Category: Short Story

Unconditional Love

Charlotte Chapman6 Comments

Making someone laugh. Opening the door for a stranger. Saying good morning to a passerby. These are all small moments, but have huge impact on a person’s day and life overall. Acting from a place of unconditional love brings more love into the world.

Selfish desires make love possessive, unhealthy, an object. It lessens love and makes it into a commodity, adds a price to something that should be priceless.

Sometimes with love you have to make hard decisions and do what is best for both you and the other involved. That’s what unconditional love is for someone—not based on your desires, but on what is best, what is right. 

Bring On The Next Sunrise

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Another day ends. As the hum of the night settles as a cool blanket, the girl lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. She clutches her plush toy, and looks out the window of the room, stealing a glance of the moon.

The moon is actually a reflection of the sun’s light, she mused, the lady of ocean tides, of midnight strolls.

However, she waits for the next sunrise, it’s glory bringing on a new day of sun. Or perhaps rain. But she hopes for the sun.

Anticipation

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This concept can set the stage for epic adventures or failure.

What do you hope for? As your eyes lock with that gorgeous stranger across the coffee shop.

Are we just passing by? Or will that one small gesture lead to conversation, to connection that is real, to adventures beyond what you hoped for.

And will that connection meet your expectations, fulfill that desire you long for in another? Or is it just another disappointment to add to the list.

There is another adventure waiting around the bend. Look for it. And anticipate it.

 

The Airport

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The Airport

Written originally 04/07/17 & 04/09/17

People walk about, a network of connections, waiting, traversing the airport network. Travel for business, perhaps? Or for pleasure. Maybe, it is out of duty or obligation, such as funerals and the sort. As you wait for the flight do you choose to consume junk or organic? Water or soda? Coffee or tea?

So many choices.

This airport has a yoga room. Yes, you read that correctly. Now yoga is mainstream. DO you sit and wait? Or walk around? I am curious about the yoga room. Is it full of incense and dim lights? Or is it just a bunch of people wearing Lululemon clothing, bending over in their too thin leggings (including the guys). In the meantime, I have finished my organic chai ( which used Starbucks chai, unfortunately). Perhaps I shall walk to that yoga room. I won’t stay sitting. There is so much to see in this airport that it feels more like a mall…

So I checked out the yoga room. Yes, it had dimmed lights, which automatically creates a relaxed ambiance. Several females in their 30s to mid to late 40s were doing various poses. I joined them, taking off my hat, wrap and shoes. Sun salutations and bow and arrow poses allowed me to stretch. I also meditated.

What would happen if more people practiced yoga at airports? Would they be more relaxed? Or is it an excuse to say one is spiritual or whatever and be a jerk afterwards?

Airports. That one word conjures up images for those who travel. Big planes, metal tubes with wings that fly people from point A to to point B. Long lines, security points, tickets, luggage on wheels. And don’t forget the 3 ounce rule. Overpriced food, that one always seems to buy, even if one has bought their own food. And the people. IN all shapes, ages and sizes. Walking to their terminals, dragging behind them wheeled bags. Holding hands with their child, or a cell phone in hand, texting their coworker or boss or lover. A web of movement, knowing where to go but also not quite, due to various distractions of noise, advertising, restroom seeking and the hunt for caffeine that most have an unhealthy addiction to in order to brush away grumpiness and sleepiness. Which then leads to said bathroom hunt.

Many are plugged in to their electronic devices, be they headphones, laptops, cellphones. Waiting, anticipating, the future. Or contemplating the past.

Two strangers meet in line at security. One, a young female in her early 30s comments on the man’s black macbook pro. Laughing, he responds that it’s an IMB and he put the sticker on there to blend in with the macbook users at coffee shops. She asks, more as a statement, that he is trolling them. He said yes.

They part ways, going to their separate destinations. Will they meet again? Or was this a one time meeting? Who knows the future except Father Time? In the meantime, it is that time to once again find a bathroom, perhaps a half decent meal, before boarding the flight.

 

….

 

The chai cup sits on the table, steam coming from its frothy, spicy contents. A woman sits, holding the warm cup in her hands, looking at the steam dancing on the surface. She glances up, looking out the window and seeing the olive trees’ branches sway outside the floor to ceiling restaurant windows.

She glances at her watch. 8:23am. Still on time. Yet still waiting.

The sunlight pours through the windows, lighting up the restaurant’s white walls, slab wood tables and granite floors with a soft glow of the morning’s sun.

Luggage next to her, she knows that it’s back to the airport, back on a plane, back to the status quo of life.

Has anything changed? Of course. But deep down, her core values didn’t change.

Adventure is wonderful, and choosing the right one is an art. Sometimes we pick spot on, and other times we make mistakes. Or perhaps it’s a mixture of both. Fun and pain, Pleasure and annoyance. Rest and unrest. Pounding migraines and contact highs.

She will remember this trip as a mixture of both. Hopefully the good is what is remembered. Having new experiences allows one to do their own thing and form their own opinions.