Flights of fancy and ordinary presents... Excerpt from December 2010 Newsletter

Just over a week ago I was sitting in the Chicago airport, tired, back aching, stomach churning – strong coffee at 3 a.m. will do that – watching with slightly puffy eyes the hustling and grumbling of hundreds of absolutely ordinary people moving with narrowly focused attention toward someone or something in the distance. We sat encompassed by our own small cell of importance, heading for Florida. We were thinking about us. They were thinking about them. And yet, in airports, like banks, or during jury duty, we gleam that our little islands of awareness are no different than that of the guy with the mustache who's pushing his way to the front of the boarding line. It’s very likely that he, like us, is pondering bills that are due, what he didn't get done before rushing off or anxious about the family he's about to see. He's maybe worrying that his mustache is out of style and thinks he should probably have gone with the goatee. Is his deodorant is working? Not today! Like us, he's at the center of everything.

In my movie - the one where I am the superstar - I start to think about how I love January 1st. I jump suddenly past the next 2 weeks. Reveling in the anticipation of the freshness of the New year, I also realize that just about now my head feels like it's going to explode. I am all together a little twitchy: Worried about closing up the books for the year and the coming of taxes; Cookies for Friday; A trip to the city on Saturday; Five presents left to buy; And really nasty stuff like the lice outbreak at Charlie's school. I notice that since I am uncomfortable I take the nearest exit to Downtown Somewhere Else.

I want to not only look past my own distress but also ignore the distress of those around me passing it off as not related to me. Generally, that's no good. It's only a patch for a hole that inevitably begins to leak as soon as I turn away. Anyway, he's just a dude doing the best he can, right? Probably. I smile and watch him shove on.
With Charlie asleep in my lap I continued to watch. There was an elderly woman sitting in a wheelchair who would need to be helped down the ramp. One of the Southwest employees helped her arrange her luggage on the metal flaps where she rested her puffy feet. She yelped as the luggage went down on top of her feet instead of between them. The attendant didn’t hear her and the woman was making faces, jerking her legs and scowling nastily. This went on for a few moments before the necessary adjustment was made. I watched and saw my own easily roused irritation play on the woman's face. I thought, I do that. I winced. I've been that attendant, too. I think she feels bad and just then I am glad I am not her.

So, what I wish for all of you this season is to be present - to stay awake no matter what's going on around you and realize that your experience is shared. We are not so special after all. Our lives are ordinary, much the same as our neighbors and it delights me to remember this. All at once I unique and absolutely nothing special - never separate.

Like the guy with the bad mustache I, too, wonder if my deodorant is working. If it's not, I think Well, today I'm Stinky Girl. It's okay, though - yesterday it was you. :)

May all of you and your beautiful families have a spectacularly imperfect holiday season!


With love,
Chantill