Turbulence
What we go through to get from where we are to where we really want to be.
Prefer to listen with your ears? Listeners will also get a bit of bonus content and extra commentary.
Turbulence
From here to there.
How many hours of your life have you spent on an airplane, in the dark, unable to sleep? Wondering why you do this to yourself. Why did you pick a window seat when there is nothing to see? You say to yourself, ‘why is air travel so terrible?’
The other day I happened upon a doodle that I had drawn while flying to Maui last fall that included the beginnings of a haiku. It brought back all those questions and feelings and frustrations, the moment I saw it.
But it also reminded me that I knew the answer to those questions. I do it because I am desperate to get from here to there.
Someday I’ll tell the story of how it actually took me 2 days and 2 sets of tickets to get from British Columbia to Maui, and the (retirement) life lesson I learned from that experience. Suffice it to say that by the time I was actually on that last flight from Vancouver I was exhausted and annoyed. And longing to walk in the waves.
I have a fair bit of experience with small aircraft. I’m not particularly bothered by turbulence. I’m not a nervous flyer. I’m convinced that flying is way safer than, for example, highway driving.
I actually enjoy a bit of turbulence – I’m not going to be sleeping anyway. I might as well get some excitement out of it.
But I have never in my life experienced the level and duration of turbulence I felt over the Pacific that night. It was awesome. And it made me think of what we go through to get from where we are to where we really want to be.
Here is my haiku.
Turbulence. Wind waves.
Gusts, across the sky, to reach
Waves upon the sand.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how we get from here to there. Not just in the sense of travel, but also in the sense of the stages of our lives. How do we pass from this way of living to that way of living?
I know that we are likely to experience some turbulence along the way, and that is okay. I will still board the plane and hope for the best.
But I’m still not exactly sure where I’m heading next.
Here’s what else I’ve been writing about this week…
Did you listen to the audio version? Here are the links that I promised…
Leanne Shirtliffe • Meghan J. Ward • The Narrowboat Pirate • Sherry V. Chidwick • Steve Marsh • Itchy Boots and my very own adventuring photographer son — Dylan Wyer
RESTACKED!
Once again, my fellow substackers have been very generous. The support you have shown for The Travel Paradox is very much appreciated.
Thank you to Mark Kuhn and Louise Tilbrook for restacking 7 Souvenir Stories from last week.
And I want acknowledge Laura McVeigh who shared my article We Travel in Times of Peace with her readers. If you missed it, I would encourage you to click on the link.
This particular restack was such an honour. I write about the Troubles in Ireland, a place that I adore. Ireland is also Laura’s home country. She knows the subject matter well.
Thank you Laura for your support, not only with this article, but all that you do to amplify so many writers here on substack.
Thank you to everyone who reads or listens. Did you know I’ll soon have as many subscribers as I have years under my belt? I may have to do something to celebrate — particularly if I can reach that milestone before my next birthday (in December).
You can help me reach that goal by liking, commenting and sharing my posts. Thanks!
JL Orr
Okanagan Valley, British Columbia, Canada
PS: You can also subscribe to Jumble of Sea Glass, if you are looking for musings, soul searchings and occasional silliness (of a non-travel nature).
