Toronto Pearson Airport
Airports are interesting. They’re a junction to distant journeys, an intersection of flyways, a place where people of different tongues and colours come together only to scatter and fly off again. It’s never anyone’s final destination just the place they have to go to get somewhere else. Why is it here, then, that I think I’ll find answers? In the globetrotter’s limbo; the space between destination and origin, the landmark that never makes it on anyone’s travel plans – let’s eat here, see this, do that – yet is inevitably part of every itinerary.
Why do I think I’ll find answers here?
Everyone is here for different reasons, but it’s the same in essence. We’re here because we need to be somewhere else. We’re here because we don’t want to be where we were. Maybe the man beside me is going to a funeral. I know the group of high schoolers are going somewhere with sun and sand; I saw the bikini in the suitcase. Mr. Suit N Tie is traveling on business and his only carry-on luggage are the bags underneath his eyes. The gentleman across from me is going on pilgrimage. Or I just made a stereotyped observation about bearded men, I don’t know. But we’re all here, chasing after something or running away, wanting to escape, relax, forget, needing to grow, mourn, fulfill obligations, perceived or true. We’re here to be, to feel, to live, life, dreams, ambitions, destinies, to find, meaning, reasons, explanations, answers.
Answers. Questions? Can’t find answers without questions. But why do I feel I can find either here?
Maybe it’s because an airport is full of possibilities. So many people, so many lives, so many destinations. Maybe I’ll stumble upon my question here. Maybe I’ll be the answer to someone else’s question. Or maybe I’ll find my question and realize I had the answer all along.