I’ve created my own office in the flight attendant waiting area at JFK. I accompanied my friend who was flying out a couple hours before me, so I’m 4 hours early for my flight. I figured the down time and lack of Internet access would force me to focus, write, and plan. I went to the bathroom and Starbucks for 10 minutes and this is what I returned to:
Yes, that’s my computer tucked away in the back. …I was effectively crowded out. So much for focus.
I’m going to be away from the city for two weeks, which will do me good. I have a lot of thinking to do about my future. Whether that means settling into a full-time position which provides stability and structure (at the cost of less free time), or continuing the freelance lifestyle with more time for friends and passion projects (at the cost of a routine that keeps me somewhat sane), a cost-benefit analysis will probably be involved.
Holidays and retreats from the norm are reminders that our routine lives are often stuck in bubbles. Life in New York- as dynamic as it is- is not life, nor is life an act in suburbia with my parents. These are simply snapshots. Indeed, the compilation of everything – the fence posts and everything in between – is life. I’m coming to the realization (reluctantly) that my favorite song lyric from Conor Oberst’s Bowl of Oranges does not sing quite as true anymore:
But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty.
Then we would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.
Life is not a painting on the wall left for admiration, nor is it still and immovable. It is dynamic, changing, fluid; a river, more than a tree. However, I don’t ever want to stop believing it is beautiful.