I love airports, but more so I love watching people and the whole human experience play out in these buildings built for movement and transition.
I love watching a full-grown man make FaceTime or snapchat faces into his phone to a child or wife or mistress on the side…
I love watching new friends become new friends over a burger and a brew without ever exchanging names.
I love watching the business travels unwind, a woman hanging a stiletto from her toe while the heel bounces and her heart races in the presence of a well-dressed man with two hours to kill in flirtation.
I love watching the littles trail behind their parents who carry pillow pets and mini pink plastic backpacks and creased lines on their foreheads.
I love watching the international first-timers, often paralyzed with fear, as their first experience of Americans startle and shock their more simple knowings, and I wonder if they regret the leap of faith they must have taken to cross the waters and land in this land.
I love watching myself open, gaze, settle, surrender into the flow of movement and momentum and only chances as I ask for what I want and put it all on the line with a one-time encounter with a woman I admire or a man I’m instantly infatuated with.
I love watching life unfold within the glass and steel and marble and plastic and invisible technology waves beaming through the air…
I love watching.
Because I love being watched.
I love being a part of the whole.
As I, so very much, am a necessary part of the whole of this crazy beautiful life on earth right now.
So are you.
Come fly with me?
