At Home In the International Terminal
It makes me happy going somewhere new
I love to run on fresh, wintry mornings. I haven’t done so in a while. Yesterday, I ran along the train tracks at 5 am, chasing after the full and pale morning moon. The humidity was brutal after about an hour, and I thought to myself, well, it only gets better from here.
Autumn, winter and spring in Tokyo, running through the city.
But the Japanese summer has got the better of me. After three intense months, I need a breather. I’m itching for the crisp late-autumn air. An exhale.
I need to see my family and friends to recharge after much time alone in my head. So I’m going back to Los Angeles to have some fun.
The travel day begins.
When traveling, all you gotta do is get there. Enjoy the ride. This is the beauty of travel. It’s an excuse to just be. You don’t have to do anything, even though it’s tempting to do with all of the downtime while on the move.
In the moments on the train, in the airport, and waiting in lines, I don’t put pressure on myself to do anything. I don’t have to write and I don’t have to read. I can listen to music, gaze out of the window, and watch the world go by for 24 hours if that’s what I want.
