I love airports and hostpitals.
I know.
NOBODY likes airports and hospitals. But I really do.
I'm sitting in Seattle airport just kind of vibrating with the hum of humanity. People complaining, laughing, scurrying, sitting. Everyone's feet are moving. Whether angrily or lazily tapping feet while waiting for a delayed flight or a long Starbucks line to move, or bags to arrive, or an airport employee to respond to a question or request... or boots clicking on the long walkways, clip clopping down coordidors with urgency so it sounds like horses running or a newborn baby's heart beating on the monitor before the mom goes into labor (a sound I heard two days ago while at the hospital waiting for my baby niece Anya to make her appearance and blow my heart open). People in an airport are moving, going somewhere or else waiting to move or coming from somewhere.
Arrivals and Departures.
I guess that's what I love. The coming and going - the rhythm a traveler dances to.
Two days ago my niece arrived and two days ago a wound on my grandmother's leg became infected and took over her body. Grandmere was raised Christian Science and has never taken medicine in her life. She refused treatment at the hospital, ripping out her IV lines, vomiting and hysterical. I think this might be the start of her departure.
My Aunt Lauren showed Grandmere photos of baby Anya - her first great-grandchild. The circle of
life is just so intense.
But when I step back I remember that it's all just arrivals and departures and I love that.
I love the human condition... that's why I am studying medicine and spending my life striving to be of service to people who are struggling... that's why I'm a traveler... that's why I'm an eternal gypsy who's always ready to go wherever the go is.
Yesterday my sister was in post-partum in the hospital with her little baby Anya. She hated it and couldn't wait to get out of the hospital. I didn't want to go. I didn't want her to go either. I love hospitals and I loved being there with the baby... in the lap of wisdom. Babies are pretty scary. They're so tiny and innocent and totally dependent on us grown ups.
Their arrivals are so magical.
I love the buzz of the hospital. People committed to being of service dancing around gracefully and elegantly amongst the storm of pain and chaos of suffering patients. People are born and die in the hospital. In and out. Ephermerality seems to loop in an eternal rhythm.
We shall see how long my Grandmere holds on, but regardless of how long it is - I feel as though she has printed her boarding pass and will be departing at some point in the near future. Afterall, time is just relative and we're all just floating somewhere between our arrival and our departure.
I know.
NOBODY likes airports and hospitals. But I really do.
I'm sitting in Seattle airport just kind of vibrating with the hum of humanity. People complaining, laughing, scurrying, sitting. Everyone's feet are moving. Whether angrily or lazily tapping feet while waiting for a delayed flight or a long Starbucks line to move, or bags to arrive, or an airport employee to respond to a question or request... or boots clicking on the long walkways, clip clopping down coordidors with urgency so it sounds like horses running or a newborn baby's heart beating on the monitor before the mom goes into labor (a sound I heard two days ago while at the hospital waiting for my baby niece Anya to make her appearance and blow my heart open). People in an airport are moving, going somewhere or else waiting to move or coming from somewhere.
Arrivals and Departures.
I guess that's what I love. The coming and going - the rhythm a traveler dances to.
Two days ago my niece arrived and two days ago a wound on my grandmother's leg became infected and took over her body. Grandmere was raised Christian Science and has never taken medicine in her life. She refused treatment at the hospital, ripping out her IV lines, vomiting and hysterical. I think this might be the start of her departure.
My Aunt Lauren showed Grandmere photos of baby Anya - her first great-grandchild. The circle of
life is just so intense.
But when I step back I remember that it's all just arrivals and departures and I love that.
I love the human condition... that's why I am studying medicine and spending my life striving to be of service to people who are struggling... that's why I'm a traveler... that's why I'm an eternal gypsy who's always ready to go wherever the go is.
Yesterday my sister was in post-partum in the hospital with her little baby Anya. She hated it and couldn't wait to get out of the hospital. I didn't want to go. I didn't want her to go either. I love hospitals and I loved being there with the baby... in the lap of wisdom. Babies are pretty scary. They're so tiny and innocent and totally dependent on us grown ups.
Their arrivals are so magical.
I love the buzz of the hospital. People committed to being of service dancing around gracefully and elegantly amongst the storm of pain and chaos of suffering patients. People are born and die in the hospital. In and out. Ephermerality seems to loop in an eternal rhythm.
We shall see how long my Grandmere holds on, but regardless of how long it is - I feel as though she has printed her boarding pass and will be departing at some point in the near future. Afterall, time is just relative and we're all just floating somewhere between our arrival and our departure.
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