I don’t know what it is about getting on a plane,
But the moment I step on,
With my passport in hand,
And carry-on lugging behind me,
A sweeping calmness washes over me,
Like a warm blanket enveloping me for the next 12 hours.
Understanding that you’re flying off to a completely new country,
Hundreds of miles away from your family,
Is always so surreal.
Call me a creep, but my favourite thing to do on a plane is people watch.
My senses sharpen on to every rustle of my neighbour,
A baby’s cries, and parent’s frantic hushes,
Yes, even the kicks to the back of my chair are not spared from my analysis.
I begin to imagine the stories of each passenger,
Wondering what brought each of them to this flight on this day, at this time,
Cause of all the people, days, and planes there are in the world,
We so happened to end up on the same flight.
Some call it fate.
For the “Lost” fans like me,
I hope you’ll relate to my curiosity,
Was the disheveled father,
With a baby cradled close to his chest,
Reuniting with his son’s mother?
Or fleeing a past too painful to endure?
These curiosities of mine aren’t limited to plane rides,
But plane rides are the only time I address these questions with every passerby,
Without being distracted.
It’s unfortunate that I need to fly hundreds of miles away from my work
to invest time and consideration in those around me,
That I need the disguise of a tourist to initiate a conversation with strangers,
Or that I need to be outnumbered by different perspectives to open my mind to new opinions
that I wouldn’t normally agree with,
But it’s through these experiences that I grow as an individual,
There’s no textbook that can teach you the stories and experiences
of the strangers you meet through your travels,
I don’t enjoy travelling because of the landmarks I visit, or the food they present me,
It’s the culture and connections to new diverse people that sparks my interest.
Now the question is,
Why must distance spur our growth.
When all that’s needed.