Playing the Airport Blues

Ok.  So I’m in the Atlanta airport, having been in airport halls for 9 hours.  A “mechanical difficulty” on the original plane had 145 passengers scrambling for stand by spots on other flights.  I’ve arrived in time to be a stand-bys…the last flight that will get me to my destination in time to have some of this day there.  I am not successful – just two seats away.  The day, as I would have had it, is busted, by no fault of my own.  I have a quick cry, easy tears, and a phone call to commiserate. 

Moment felt.  Moment done.  Nothing to do about it.  Soften my focus.

So I take a walk in the terminal, having three hours to “kill” when I realize this is a wonderful opportunity to train as a grace operative.  This is where the rubber meets the road, when all my plans are bust and I am given the territory of the present moment.

So I walk, with my carry-ons of course, down the long concourse of the “D” gate.  I breathe, I take in, I let myself not know where I am going and become a passenger in my own journey.

Walking teachers abound in front of me.  I begin to imitate body spirirts as they pass me by.  A saunter that feels good, like a moving “hang”, arms easy on the side with a slight legato transfer of feet.  Then short steps, creating tight hips and a keen sense of people rushing people by.  Next a thrusting walk, heal first,  setting my weight in my hips.  I’m self- conscious at first, until I realize no one is noticing.  I can walk differently every moment.  I am free in my anonymity.  I am fed by our shared presence.

Body parts are favored,  affecting the flow: the placement of a chin, the angle of hip, the thrust of a chest, the position of shoulders.  Feet add percussion and a rhythm to the walk.  A woman swerves left in a perfect arc.  I mirror the swerve to a water fountain.  A perfect dance noticed only by me.  But who needs an audience when grace abounds?

Back to the walk and the abundance of moves, each inviting a different way of navigating.  A wheel chair swirls in front – smooth, weaving energy.  Children work their carry-ons in fluid play.  High heels bounce.  Tightly held bodies keep a shape even while moving. 

There is play everywhere.  There is grace everywhere.  There is fullness everywhere.  I catch the eye of another sojourner.  “Enjoy your day,” I offer.  “Thank you,” came the reply, “you too.”  And you know what?  I will.  Amen.