Airplane Confessional

Two movies, thousands of miles up in the atmosphere, and from Seattle, all I can think about is where I‘ve been and where I am going. There is something strange. You know that feeling when you feel like “FINALLY this is it, something big is about to happen” HA, and then you realize that this is really what living is like and what you thought was living was actually wrong programming, bad advice, and fear. That is what I felt when I got up this morning, repacked my bags for a last obsessive hoorah, skipped the coffee, recorded a general goodbye video to post, went to the airport, and jumped on a plane to South Korea.

Ralph Waldo Emerson popped in my head. A quote that has been pinned to the corkboard of my life since adulthood, “The world opens its roads to those who know where they are going.” I took the quote from my corkboard this morning and shoved it in my pocket. Just a piece of yellow paper, folded into four equal quadrants, terrible handwriting, and black ink, but it means more to me than most other things. I don’t need the paper to remember the quote. To me, it’s home - a feeling of security that no place has ever significantly provided. For a long time, probably for always, home will be a feeling not a place.

My yellow paper with Emerson’s words, my leather bound journal, my shoes on my feet, my music in my ears, my ideas, and aspirations – home.

South Korea, Virginia, North Dakota, North Carolina, Florida, New York, Mexico, Hawai’i, Washington – places.

----12 hours later and 5,509 miles west of Seattle.
A girl named Jenn landed at Incheon International Airport.

Here I am.