To the Lovely Young Woman I Met on My Way Home from Seattle
Yesterday morning/afternoon/evening I traveled home to Florida from Seattle. The flight home was long, but I had an aisle seat, which made the journey a little better. Shortly after I sat down, a lovely young woman approached me and indicated she needed to occupy the middle seat next to me. I immediately noticed her chic haircut, stylish jewelry, and Timberland boots. She sat down with a journal and colorful pens in tow, and I wondered if she might be an artist. I didn’t inquire, however, because I understand sitting in the middle seat is punishment enough without having to endure incessant small talk throughout a cross-country flight.
I spent most of the flight trying to get comfortable, placing my head on my folded arms on the tray table, then leaning back in my seat with my hoodie pulled over my head, then propping my head in the palm of my hand, while balancing my elbow on the aisle-side arm rest. It was hopeless. But, the young woman to my right was writing in her journal.
Why am I not writing? I thought. I have plenty of time, and what’s more inspirational than soaring through clouds high above a mountain range or two? Nah, I’d rather just think about writing. Besides, I didn’t bring my journal. (Don’t bother asking if I had my laptop or cell phone with Pages installed. I did, but that nullifies my reasons for procrastinating.)
After more fidgeting in my seat and reading the in-flight magazine from cover to cover, I resigned myself to people-watching, which wasn’t so bad. Finally, the pilot announced that we were beginning our initial descent, and I looked over at the young lady next to me. I asked if she was an artist, and she explained that she uses the colored pens for journaling. I couldn’t resist sharing how much I love journaling too. We went on to chat about the therapeutic feeling journaling provides, life in general, and the differences in west coast vs. east coast living and, in those few moments, I thought about my younger self. In particular, I thought of things I wish I had truly known when I was in my early 20s. Things like:
Nothing is as bad as it seems.
No one has everything figured out.
Trust God and your instincts, and you’ll be less likely to second-guess yourself later.
Be kind to yourself because you’re doing the best you can.
And, most of all, each day is a gift, so treasure each one.
I didn’t say these things to my new friend, but I did tell her that I am a writer. I went on to tell her that I’d be starting a blog called The Friday Type, and that I’d like for her to check it out. I figured I’d be less likely to procrastinate for the rest of 2017 if I found an unwitting accountability partner. She said she’d look for my blog in about a week, and I told her to give me a month. I knew I could start the blog in a day or easily within a week, but I asked for a month because, procrastination.
But, today is Friday. It’s my favorite day of the week, I am alive, healthy, and blessed, and I am a writer. So, there is no better day to launch what I believe will be one of my greatest works, The Friday Type. Here, I will share my musings on life, publish creative writing, and seek to make a positive impact on all who visit.
And, to the lovely young lady whom I met yesterday on a flight from Seattle:
Thank you for inspiring me to do today what I have intended to do for quite some time. I hope your newest adventure is as amazing as you are.