in the front yard.
People-watching is my favorite sport. I’m good at it: constructing stories about the person marching to the beat inside their headphones or the woman yelling, driving her heart through a phone, is a calming practice. Today I’m at the airport. Flight delayed. Large groups of overstuffed bags affixed to hopeful & nervous passengers ebb and flow. Flight delayed. Again.
I went to a nightclub once. I was twenty and charmed by friends to dress in something between church & auction. I danced outside the floor until the lights convinced me and the music showed me where to lay down my burdens.
Speaking of stories. I am fascinated by the story of Sir Alfred Mehran, an Iranian man who lived in Terminal 1 at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris for 18 years. I wonder how many stories he heard and saw.
I’m really fucking anxious. No, not about the flight. I’m teaching a writing workshop in St. Louis for someone I respect profoundly and want to believe I’m worthy.
Don’t you think they should find a way to make ‘Basic Economy’ sound prettier? The woman leans over and asks as a declaration. Now boarding the Cheap Skates sounds funnier and easier on the ears, dontcha’ think? I laugh harder than what the joke is worth. I laugh until I smile, and then I take two deep breaths and feel better.
"Human beings are more alike than unalike, and what is true anywhere is true everywhere, yet I encourage travel to as many destinations as possible for the sake of education as well as pleasure."—Maya Angelou.
We’ve landed in St. Louis. I half-listen to the Uber driver as I smile at the tops of the Arch and Union Station, thinking of a younger me surviving and stumbling all over this city. I close my eyes, sink into the backseat, and softly pray.
I listen to Crazyfrog for Miles and touch my cheek, letting the scrunchy rub my face before drifting to sleep.
Everyone is problematic to a cause.
Everyone is a hero to a cause.
water.
With all my heart…Té
