Oh boy, I really am so happy when I’m on the plane. I think there’s a comfort in being alone with my thoughts, having constant flow of tea (or bubbles) and movie or books as entertainment. No one can bother me, I can’t even be tempted with connecting to the internet to reach out to someone.
I feel genuinely happy on the plane. It’s a tad sad, I must admit. The place that feels like I’m completely me is a temporary metal cylinder flying through the air. But I know it’s a phase and I’m not hung up about this chapter in my life.
When in this seat, I’m excited for the next adventure. The people to meet, the stories to tell, the adventure to begin. There’s a sort of comfort in this unknown. 2019 Lisa would be so proud of 2023’s Lisa for her better embrace of the unknown today.
Humans can’t have wings like birds to soar in the open and I’m grateful for the next best thing, metal wings. Each trip is exhausting beyond words, and it is hard for others to grasp. And in this metal cylinder, I’m able to have a quiet rest, indulge in whatever I’m reading and catch up on some silly movies.
Resets are when I’m in nature and I think this little reset with my metal wings can now act as a temporary buffer before I do a proper nature reset. Otherwise I’m so burn out, I can’t function. I’ve timed it — 2-3 months sprint followed by a burn out. It’s fine tbh, i choose this path actively and still choose it every single day. Knowing and anticipating it allow me to manage it better.
Perhaps nature trips will adventure much further the more stress and mentally suffocating I feel. (Im genuinely managing it well. Im surprised myself.) Metal wings are more fun when it’s at least 10 hours.
Here’s to my gratitude for metal wings. I’m grateful and excited for this chapter. Come what may.