Thoughts on the plane
It’s 4:40 in Montreal. I’ve been in the air for a couple of hours. Everything seems a bit surreal, probably in part because I am very sleep deprived. I had a restless week and then last night frantically packed until the wee hours. My nervous energy also prompted me to wash the kitchen floor around midnight – the rational being that I would be happier when I return if the house looks at least halfway decent. Then there was a 3 am anxiety attack about whether or not to check my bag. In my zombie like state today, I almost missed my flight from Boston to Montreal. I thought they were still boarding the preferred passengers and then I heard “Final boarding call for Alison…”
[Looking at the flight map, we are flying over places like Churchill, Wekweti, Flin Flon and Big Sand Lake – a reminder of how unfamiliar I am with even North America geography]
Part of the anxiety stems from having to reconcile how brave I thought I was with how brave I actually am. I talk a lot: “I want to live in Japan for 6 months”, “I’m a city girl at heart”, “I’m not afraid to be alone.” But here I am, heading to Japan by myself, and I wonder if I can live up to who I imagined myself to be.
In any case, it’s an adventure with relatively low stakes. And 9:25 to go in the air before it really begins.
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origamiunicorn 