Here she is, just as I promised.
Isn't she lovely? Look at that smile, those friendly eyes, and that gorgeous natural silver hair. (My dad refers to his as platinum blond.)
When I first spotted her, she was walking in the opposite direction way across the concourse in the Chicago airport. I did a double-take. Hey! That's the same kind of naturally gorgeous silver locks I'm trying to cultivate!
Then the battle:
Should I track her down and tell her I like her hair?
Don't be silly. Walking up to a stranger in the middle of the Chicago airport on a Thursday just to tell her you love her silver strands is ludicrous. We do not do ludicrous.
So I steered myself back to my gate, stuffed my ears with earbuds, and listened to Switchfoot's Gone. Tried to concentrate on blending in to my chair. But on my second time through the song, when they got to the part that says, "She believes in living bigger, bigger than she's living now," I hoisted myself off the plastic and went in search of that particular silver-haired woman. In the midst of a swarm of hundreds.
Against many odds, I finally found her in the food court. She looked so pleasant that introducing myself and telling her I loved her hair wasn't so hard after all. Although I was nervous and didn't learn as much as if I'd been a braver version of myself, I did learn these things:
- Ruth and her husband Dave raised their three kids in Chicago. Since Dave is self-employed, they decided to cut loose seven years ago and make a move based on pure fun.
- So they up and moved to a little town called Norway, Maine, and bought a house with three acres on a lake.
- Their kids thought they were crazy.
- Ruth and Dave are having the time of their lives.
What if I hadn't renounced my airport chair and gone in search of the silver-haired lady? I would have been fine, but I also would have missed out on exercising my brave muscles. Even worse, I would have missed inspiration in the flesh. I'm so glad I did it. Even if it took me a year to tell you about it.
How about you? Do you have an "airport chair" you need to break up with? Think what you could be missing!