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Another day, another airport. As I’m sitting in Pearson airports The Hearth, drinking my glass of Pinot Grigio, enjoying the most delectable bowl of onion soup, I must say: I am in my happy place. There’s something about an airport that I just love. Everyone is going to different places, for different purposes, but for a brief period in time, we all sit in this (large) confined area having a similar experience. While some may be pondering what the following days will have in store for them, whether they are off on an adventure, about to close a business deal, or on their way home, I find myself solely in the moment. Where I’m going is irrelevant right now.

Perhaps it’s because I see the airport as representative of our journey in life. People coming, people going. Happy people, sad people, confused people, frustrated people. People engrossed in their technology. People blissfully people watching. People like me, somewhere between the two. Parents trying to entertain their children through a long journey (bless their hearts!) Elderly people slowly meandering their way to their gate. People who patiently wait in line. People (the worst kind) who line cut because they just don’t have their **** together. People wearing their backpacks, about to set off on a Euro trip they’ll never forget. People with their full set of Louis Vitton suitcases, doing whatever people like that do (I just wouldn’t know lol) People enjoying a lavish steak dinner and swiping their expense card. People eating onion soup like a pauper in a fancy restaurant (me). I think all of it is just so blissfully fantastic. It’s the most organized form of chaos I can imagine, and for anyone who knows me… organized chaos is my jam.

It inspires me in a way. Not in any specific way that I can pinpoint, but in an overall way. It reminds me that in the chaos of this world, we find a way to pull it together. And in this world where the news can drag one down to lows they didn’t know were possible… it’s reassuring knowing that we can, in fact, pull it together.

17H

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