The Promise

Earlier today, I was standing at gate 98C in Newark airport, awaiting flight 1199 to Houston. I was going to be on time. I was standing next to a power source and it wasn't long before someone asked me if I was going to use the plugs. I said no. She put her phone on it. I was looking at my boarding pass. A female pilot wandered over to charge her phone. We got to talking. Somehow, the United boarding process came up. I mentioned that I was one of the regular people. I'm not platinum, gold, or anything.

I looked again at that boarding pass.

My boarding pass was a miracle in itself. It represented me being in Newark about 5 hours earlier than originally planned; and that United had changed my flights without charge and the first flight from Ottawa had arrived in time to make my connection. I suddenly blurted out to random stranger plugging in her phone, "Just think, I'll get to Houston, no traffic on Beltway 8, no traffic on 225, no traffic on 146."

She was not from Houston and had no idea what I was talking about. But I had blurted out an impossible situation; there is never no traffic on these highways at 5:30 pm.

On the other hand, as I looked at the paper boarding pass, I thought it represented a promise. A promise from some higher authority that I would be taken care of.

Amazingly enough, I drove home from the airport, 40 miles during rush hour, without a single bad traffic area.

I have spent most of the day in steel tubes flying through the air. But, I was also alone it seemed. I thought of my medal picture from the Ottawa 2012 half marathon:

It is a still life.

This morning, I spent 3 hours in a car with someone feeling tension. Now, I am driving home, 2,000 miles and hours away from this morning. As I drove the last few miles to my home in Houston, I felt the stillness of the picture. It is a memory of an event, a memory of living flowers. It is a memorial of an experience. It is silent.

I am a girl who will go on running. I will go into my elliptical now. I will do my balance exercises today. I just had my green tea and there is fresh spinach in the fridge. My boss has already sent an e-mail asking if I would help a colleague.

But, alone, I feel the stillness. It is so beautiful, I may cry. Thank You Stillness.