Moments of authenticity

Earlier today I was striding through the airport, dodging all the slow people and whizzing past the confused ones, and I thought about how much I love airports. And especially how much I love walking through airports in a purposeful manner while dragging my rolling suitcase and carrying my tote. It's even better if I'm talking on the phone at the same time.

And this got me thinking about moments of authenticity in my own life. I feel alive and happy and purposeful in airports, but there are other moments in which I feel that I am totally myself. Such as walking to class, with a cup of coffee in my hand and my favorite vintage Coach briefcase slung over my shoulder. Or bringing a horse back into the barn after riding while teasing Phineas with my whip. Or standing knee deep in a river. Or reading on the porch (any porch) with a cup of coffee.

And now I'm wondering about your moments of authenticity, dear readers. Or possibly reader, singular. I don't have a fancy tracker to know if anyone reads this besides people who talk to me about it later.

Hmm. Someone just called me from what seems to be Roanoke, VA, but then didn't talk. Was that you, Julie?

Also - when did they start planting crops in circles? While flying over some otherwise boring parts of the country today I noticed that instead of the normal squares and rectangles, there were lots of circles.

Also - how much do I wish I could stick my head out the window of an airplane? THIS MUCH. Because I bonk my forehead on the window every time while trying to get a better view of whatever I'm looking at on the ground.