Sometimes I amaze/scare myself with the things I do and the places I end up. Yesterday, it was the cafe in Copenhagen airport. I have been there for more times than I can remember, always getting a sticky cinnamon roll and a cup of overpriced coffee. It was like a ritual I have before departing from my favourite airport since years back. I will sit at the high chairs by the window, looking out at the traffic of planes and odd vehicles driving around.
So there I was drinking my coffee and I can’t help feeling a whirlpool of emotions. Perhaps from the farewell that I experienced from my love ones the day before, or the excitement and uncertainty of my adventure, or the unexplainable sadness and guilt that I felt for flying on an empty plane (While in the past I would pray for empty seats beside me. But when given almost 240 empty seats to choose from, I felt really bad that our national pride is in such demise. Also, Greta would not be happy!).
How many people would love to switch places with me right now. How impossible it seems, just 6 months ago, for me to have coffee in a foreign land amid these strange times. How lucky I am to be able to pursue what I want with the support of my family and friends. How much craziness it takes for me to press the restart button at this age when people around me seem to have a grip of what is going on in their lives.
And yes, I scare myself sometimes and this is something that happens more periodically and precariously in the recent years. Even if I lose myself in this life journey again, at least this time I knew I have been there before and everything will eventually work out fine.
