Calgary, take me away…
I’ve been home for weeks now. And yet, today, I’m packing my rollaboard happy wagon full of organic free-trade soy moisturizer not tested on animals and Badger Sleep Balm (addiction alert), all in 3.4 ounce bottles in preparation for my very first trip to Calgary. Whenever I pack for a trip, I’m always reminded of Amelia Earhart’s words, "There is nothing worse than starting a trip! The last moments are earthquake and convulsion and the feeling that you are a snail being pulled of your rock." Yes, earthquake! My kingdom for a pair of matching socks–perhaps they are a victim of plate tectonics, that shifting of planes that swallows things whole. Let’s blame it on that.
But once I get on the plane in my mismatched socks, there is nothing standing between me and my 3×5 cards of obsessive compulsive list-making. Tray table down, cards out, fountain pen out and filled to within an inch of its life so it won’t explode (these things come, sadly, from personal experience). My whole life gets rearranged in neat, lined rectangles. It’s the equivalent of making New Year’s Resolutions in oxygen-deprived air at 37,000 feet–things fall off the table, figuratively speaking, and I become clear about my priorities–and my lacks. I vow to do better, to eat more edamame and fewer Rice Krispie Treats and get to the gym every day and write for two hours a day NO MATTER WHAT. It is easier to plan such simplicity when none of the detritus of daily living surrounds you, I find.
When I travel to give a speech, as this trip involves, I’m reminded of St Francis of Assisi’s phrase that “There is no use in walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching," and so I try to travel in great awareness of the people around me, of not stereotyping them: aggressive businessman, unruly child, mean-spirited or perhaps just overworked flight attendant who needs to take a vacation someplace far away from passengers and tiny liquor bottles and biscoff cookies and peanuts.
"Every individual has a responsibilty to help guide our global family in the right direction," the Dalai Lama has said. "Good wishes are not sufficient, we must be actively engaged. What are you doing for the global heart?" When I am saddened by kissing my girls goodbye before they wake, and cursing the gods of plane scheduling when driving to the airport at 4:30am, and wondering where that sock could be, I think (I hope) that what I am doing is good for the global heart. Someone once said that they chose to live their life in a way in which their work is their joy. I am the closest to that I’ve ever been–this work is my joy–and so these 4am wakeup calls finally have a direction, and an intention, and–hopefully–an outcome.
That’s all to say that I’ll have a three hour layover in the Minneapolis airport tomorrow morning if anyone is up for meeting me for a cup of coffee there. Perhaps you’re traveling too, and our paths will cross, our rollaboards knocking against one another as we scurry to our next gate. Say hi, won’t you?
