One of my favorite things has become looking at the states from above, in particular cities at night. I love to see the golden lights twinkling below, and pondering the thought process behind the layout of the city. I often develop little stories in my mind of what people are doing down there. This is the mind of a writer, I suppose, always spinning a story. Vegas was easy, I assumed everyone was gambling away hard earned money or getting married on a whim.
This time, as I flew over Nashville, I wondered if some of the blinking lights I saw where from Christmas lights. Farfetched, of course, but it made me smile to think of it. I could see the cars moving, in one continuous line of light. I could see baseball fields, and malls packed with cars driven by holiday shoppers. It’s been so hectic this last month or two that I couldn’t wait to land in Philly and become one of those cars in the line of light, doing holiday shopping and visiting friends.
My second favorite thing is people watching in the airport. I think I could do it all day, and in some layovers I felt that I have! But people at airports wear their emotions on their faces plainly; they don’t seem to be able to help it. Some are saying hello and enveloping long lost loved ones in a huge hug. Some are saying goodbye, and don’t want to let that person go. They’re the ones who stand locked in embrace for a long time, versus the hello hugs which last seconds. I wonder why that is? That saying goodbye is more permanent? I think we should have equal hello hugs.
I always wonder about their stories. I wonder what they think mine is. I’m using the word wonder entirely too much in this post, but I suppose that could be the theme of this post. I have spent an incredible amount of time “wondering” these few weeks.
I’ve wondered about my own story, quite frankly, as I sit on these long flights. When my life will calm down a bit, where I’m going to move to in the upcoming months, where all of this work will get me. And then it came to me. I needed a setting. You can’t possibly figure out your story without a setting, an end location in which the movie of your life takes place. All of those people I stare down at from the plane have a setting. The people in the airport probably do, too. So that was it, I needed to determine where I wanted to be, what I’m working so hard for and where I want to end up.
This is what it looks like. A ranch house on at least 50 acres. Rolling hills or mountains in the background, at least. Wide, light filled windows, wooden floors and a big stone fireplace in a big, sunny kitchen. And another fireplace in my bedroom, while I’m at it. A room overlooking the mountains with a nice white antique desk where I can write this here blog. And don’t forget the horse in the pasture and the kids running around with reckless abandon. Clearly, I went from having no picture to a fairly well defined one! I can almost tell you what I’m wearing, it’s become so clear.
But I have to admit that once I came up with a destination, the smaller steps of getting there seemed easier and a little bit more worth it. How about you? Do you have a destination for your story? If not, please do yourself this favor:
Wonder about everything a little bit more. Wonder about yourself and your path, and then determine where it will lead you. Where does your movie end? You owe it to yourself to paint that picture!
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