My grandma doesn’t “fall” anymore. She now, very elegantly, calls it “landing” instead.
Somehow, she always manages to get back up.
The fall doesn’t stop her from doing the groceries, dancing in the mornings, or cooking for the army of fatties that we are in the family (or is it called ‘foodies’ now?).
Anyway, sometimes you fall, and you hit the ground hard. You land.
And landing is a blessing in disguise; it means that you’re not stuck; it means you’re living.
It’s part of directing yourself forward.
Although my grandma is way ahead of us, of course. She’s been doing this landing thing for a while now. With style, too.
You and I might have landed a couple times, sure, but we’re gonna have to land many more still. There’s an infinite number of landings ahead of us.
Forced landings, emergency landings, soft ground landings and landings with a crosswind at the very least.
But there’s no other way to conquer new territory, and expand our horizons.
If you have an explorer’s soul, you’ll land.
Not everyone is okay with landing; but explorers are.
Landing is for the brave. Sometimes it gives you height fright and comes with a bang. Sometimes it comes with turbulence, pressure changes, and great uncertainty about what awaits on the other side.
Sometimes you haven’t even had the time to buckle up, but you inevitably land anyway. Because although you might not always be aware of it, you’re already propelled towards your next destination at more than five hundred thousand miles per hour.
And at this point, you can scream, you can panic, you can squirm on your seat and close your eyes, but the one thing you can’t do is get off the plane.
Best you can do is to embrace the landing ahead of you with open arms. Accept that you’ve left behind your old safe haven, and in many cases, even the version of yourself that you used to be back there.
Because behind every landing there’s a new destination that will demand a new version of ourselves.
So make sure that the baggage you’re carrying is up to par. That it contains the survival kit and necessary tools to make your journey there as smooth as possible.
And yes, plan ahead, but not so much that you forget to live in the moment. Savour the journey, with all of its turns, ups and downs. From that feeling at the pit of your stomach when you’re descending, to the impact at touch-down and the feeling of that fresh breeze tousling your hair somewhere remote and unknown.
Shaking you off your roots and making your pillars tremble; inviting you to rebuild yourself.
Lastly, don’t forget: Travel light and take only what’s necessary.
Get rid of anything that’s heavy. Overweight baggage will only delay you. Drop it when you must.
Remember we’re just travellers passing through. And being a traveller means knowing when to leave things behind so that you can keep moving forward on your journey.
Last call.
Descent, approach, ready for your next landing.