to feel alive

as usual the timing of the cabin trip is exquisite.

i think.

with so many loose ends and uncertainties swirling about, this, clearly, is a curious time in life.

In addition to joining Kris at a career crossroads, this is the last day of the first year of school. it's apparent the speed of life is not only catching up with our family. it is overwhelming us, evidenced by, among other things, the lack of time for funegro.

So I sit here on an AA flight in a reflective state. Being confined to a metal cylinder streaking six miles above the earth tends to do that.

in the bosom of seat 25b with my thoughts and an iPod, i'm separated from the cacophony of our lives. and i’m thinking with some clarity and little wisdom about big picture stuff. Life. Career. Family. and I think about how our kids are changing. quickly. two weeks ago, I got my first (of many to come) rejections from my child as we sat at the dinner table.

“Andrew, are you ready for me to come have lunch with you tomorrow at school?”
“Uh. I don’t know. I’m gonna be real busy.”
[as my fork and jaw thud on my plate] “What?!”
“We’ve got a lot going on. Our class is doing a big project. I’m gonna be busy.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t come have lunch with you?”
“Uh. Yes.”

I didn’t see that one coming. (he relented. we had lunch. it was genius.)

but that rejection created a depth of hurt I’ve never felt. Have had kids not greet me when I got home. Kids go to Mom instead of me. But I’d never had a child reject me in that way.

To feel such a raw and new emotion was tough – yet it was oddly life affirming. Made me think about the range of emotions we feel. the things that make us feel human. feel alive. like pain. joy. surfing. riding a harley. And I wonder about the emotions I haven’t felt in my forty-something years of living. The emotions that await me – for better or for worse.

how i long to feel alive. To breathe. And I realize how constricting so many of my daily machinations are. The stresses of obligations, of work, of time literally keep me from breathing. the shortness of breathing reminds me of the shortness of life. contrast that with the deep, cleansing breath which startlingly reminds me how precious life is – and how our often self-imposed pressures rob us of living.

There in lies the joy of the cabin. Relief from obligations, from pressures, from media, from unwanted messages, from clutter.

The simplicity of the cabin brings life.

bring it on.