The Terminal.

Right now, I am sitting in an airport terminal, a place I have become quite familiar with over the past year of my life. I have been on 14 flights in the past ten months. 14 boarding passes, and 14 times getting patted down in airport security (you think I would be flagged in the system by now. I look so threatening ha!).

I love people watching. Some places merit better results than others. State Fairs and Walmart are at the top of my list, but airports come in easily 3rd on my list, but for completely different reasons. I affirm, and will continue to, that there is a certain group of people (at least in the south) that only come out of their homes to got to two places: the State Fair, and Walmart.

The airport on the other hand holds a slightly less diverse group of individuals, but one that in some ways enthralls me even more.

I always have been a rule follower, and as a result, arrive at the airport promptly 2 hours before my flight. Whoever made this "rule" probably lives in a big city like NYC or Chicago. They probably have never heard of Tulsa, and therefore didn't make an exception to the rule (which is often needed). Today as always, I walked straight to the Southwest counter with no wait, got my boarding pass, and walked straight to airport security where I once again made it my goal to make the TSA workers smile (There's something satisfying about watching someone's face turn from a grimace to a smirk).

I checked each of those off my list in less than 15 minutes and find myself sitting in the terminal with an hour and a half and nothing to do but watch.

Every few minutes, a large group of people walks by from their incoming flight, rushing off to their destination. Where are they going? Are they visiting? Are they going home? Are they getting on another flight? Are they on business? Have they been on more than 14 flights this year?

Each passenger has a different story and different destination. I would give anything to know what that is. I am sitting with a group of give or take 75 people who I will spend two hours in an enclosed space with, most of whom I won't speak to, and two who I will share an armrest with.

Two people in particular caught my eye on the way into the airport today. When I was walking in, a couple was standing by the car, saying their goodbyes. The boy was still wiping tears from his eyes as he picked up his boarding pass inside. It broke a little piece of my heart even though I had no idea what his story was. I don't know where he was going or why he was leaving and probably never will.

He too is probably sitting in a terminal waiting for his flight.

Coming and going. Getting there quickly. Less hastle. That's what air travel is all about right? So many times we look at life the same way. We make our to do lists and seek the most efficient way to check everything off of our lists. The less interaction the better.

We hardly ever stop to see the stories that are happening all around us. Between all the coming and going, what are we missing out on? Maybe nothing. Maybe something.

I read a quote earlier this week that said this:

“Stop and take your time to notice things and make those things you notice matter.” 

Boarding number A 59. Its just a number and a letter, a seat on a plane. A list of to do's. Just words and numbers. While those letters, numbers, and words help us accomplish the things we "need to", maybe looking in between the words, letters, and numbers are the moments that will truly make a difference.