I made it to L.A.
Phew.
I’m stationed at a Starbucks getting some work done, and I wrote this post quickly. I wanted to share it before jumping into info about my trip. I’ve been thinking a lot about why I’m doing this – traveling all the time – and I got an answer yesterday, during my trip out here.
When I got back from Europe, everyone asked me what my favorite part was. I know the obvious answer was “ICELAND!” with a skip or jump in there, perhaps some heel clicking. I think my actual answer was surprising – Paris.
To be fair, it could have been anywhere – if I had a Marion there. My visit to see my former foreign exchange student was amazing. Aside from being an incredible host, opening her home to us, and cooking for us every night, it was so amazing to see her. From the time she picked me up from St. Christopher’s Hostel to the time she dropped me off at the airport, it was if no time had passed at all. We picked up right where we left off.
It made me want to start this trip – working my way around the U.S. and visiting old friends. Luckily for me, I’ve got a few out on the West Coast that I’ve been meaning to go visit. You can imagine my excitement – two weeks full of Marion-esque reunions. But the one thing I forgot that I love about travel, is meeting strangers.
It took some butterflies and some overpriced inflight wine to remind me of that.
My journey started yesterday when Mike dropped me off at RDU. My flight was on time, I got through security quickly, and boarded my plane in record time. However, as soon as I boarded, I started to get oh so familiar “I’m super nervous” butterflies in my stomach.
It’s ridiculous, but sometimes, I still get nervous about flying. I got up and discreetly asked the flight attendant for some water – he sympathetically gave me a huge bottle, and asked, “Aw, honey, this your first time flying?”
No, sir. I do this all the time.
I did all the usual tricks – I ran through the chances of getting in a plane crash, played the “I’d rather be here than there” game, and took deep breaths.
The guy next to me noticed. I tried to play it cool, but one of the friendly flight attendants exposed me. He handed me some bags of crackers and said,
“Sweetie, here are some snacks. Don’t be nervous, you’ll be fine.”
Oomf.
Since the jig was up, I confessed that I was just a little nervous. The guy (bless your heart, stranger) reassured me that if I needed anything, he was there, and engaged me in conversation for the entire flight.
I just realized I never asked for his name, but he was a neurosurgeon interviewing for his residency. He had been traveling all over the country for two months, answering the same question over and over – “Why do you want to be a doctor?”
(Yes, I asked him that, too. The answer was really intriguing.)
We talked a lot about uncertainty – I confessed that sometimes, being uncertain or feeling out of control was the source of my anxiety. He talked about how what residency program he’d end up in, was almost entirely dependent on some super computer in Washington D.C. that decides these things.
I can’t even imagine.
“Good thing we’re young, right?” he said.
He talked about how we still have time to figure things out (turns out, we’re both 26), Philly (he’s been there quite a few times) and how he hoped to visit Europe before his residency starts. For someone who literally has no clue where he’ll be in the next few months, he seemed really at ease.
By the time we landed, I was good to go.
The next flight was obviously much longer, and my nervousness had greatly diminished. I spent the next five hour flight drinking Cab Sauv with Martha and Rose (two other women in my row), talking about our lives. By the end of the first hour or so, we had developed a special camaraderie.
I told them about my Iceland trip, and how I hoped I’d someday visit Chile and Argentina (for the wine). Martha, like she had known me for years, replied with “well, knowing you Melissa, you definitely will.”
I talked to Rose (she was sitting directly next to me) for a long time. I learned all about her life, her struggles, her changes in career, and her family. I told her a bit about mine, but I mostly listened to her story. She had the essence of a woman who had lived through life’s most challenging lessons, emerging with wisdom and clarity.
“There’s probably a lot I could teach you,” Rose said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but don’t forget what I said. If you listen to other people, your life is gonna be jacked up.”
She talked about how we can never reclaim age – that at 65, she was never going to be 20, 30 or 40 again. She was 65. I was 26. We won’t feel or experience the same things we did at 16. We’ll just continue to learn from our experiences and hold on to our memories.
“So you should make them really good memories,” she advised.
By the time I got off the plane, I felt really positive and uplifted. (It’s surprising how the kindness or wisdom of a complete stranger can inspire you.)
In just a few hours, I met three unique, fascinating individuals with very different stories. In each of them, I found some kind of similarity or shared life experience. I thought about that as I waited outside for A.J. (my friend from L.A. and host) to pick me up.
Even when we feel like we are, we’re never truly alone. We’re surrounded by people who have experienced very similar things. Maybe that’s why I like to travel so much – beyond the sense of adventure, it opens you, enables you to meet these strangers. Strangers that otherwise, you never would have met.
It’s a bit cheesy, sure, but still rings true. The world is full of strangers – living their own lives, and unknowingly, one their way to meet you – whether it be at a bar, in some remote part of the world, or hey, on a flight to L.A.