Heading home from vacation isn't exactly a fun idea to me. It's just something that you have to do, a reality. You usually don't ask why much less question how soon. It's like having a closure in a relationship. After the exhilirating fun together usually comes the excruciating breakups. It's not a pleasant idea to have to mourn longer than usual or let the hurt linger for long. At some point, you usually got to do something drastic and painful yet nurturing so you continue with life.
That's what I did late yesterday afternoon when I planed in from Kalibo. How I felt about going home couldn't be pictured and couldn't be any more poetic than the time I chose to do it, at dusk. The sun has set already when the plane touched down at NAIA, Manila's premier airport. I walked so slowly from the plane to the baggage claim area. Each step forward wasn't one that I adored.
During this time, there remains only one thing I so heartfully and longingly wish. It is this: That money isn't ever a concern. I wish it comes like a spring, boundless and limitless. Day in, day out it pours tirelessly. If that happens, then I would finally fulfill my fantasy of living inside an airplane. I would shuttle between airports, more or less doing it like the kid's game Connect the Dots. I would travel all year long and smile a mile long all the time.
But then, if that happens, it's likely that I will lose heart and appreciation for work and toil. A lifelong spent doing nothing but grand traveling isn't likely to help one build and nurture the idea of having to work hard first for something. Money unearned, when spent, doesn't hurt for sure. Not having to worry about money maybe everyone's lifelong wish, but I'm not sure it's something everyone can live with.
So now, here I am.
Where else, but work.
Taking a brief break.
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