I enjoy airports. Most likely because they signal that a travel adventure is about to begin.
My family followed the “arrive two hours early” rule for every flight, and I’m still a fan. It allows me to relax and enjoy the airport phase of the travel experience. I’m not worried about security lines, overpriced water, or what boarding group I’m in. Although, truth be told, those days of being upgraded to first class have left a subtle longing for wider seats and fewer people.
I recently breezed through security and settled at my gate in a small Florida airport.
I had ninety minutes before boarding, so I pulled out my laptop, AirPods, and playlist. My belongings comfortably beside me, I settled into my project with Ludovico Einaudi playing at just the right volume. Loud enough to drown out most conversations around me, while still allowing the flight announcements to filter through.
I began noticing the voice patterns of the many announcements being made. Cheerful gate agents, no-nonsense gate agents, and a variety of pleasant voices making neutral announcements about people leaving their stuff behind.
And by stuff, I mean important stuff.
You might be surprised by the things people leave behind at the airport.
a hard shell brown carry-on suitcase
a phone left at security
a phone left on the plane
a stuffed animal (ouch!)
a carry-on left on the plane
a string of red licorice
(just checking your attention here)
yet another phone
Mr. “Smith,” please come to the information desk to pick up the “personal item” you left behind
another personal ID
one small blue sneaker (another ouch)
a backpack left at security
a white and yellow sweater waiting at the information desk
You get the idea, and that was just a short snippet of time while I was only partially paying attention to the frequent airport announcements.
Still, it made me wonder.
Travel offers the perfect storm for distraction.
There is rushing, overstimulation, unfamiliar environments, constant announcements, and the subtle background stress of schedules, security lines, and gate changes. The mind narrows its focus to the next task, and everything else drops outside the frame.
Of course, this isn’t limited to airports.
You may have left your credit card at a store, your sweater at the salon, or your sunglasses on a restaurant table. I once left my purse hanging on the back of my chair in the pizzeria at the mall. It goes without saying that my friends laughed among themselves as they tracked my head bobbing through the crowd while I raced back to retrieve it. I can still recall the startled expression on a woman’s face as I appeared, slightly breathless, pointing to my purse.
So no judgment here.
But if you are distracted or overwhelmed enough to leave your purse, your ID, your phone, or your child’s shoe behind (okay, that one probably slipped off a foot in a stroller), it might be time to slow down.
This applies whether you are commuting in the air, by car, on foot, or simply traveling between floors in your own home.
Before you rush off to the next place, or the next task, pause for a moment.
Take a breath.
Look around.
Check in with where you are.
Notice what you’re doing next.
Sometimes the smallest pause is all it takes to gather yourself, your attention, and hopefully all of your belongings before moving on.
Distracted? Of course you are in this day and age.
Yet you are also quite capable of using simple moments of awareness to protect your precious documents, your peace of mind, and perhaps even that favorite yellow and white sweater.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Psychologist Daniel Goleman’s book Focus highlights a mental skill many of us overlook: attention. Drawing on neuroscience research, Goleman explains that strong focus involves balancing three kinds of attention: inward (self-awareness), outward (empathy and connection with others), and broader awareness of the systems around us. People who thrive tend to move fluidly between these forms of attention. One simple practice he suggests is pausing periodically during the day to notice where your attention is directed. A brief check-in can help reset your focus and improve clarity, relationships, and decision-making.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
Driving into Soul Sanctuary last weekend, I noticed the trees were engaged in a wild dance.
I should have paid closer attention as I got out of the car, because the wind nearly took me with it. Walking to the door, I had to lean in and brace myself for a moment just to stay upright. The cold whipped through my clothes and found every uncovered space, sharing its bone-numbing chill.
We recently had a big snow in my neck of the woods.
Everyone was hunkered down. The fridge was full, chicken soup was bubbling on the stove, and my book pile sat patiently on the coffee table. As the snow covered the neighborhood and the plows dumped fresh mounds over our carefully shoveled walk, we took turns peeking outside.
As a kid, snowstorms were pure joy.
“I think we need to be friends.”
Those were the first words out of my mouth when I introduced myself to Rev. Hilda Covington. We’d just finished a county meeting of nonprofit mental health and social service agencies. She was the presenter that month. We almost didn’t meet because Hilda arrived an hour and a half late to a two-hour meeting.
Life has a rhythm. It speeds up and slows down according to mysterious forces.
Your personal rhythm dances with the celestial bodies, seasons of the year, developmental phases, and the pulse of your Soulful evolutionary process. Living in harmony with these rhythms is in many ways hard to understand as it is a complicated and deeply personal process. Your rhythm dances with everyone’s rhythm in the grand Cosmic Dance.
When standing at a crossroad in your life, it’s natural to seek answers. To search for certainty about your next steps. To want assurance that the decision you are making will lead you in the right direction, with the best possible outcome. Here’s where your mind jumps in.
There are conversations you may instinctively avoid. Death. Dying. The journey beyond are among them. The final exhale. The closing of the body. The long walk home. The next place of being. In many ancient traditions, this is not an ending, but a sacred passage—a birth into new realms of being. Yet here, in this fast-moving world, death often remains veiled in silence, wrapped in fear, and avoided in conversation.
