Sometimes I wonder if life is a series of flights, bringing us from one place to the other until we reach the final destination, where ever that may be.
Like on every other flight, we disembark at certain points to take in the sights and sounds that the place has to offer.
How long you stay really depends on how much you like that place.
And how much love that place gives back to you – we all know love, cannot and should not be a one way street.
Sometimes you get a really shitty flight, where the crew is rude and turbulence abound on every turn.
You really don’t have a choice but to stick through it.
Unless you are the sole passenger and happen to have a parachute.
Which isn’t quite possible because, somehow, no matter how you try and avoid it, we are not alone.
By choice or by fate.
And then, there are those flights with long transitions.
I define long as 6hrs and above.
There are 3 kinds people in transit – the kind who hangs ard the bar nursing a couple of drinks; the ones who find a comfortable spot and snuggle up wit a gd read or sleep and the ones who opt to check out and explore the place outside.
Life can be a series of transit stops.
We either get stuck in that transit self pitying or we get too comfortable and decide to stay that way until discomfort sets in again.
Or, we could make full use of our time and explore our options.
I’m currently stuck in that transit lounge, deciding what to do before my next flight arrives.
I wonder how long this transit would take.
I’m hoping there’s enough time to check out and explore the place a little.
This inactivity is getting boring.. My legs need a stretch.