Traveling light is more than ability to pack all your clothes in one small carry-on. It's about what we take and what we leave behind the moment when door is closed and our feet are set on the path to the car, airport, or train station. It does not really matter what kind of transportation carries you away from your familiar habitat. Whichever route you choose, the next time you walk through this very door, you will not be the same person. It doesn't really matter how far you are going, whether you are heading to another city, another state, or another country. The core idea is still the same: you trade known for unknown, safety for adventure, old life for new.
To me, travel, especially over long distances, is a miniature representation of the often forgotten half of the life cycle - from death to life. I head out of my home and disappear from my old life. Things stay the same, but I am not there anymore. The whole significance of events is slowly shifting. My reality begins to change.
I check in for the flight, pass the security checkpoint, follow the signs to the departure gate. My life fits perfectly in the concept of "here and now". There is no way back, and still no way forward as my plane hasn't arrive yet. All my belongings fit into a small suitcase.
I join the crowd in the waiting area. I like to watch people, thinking about who they are, what lives they live outside the airport. Kids and grannies, couples and families, some wearing high-street fashion, some traveling in pajamas... Will I ever meet them again? Who knows... But right now I am a tiny part of their lives just as they are parts of mine.
As my plane roars through the sky, I watch the clouds from above. Sometimes they look like a thick blanket covering the globe, and sometimes they look exactly like those little white puffy mounds painted in children's picture books.
My past is slowly fading, my future is not here yet. I have ten long hours to spend with myself.
Throughout my life, I've had an interesting relationship with flight fear. As a child I loved planes. I was always excited to fly and I dreamed of becoming a test pilot. My dreams changed overtime. I did not become a pilot, but still enjoyed air travel. Then, shortly after my children were born, something broke. I suddenly started to feel uneasiness during flights. I've read that it happens sometimes to new parents. Maybe it was a fear for the kids' lives, or for family safety; I do not know for sure.
But one can't avoid air travel while having relatives and friends on another continent. I kept flying, coping with growing fear and searching for a way to stop it.
One night before yet another trip, after hours of restless tossing and turning in bed, I went to the living room and began to meditate. I was determined to get to the core of my fears in order to deal with them. And during that meditation I suddenly realized that travel is an inevitable part of my life and thus the fear of flying is, in fact, the fear of life, nothing else. This discovery shocked me. I always thought I love life! As I continued my meditation, I also realized that, in fact, it was never promised to me that life will consist only of pleasant things, that all my wishes are destined to come true or that everything will be easy and painless. I do not even know how long I will stay here and what will be my exit door. At that moment I told to myself: 'If you love life, you should take it in whole, every little bit of it, and enjoy it no matter what. Every moment, till the very end. You are here to enjoy your journey, not to fear it.'
Believe it or not, that was the cure! I like to fly again. And more importantly, I learned to value life in its whole, with all its 'ups' and 'downs' (turbulence included), and I dip into new adventures and discoveries with the enthusiasm of a child.
While my thoughts carried me into another dimension, my plane has covered one half of the globe. We are landing on another continent. All of a sudden, everything has changed. Different language, money, measurements, food, habits, expectations, colors and smells are awaiting just a few feet ahead. We emerge from the warm and tight enclosure of the aircraft through the narrow tunnel of the jet bridge into an entirely new life. And this life, now more real than anything, is awaiting to imprint itself on me. I'll take it. I will never be the same.
