07/14/2025
The Day I Was Meant to Fly
Today is the day I was set to fly to London.
I imagine myself polling my suitcases,
making sure they’re all packed,
lugging them toward the door.
Panting. Groaning.
Cursing then crossing myself
as I throw one down,
open the zipper and
stash some last-minute,
crucial, forgotten item.
Oh, so carefully
so as not to reprise my last trip,
when the zipper broke
and I frantically moved everything into an older suitcase,
the faithful standby I had
gratefully not discarded.
I sense these reflections are becoming an homage to gratitude,
though that wasnt my intention.
I am running around the house,
planning to leave around 11,
get to the airport by 12
early enough to enjoy the Polaris Lounge,
order a meal,
breathe,
Relax until boarding for the 11-hour flight.
In choosing another timeline,
I witness the beauty
of the decaying peonies
that never fully opened,
as a sudden recognition lights me up:
I can get them replaced at Trader Joe’s.
They promised.
I will replenish my vase
with fresh pink peonies.
Clean laundry waits to be folded
Three new suitcases
line up to be chosen
or returned.
My body is allowing
peace to settle
in the decision,
in the moment.
I am grateful
for electricity
that alchemizes
coffee hot
and air cool.
Grateful today the pain is minimal.
Grateful for the stabbing pain
that stopped me
seven days ago.
Grateful to be on a healing journey.
Every step I take
is a healing journey.
Every breath
comes with the knowing
that right here
right now,
the invitation awaits.
My frozen indecisiveness yesterday
sitting
chanting
meditating
Praying for guidance
Do I stay or do I go?
I don’t know how many more days I’ll have with Jelly.
I don’t know how many more nights we’ll cuddle on the sofa
Watching TV
Or waking up to his body pressed against me,
his breath syncing with mine in a quiet rhythm only we know.
But I do know this:
Glastonbury is not going anywhere.
Glastonbury is in my heart.
Glastonbury is already inside me.
And when it’s time
when Jelly decides to cross the rainbow bridge,
and my body is strong again,
and my heart feels light enough to board a plane
then I’ll go
Free.
Unencumbered.
In celebration, not escape.
In devotion, not distraction.
I will not rush that day.
I will not call it in with thought or longing.
I will stay with what is.
And what is…
is this moment.
This love.
This breath.
This time
that is slipping,
even now,
through my fingers.
