Current location: Transavia aircraft, Amsterdam bound.
I feel the ground move beneath me, I hear the sound of an unfamiliar language over the intercom, and I see the city lights below me begin to grow smaller and smaller.
My first thought is how amazed I am, witnessing people communicating in a language that sounds like complete and utter gibberish to me.
My second thought is that I never want this moment, looking out the window of an airplane in anticipation of the unknown that awaits me upon landing, to be something I only look back fondly on one day.
I close my eyes and feel an emotional high that rises with the aircraft. Never have I felt so fully and blissfully present in my right now. To be able to live life day-to-day, week-to-week where the toughest decision I have to make is choosing which cities to visit over others in the time I have is truly a blessing, and not one I take for granted.
I often say “Thank you, God” in my head in moments like this when I’m amazed at where I am. Although it never seems to accurately portray my overwhelming sense of gratitude, I will never stop giving glory to God for providing. That’s the thing about getting to see the world, regardless of where I’m at in my walk with the Lord, it is impossible not to be reminded of His beauty and grace around every turn.
So with a full weekend ahead of me, I’m going to let John Mayer lull me to sleep from my earbud.
However, I have one last thought from seat 6F that I want to take note of for my future self: never stop traveling. Never let money be an object over a life of living fully, meeting new people and giggling to yourself at languages that sound silly to your American ears.
tot de volgende keer
“until next time” in Dutch
**Addition**
2/15/2016 @ 10:45pm
I hadn’t gotten the chance to publish this post until I got home and since then, this starry-eyed, wishful-thinking attitude of mine had dramatically taken a turn from one flight to the next.
Therefore, I decided it was only fair to add to this post in order to let you in on both sides of traveling.
I have a bad habit of putting my health lower on the priority list than it should be. This is a result of a terrible illness I suffer from called FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) where I want to be included always, doing everything and seeing everything that everyone else is doing and seeing. Yes, this does come with perks like succumbing to the peer pressure of adventure and exploring the world, but for me this past weekend, traveling meant my immune system being kicked to the curb.
On Saturday after exploring the canals, seeing the Anne Frank House, and the Van Gogh Museum (which are all incredible by the way), I took a nap and woke up feeling like I had been hit by a train in my sleep. I still had one more night to share with 7 other people in a hostel, so I knew the next 24+ hours would be rough.
Fast forward to the plane: After a long bus ride and waiting around in the airport, we finally were able to board our plane – in the freezing snow i might add.
I had handfuls of toilet paper shoved into my purse and because I could not breath, I prayed that it would be over sooner rather than later. Little did I know that the dutch family behind me would not let that be the case.
I kid you not, for the entire plane ride the little girl behind me kicked my seat and drummed on the tray table so that I could not escape with one ounce of sleep. The most frustrating thought I had was that even if I felt so bold as to turn around and say something to the mother, they don’t even speak my language so there was nothing I could do about it. The Dutch language wasn’t so funny to me now.
As they announced our descent into Alicante, the pressure in my sinuses begin to be unbearable and it felt like they would burst at any moment. Right on queue, the little dutch boy began to cry and I just kept thinking “it’s almost over, it’s almost over.”
Out of nowhere, the plane increased speed, tilting us back into the air and the pilot came on over the intercom telling us he decided not to land. My mouth physically dropped open and my brain spun with worst case scenarios. Thank goodness he decided to make a figure eight and give landing in Alicante another go, because I don’t think I could have taken even one more flight.
When we finally landed, my mom texted me asking me how I was feeling and as I started to tell her about it, sickness, hunger, exhaustion, and frustration took over and I joined the little boy in shedding some tears.
Life has a funny way of bringing you back down to earth, I guess, and I am still learning how to find ways to give thanks to God in these moments as well.
Amsterdam, The Netherlands