travel

This morning, as I prepared to leave for Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson airport, lyrics of a song came to mind – “what does it mean to travel…”. I quickly Googled that line and found all the lyrics to Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song of those same words.

From departure to arrival
What does it mean to travel
With your suitcase by the handle
Holding everything you need

.

Are you going or are you coming
Walking slow or running
Toward somebody or from something

Trade your longing in for speed
And the freedom to be a stranger
Is a bargain that’s ours alone
Sometimes you just want to be someone else Unencumbered and unknown

From departure to arrival
What does it mean to travel
And from taking off to landing
You could feel your heart expanding

You walked halfway down Manhattan
Till you met the Brooklyn Bridge
And in a two A.M.transmission
From a high wire act position
How the skyline behind you glistened
As if someone pulled a switch

And I don’t want to be a stranger
And I don’t want to be alone
But sometimes I just want to be somewhere else
Untethered and unknown
When I am far from home

From departure to arrival
What does it mean to travel

Yes, I’m in that chair in the sky once again. This will be trip number 410. But who’s counting? Oh right, me.

I’m headed to Crystal Bridges Museum in Bentonville, Arkansas. Located in the far northwest corner of the state, and surrounded by national and state forests and parks, this is a gorgeous place for a short retreat these first few days of Lent.

What does it mean to travel for me is summed up beautifully by the words of Mary Chapin Carpenter.

Traveling mercies.