Wednesday, March 18, 2015

the flyway of dreams

You want a big piece of this world. 
You would love to have the whole thing. 
"Consuming Desire" by Katrina Vandenberg

March arrived, and I wanted to escape in a hundred different directions. After three subsequent weekends boarding airplanes in LaGuardia, I thought I had slaked my thirst for traveling. For the time being, at least.

Rather, my feet itched to kick up dust once again.

So, instead of flying off on my own adventure, I facilitate an adventure for someone else.
Instead of taking off on another flight, I remembered what butterflies leap up in your stomach the first time you take off alone.
I remembered how overwhelming an airport is when you first land, with no guiding hand by your side; a veritable labyrinth of sounds and wandering through slick, soul-less hallways.

You follow vague arrows and bold, stylized signs, trying to find your way to the baggage claim before the public bus arrives at the ground transport station.

How often you long to see a familiar face waiting for you, in the sea of drivers waiting for bankers and small children with balloons greeting family members. So I waited there: someone's familiar face in the midst of the foreign. I was the little colony of home in the strange country.

Through my sister's eyes, I began to see the city all over again.
And I found it more beautiful than I had thought; and I fell in love with the crush of people, and the dizzying heights of buildings, and the exquisite, winding streets of SoHo and the Village, where each building looks delicately molded and thoughtfully crafted. Each column is shaved to a certain dimension, and each arch of each window perfectly frames the hum of life pulsing within its walls.

Travel is the art of learning to see new things. And there are so many new things hiding right underneath my nose, and all it took was a fresh pair of eyes to remind me to see the way she was seeing; to look at the world as if I were seeing through her eyes.

My sister's eyes reminded me that traveling--taking an adventure to find something new and beautiful--can take place just down the sidewalk, or just an A train-ride away. It's in the whisper of the trees in the spring wind, and the sunset peeking through the elegant, old building. There is a wild world of always-new things to see within the borders of my own city limits.

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