25 1 / 2012
"The Table
“Some of the most sacred moments in life happen when we gather around the table. The time we spend around the table, sharing meals and sharing stories, is significant, transforming time. Learn to cook. Invite new and old friends to dinner. Practice hospitality and generosity. No one cares if they have to sit on lawn furniture, bring their own forks or drink out of a Mayor McCheese glass from 1982. What people want is to be heard and fed and nourished, physically and otherwise—to stop for just a little bit and have someone look them in the eye and listen to their stories and dreams.
Make time for the table, and you’ll find it to be more than worth it every time.”
- 11 Things to Know at 25(ish)"
25 1 / 2012
Ever since I first got on a plane I’ve had the travel bug run through my veins. Seeing as I was only a week old when this first happened it’s not one of my crystal clear memories but if I fast forward four years I still remember the day I first traveled alone. Like a piece of unattended luggage, they place a sign around my neck, that housed my already tattered burgundy passport and boarding pass and shuttled me over to a woman who looked like the smartest lady I had ever seen. Hair in a bun with a hat that looked like a sailboat on top, navy blue uniform, high heels and far too much red lipstick. I took her hand as we walked through the airport towards the terminal. She talked the whole way like she did this for a living while my mind wandered off to where I was going. I was finally going home. Ten months of living with my grandparents in South Africa, I was finally traveling back to live with my mother in London. When the flight was ready to board she took me to my seat, helped me with my seat belt and said goodbye.
Twelve hours later and not a single wink of sleep, I was met at Heathrow airport by a gentleman in a navy blue suit, no lipstick and definitely not willing to hold my tiny little chubby hand. Instead he bent down, picked me up and carried me off the plane. As we collected my bags and made our way out the terminal, I asked him to put me down. The minute my feet hit the floor I hurriedly looked around, terrified I wouldn’t remember what she looked like. Worse, what if she had forgotten what I looked like? We hadn’t seen each other in nearly two years and these were the days before skype and video chat. Turning in circles terrified I had missed her, I finally stopped. There in front of me was the beautiful woman known as my mother. And like a Hollywood ending I ran at her, full force, into her arms vowing never to let her go again. She spun me round and round and I’ll never forget the most vidid memory of all. There was a woman standing behind her, mid twenties, long brown hair, brown eyes and big glasses and as she smiled at me her eyes were wet. She was crying. But I knew it wasn’t sad tears, she was just happy like me. Happy I had found my mama. Happy that my mama remembered me.
We left the airport that night. Hand in hand and it was then that I realized that airports were my favorite places in the world. Places for adventures but more importantly places where you found your way home.
All this to say, this picture, those suitcases, remind me of why I conquer my fear of flying every time I get on an airplane. Because coming home never felt so good.
(Source: eugeneia)
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23 1 / 2012
One day the three of us will make it out to Hawaii and after a long day surfing, we’ll sit on this hammock till the sun goes down.
(by Ali Mitton)
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