Live It As It Comes

I was sitting on the floor in the Nashville airport with my travel-worn, leather bags beside me. There was an open seat I could take, but I wanted to sit next to the window. I pulled out my journal and mentally went back over the previous five days as I reached back into my bag for a pen. 

My plan was to write about everything that had just happened, but I couldn't find the words. Instead, I wrote about my present surroundings. Two young parents next to me were playing with their charming toddler. Outside of the window in front of me, an airplane pulled up the jet bridge to unload its passengers. Three people further down the row from me were animatedly discussing the food that they ate in Nashville the day before, and I knew that if I got to know them, we would all be good friends. 

After I boarded my flight, I sat in the middle seat. I had chosen the most economical options I could find for this flight, so I turned down my first choice of sitting in a window seat. I arranged my bags under the seat in front of me and watched as other people boarded the flight. A couple approached me and stopped at my row. They asked if I would like to scoot one seat over by the window so they could sit together. I smiled as I nodded yes, delighted that I was going to have a seat by the window after all. 

Out my little airplane window, I watched the city of Nashville growing smaller and smaller below me. The next time I come back, this place will probably be our new home, I thought. I grabbed my phone to take a photo of the city skyline with the batman tower rising above it, but I had already turned it off before the flight. I sat back and took in the moment without needing to document it. 

We rose above the clouds. The city was lost from view. I still couldn't articulate my thoughts, so I leaned back and closed my eyes. Glowing rays of early morning sunshine reached in through my little airplane window and wrapped me up in its warmth. 

After the airplane landed, I turned on my phone and saw a missed call from my realtor in Nashville. "Congratulations, you just bought your first house," she told me when I called her back. And just like that, this life that my daughter and I have known in Denver for the past four years is coming to an end. Just like that, a new chapter is opening up in front of us. 

We're constantly living in a series of moments that are all strung together. This moment is all that we have. We can only see such a small part of the picture at one time. Sometimes we try to hit pause just long enough to understand the moments behind us or figure how the moments in front of us are going to play out. But there is no pausing because the time keeps right on moving. The best thing we can do is to fully embrace each moment we get as it comes.

My dad drove to Nashville to help me shop for a house. I was standing with him in the basement of the first house I put an offer on. He was explaining how the foundation had been redone the same way he would have done it. His voice carried his 30 years of building experience. I remember feeling so safe at that moment. The significance of it wasn't lost on me. This house's foundation had been successfully redone, parallel with the fact that my dad and I are also rebuilding a relationship with each other. Then it got quiet between us and he teared up. He didn't say anything for a moment. He put his head down and then he looked at me. 

"I don't know how to tell you what it means to me to be able to do this with you," he said. I didn't know how to tell him how much it meant that he would drive more than 6 hours just to look at houses with me for a day. He showed up and supported me in my house search, without using it as a moment to advance his own agenda. I was afraid he wouldn't come, even though he said he would. I was afraid that our time together would be awkward and painful. I didn't know how to tell him what this meant to me. I didn't know how to tell him that after 30 years, all I have ever wanted is for him to be there and now there he was. 

Now, I'm planning to move into that same little house in less than 30 days. There's so much that I'm looking forward to, but I don't want to forget to live fully in the in-between moments. 

Wednesday is that in-between day of the week, cushioned right between the fresh beginning of a brand new week and the celebration of another milestone that's been completed. Some days it looks like a quiet flight between destinations, between what's been and what's to come. Sometimes it's slow and sometimes it's rushed. The in-between is harder than the known. It feels unsettled, unlabeled, and uncontrolled. But the in-between has its own beauty. Let it always be celebrated.

Whether you are waiting for a Monday to start your new goal or a Friday night for a new adventure, savor the in-betweenness of Wednesday. Live it as it comes. Breathe deeply of the here and now.