the wheels on the...

I'm doing a mixture of things right now. Writing and people watching and falling every bit in love with my Caribou coffee because you would too if you got 5 hours of sleep. It's noisy, but the kind of noisy where you can't pick out a certain word or sentence, more of a monotoned, humming noise. I see people smiling and laughing while others are hugging and crying. Kids are spilling goldfish on the floor and parents are losing their shit temper. A couple just passed me wearing cowboy hats and leather vests while a girl about my age must have lost the memo about pairing Ugg boots and a jean skirt together.

The airport is a marvelous place if you think about it. People from all over, gathering in one spot only in a set up to go somewhere else. Where are they going? Who are they going to see? Is it for work or pleasure? Can I pick who I sit next to because if so I have dibs on the whole lacrosse team sitting 100 ft. away from me.

This is the part where I tell you that we are like wheels. Yes, those round things that make a continuous circle yet never really know their final destination because, well, they are wheels. And this is the part where I build a bridge for my theory so you don't think I've completely lost it (although the caffeine could kick in any time now!)

We continue through life, most of us living a routine where we wake up, do our thing, go to bed, and do it all over the next day. We have goals and visions and aspirations and we tell ourselves that when we reach all those things, we've made it. Our final destination is our motivation and every day we make a continuous effort to get there.

But what if this is our final destination? What if we've already made it but we are too busy telling ourselves that this can't be it and that we want better? It's a tough cookie to crumble if you ask me. We push ourselves in a circle: make a mistake, learn from it, do better. Set a goal, reach it, set another goal. Fall in love, get hurt, find a more deserving love. Move away, get comfortable and bored, move somewhere else.

We are like the wheels on the bottom of the suitcases that are rolling past me. We are moving, having no control of where we are going or where our final destination may be. The wheels on those suitcases are being moved by a person with higher power and like them, so are we.