15/06/2026
Travel day 614
Always reminiscent of college road trips.
Miles upon miles of highway,
and even more miles of conversation.
The kind that wandered through dreams,
heartbreak,
bad decisions,
and impossible plans.
Sometimes you drove all night
just to arrive at a single thought.
And somehow,
that thought became you.
Travel Day 614
Old friends are like stars on a map to ourselves.
Sometimes the connection appears out of nowhere.
Or WhatsApp.
Tiny pinpoints along our journey,
quiet reminders
that we are becoming exactly who we are meant to be.
Not perfect.
Just present.
A lovely way to begin a travel day.
Travel Day 614
Sketching people.
Waiting.
Watching.
Resting.
Meanwhile,
corporate has booked me a 30-ish minute transfer at DCA.
Place your bets.
Travel Day 614
This gig is in the Eastern Caribbean.
Cue the playlist.
Reggae sunrise.
Hot tea.
Salt air arriving before I do.
I like watercoloring the places I’m about to visit.
There are routines waiting for me at every port.
But perhaps this voyage asks for something different.
A change of focus.
Which, now that I think about it,
is why most people board these ships.
Some celebrate.
Some heal.
Some simply need rest.
All of us hoping,
for one reason or another,
to return home looking at life a little differently.
Why not me?
I can change my focus too.
I spend my days performing what the brochure calls “enrichment entertainment.”
Mostly,
I draw.
I listen.
I delight in conversations.
And perhaps this voyage,
instead of showing people my victories,
I amuse them with my struggles.
Because adaptation
has always been my favorite medium.
Travel Day 614
There are mornings when we wake with only one goal.
To change the world.
Not in some grand,
history-book sort of way.
Just a quiet shift toward kindness.
A gentler word.
An open hand.
A light left on for someone who needs it.
If not for yourself,
then for others.
Whether they notice or not.
Just change for the better.
Just be.
Travel day 614
American Airlines lost my luggage.
It made it to the airport of departure.
I watched the little AirTag icon on my phone,
proof that my bag existed somewhere just out of reach.
I begged.
I pleaded.
I told them exactly where it was.
A ground crew manager shrugged and said,
“Figure it out yourself.”
An impressive suggestion,
considering they wouldn’t let me.
So now I’m filling out forms that lead nowhere,
clicking customer service links that seem designed
to test the limits of optimism.
Travel day 614.
Sometimes the universe tells you:
Just be.
Today I would like to file an appeal.
