I travel a lot. I find that I am away from October to May most years. I speak to groups of therapists, coaches, counselors, and couples about how to how to heal their relationships and find passion.
That’s all wonderful. But it’s squishy.
My job is to create space for people. I bring people a safe experience, a world in which they can feel seen, heard, believed.
And I begin to create that space long before I arrive at my destination. I think about what I need to do for the workshop or seminar. I plan the journey. I plan the speech. I send my energy forward into the place where I have not yet arrived.
And then I have to actually get there. I travel to the airport. And I try to meditate on the plane.
Because I have to.
There is no head room, there is no leg room, no arm room. There is literally no room on the airplane for my own personal space unless I go into my own head and create it.
I remember when people used to talk on planes, get to know one another, chat. We do not do that anymore. There is barely room to turn our heads in our seats. We have to look straight ahead, close our eyes, go within, in order to find space, and so we become strangers in an intimate space that is normally reserved for children with parents, or for lovers.
I try not to eat too much, I barely sleep, I think a lot about what I am doing.
And then I arrive, I am ejected from the cramped inner space of the airplane. And I move quickly to my destination. The transition space from the plane to the workshop is important. It clears the space in my head, to make room for the next thing.