This week I left a suddenly snowy and seriously cold Boulder to visit friends in Vancouver. Traveling for me often yields interesting lessons and this trip was no exception.
In 5:00 am winter dark, with light snow and a temperature near zero, I take a bus to the airport rather than trying to drive. As we approach the north side of Denver, the low sky greying slightly as the sun rose somewhere over head, we hit solid traffic. Dead stopped.
Not having wanted to get up at 3:30 this morning to catch an earlier bus, there is not a lot of extra time before my flight leaves at 8:00. Part of me is beginning to be nervous. An accident up ahead in morning rush hour could mean all sorts of delay. I check in with my guides, and they say it’s all cool.
The driver has access to information and alternative routes. He turns off onto a long looping detour. We are moving, but time is ticking by. The sky is as light as its going to be as we get back to the airport approach road; after 7:00 and nearing boarding time. My guides still say I’m OK.
On the approach road we find more heavy traffic. Three lanes of crawling cars. My mind is running failure scenarios, involving a non-refundable ticket. I’m having trouble believing my guides now, but keep moving forward.
I have done an on-line check in for the first time, and have no checked luggage, so I can skip the front desk. I don’t know my gate, so I txt my son, waking him up again and get the gate! He confirms my hope that I can skip the main security system and go through a much smaller check point on the walkway out to the A terminal gates.
We pull in, 50 minutes late. I grab my bag from underneath the bus and take off running. In the doors, up an escalator, around the main terminal and out the walkway to the check point, huffing and puffing with my luggage.
Mercifully the line here is short, they don’t ask me to unpack anything. I’m off again, just trying to keep my legs moving, across the rest of the walkway, down a ramp to the terminal, where the speakers are already calling last boarding for my flight.
As I enter the terminal I find that an escalator I need to go down is closed for repairs. Really! I’m giving up in my head, but my guides still say OK. I consider trying to climb over barriers, but its not practical, so I lug my bags around to the west side escalators and walk down to the gate level. Shuffling back towards the east wing I hear another final boarding call, but forge on.
My breath is hard and rasping in my throat and my gate is way out at the end; three moving walks and floor space to cover. As I come to the gate there is no one there except the attendants, but its still open! My guides have been speaking truth. I walk down the ramp onto a half empty plane and drop gratefully into my seat.
I have been wondering how many obstacles are going to be thrown at me this morning, but realize now that my guides are showing me that I can trust them in spite of all the glitches. Trust and keep moving forward. In the end I had perhaps 10 minutes to spare, though if I’d slowed down earlier I would have been caught when security shut down.
Later in the day I have similar experiences with other legs of my trip. Being late, worrying in spite of guidance and then having time to spare in the end. I am learning to hold open the possibilities I choose even when they appear unlikely. I am grateful for being supported even when I doubt.
(© 11/2014)
