Beneath a dark sky Brisbane airport became wet as the morning shower became rain. Behind a variety of masks people held in check their expectations. Above them within the thick clouds planes held in holding patterns circled. Beneath the clouds the thoughts contained within the stranded travellers circled endlessly. When would circling stop and the journey begin?
Time moves slowly when you watch it. It doesn’t watch you and cares not for your attention. It just is. Circumstances just are. The morning progressed, the people didn’t. They remained stranded in time and place. But delay is not denial and in time the wait would be over. For some the relief of movement lightened the load even as they strained to move upright after so long as human pretzels curled over their phones. Along with everyone else we boarded the plane.
I met a lady on a deadline. For her the clock was still ticking loud in her head even as the engine whine rose in pitch and we thundered down the runway. Pressed into our seats we accelerated hard and rose through the soft white clouds that obscured all sense of motion. She closed her eyes and willed the plane a burst of extra speed so that she would not miss her friend’s funeral.
I will never know how her day progressed but I do know that tomorrow her delay would be just another story to tell. There are many stories that are never told. They circle endlessly in the imagination. Writing stories is not done by forcing them into existence. They wait to be discovered by checking our expectations at the door and practicing presence that is to say being fully present in all circumstances.
Does anyone feel like sharing how they draw from experience to write? How do you stay in the moment to harness something good out of your circumstances?
