I can’t put it off much longer, I suppose.
I know I should put aside these not-really-important distractions and go upstairs to pack my suitcase. We leave for the airport early tomorrow morning. Becky’s suitcase is packed, zipped and ready to load in the car. She has been working through her checklist for the last several days while I’m just sitting here not thinking about what I need to pack.
I admit, preparing to leave for a trip brings out the procrastinator in me. Oh, I enjoy the adventures and pleasures of new places once we get there. The experiences and knowledge, the memories and reflections of the trip are the things I will value and cherish once I am home. My problem, I think, is with the tiresome effort leading up to our destination. In truth, it is the mental image of all the hurdles, hoops and hassles I might encounter that causes me to drag my feet.
Even before I get started deciding what to take, I am picturing the many long lines into which we will be herded as we thread through the cold, cavernous glass and steel holding area that is every airport. I am imagining the requirements to sometimes hurry, sometimes stand and sometimes sit at various stages of the journey.
I see myself emptying my pockets and taking off my shoes, placing them along with my luggage in the gray container on the conveyor belt. At some point I will stand still in stockinged feet while I listen anxiously for the small beeps that I hope I don’t hear because that will mean I have some object on me that the TSA objects to which means I will have to go through extra searches after which I will feel more rushed and my shoes will be only half on my feet as I rush to get out of the way of the travelers lined up behind me.
And that is just one of the many lines I will have to pass through.
I trudge up the stairs to my as yet unfilled suitcase all the while mentally sighing at the ever-growing lists of regulations, mandates and directives I must heed if I wish to fly our friendly skies. It wears me out just imagining what might happen. Suddenly, it comes to me — there might be a solution.
The other night while Becky was busying packing, I heard an Olympics commentator say how one snowboarder was visualizing every moment of her entire run just before she actually started her performance. How he knew what was going on in her head, I don’t know, but maybe that was what she was doing. Perhaps what I should do is visualize my entire trip as a series of successful steps to my final destination.
I begin to visualize the morning drive to the airport as smooth and uncrowded. We find a parking spot close to the terminal and before we know it, we are holding our boarding passes. The TSA line is practically empty of travelers. When I am scanned, the little warning beeps don’t go off, and I easily get my shoes on. We get to our gate with enough time to enjoy a morning coffee and just as we finish, the attendant announces it is time for us to board. We find empty spaces to stow our luggage right above our seats — Becky by the window and me on the aisle. Our flight, which is non-stop, leaves on time and even gets to our destination a bit early. After a very short wait, we deplane. Our ride is waiting for us, and in no time we are ensconced in our vacation residence. The same things happen on our return flight home. Easy-peasy.
Okay. Let’s hope my vacation visualization works. Now, on to the suitcase. Hmm. How many pairs of socks should I pack?
