today, a well-traveled friend told me
that she thinks the journey
is just as important as the destination.
i hate the journey most times.
i hate arriving at airports,
before i fly and say goodbye
but once i am in the air,
those feelings subside a little
as i look out and enjoy the sky,
happily wait for my half cup of ginger ale
and slightly stale cookies.
i enjoy looking at the calm that comes over most faces
before lulling off into a light sleep
as thoughts of the exciting places they’ll go,
the people they will see,
the business they will attend to,
the family member or friend they will bury,
the food they will eat,
being able to be on their feet
and live another day on this earth
take over and travel along with them.
it’s funny that the landing part
is somehow easier.
i do brace myself upon the descent,
spend about three seconds not breathing
as the plane touches ground,
but i can’t help a smile coming across my lips
when i realize that i am where i intended to be
and that it would be impossible to get there
without a journey,
without deciding to pick up and leave,
without facing discomfort for a few moments,
that it will be all worth it in the end.