Harrison Baer
Inspiration is elusive. If you try seeking it out, it’s likely you will come up empty handed. Yet, pure inspiration tends to surface naturally, often sparked by the right people or places. At this moment, I am at the epicenter of inspiration: Hartsfield Jackson International airport. It’s a blur of foreign faces shifting through tight crowds. Just moments ago, an elderly man sprinted up an escalator, gunning towards baggage claim. I have never seen a senior move with such agility and urgency, and in that puzzling, odd display, I found myself inspired.
Meanwhile, TGI Friday’s is in full swing; ironically on a Thursday. The booths are packed, and the line is crawling out the entrance. The song of choice is SOS by ABBA. No, the caps were not my doing. The band AND the title are both CAPITALIZED – quite fitting in the atmosphere of the airport. Senses are stimulated. Emotions are escalated. Everything is tense, heightened, and CAPITALIZED.
At 10:40pm, a Boeing 747 from gate E34 in Atlanta, Georgia will leap from the tarmac towards Edinburgh. When the plane wheels touch ground, it will be my first time on Scottish soil. Word has it I’m a direct descendant of William Wallace, so I’m expecting a warm welcome waiting.
Expressing my current emotions is a challenge. The closest description is over the moon. Expectations are extremely high, and if the next four months are anything other than life changing, disappointment will soon follow.
Back to the Usain Bolt of the Boomers. His dash defied the concept of elderly decline. And although I was impressed and astonished, I was more curious than anything. Why the hell was that old man booking it to the exit of the airport? I can understand a dash to departure, but this frantic escape to the exit? Why? Where was he going? What fueled his urgency? What was his story?
That’s when I began to pay closer attention to the faces around me, the blurs I had been ignoring since my arrival to the airport.
It hit me: every person here had a destination, whether it was familiar or foreign. Each carried their own story of why they were leaving America, and where they were bound. My high school english teacher would be proud – I finally understood figurative language. An airport is a powerful metaphor for life.
Airports are a symbol of our beginnings, middles, and ends. Just as airport travelers navigate through terminals and the tumultuous trials of the TSA, we all endure a journey of unexpected challenges; delays, missed connections, failures, shortcomings, and moments of triumph.
Turbulence and obstacles are inevitable, and ultimately, we wield little control over what lies ahead.
Each traveler’s experience is unique – different flights, different destinations – but every one of us face challenges on our journeys – delays, layovers, JETLAG. This commonality is perhaps the most powerful tie that binds humanity together.
In my moment of realization, as I gazed about the bustling crowd, few wore smiles. Yet there was a sparkle in their eyes that told a different story—one of anticipation. It was a contagious anticipation that energizes and electrifies, filling the air with an unspoken promise.
Inspiration is not found inward. It lies in the stories that surround us, waiting to be noticed.
