Solo Travel, Complications

I am sitting in Liberia Airport, using the compass app on my phone to find West so I can chant the sun down. This trip is ending as it began -- with as many complications as possible.  A brush fire kept us sitting on the runway for two hours, then just as we were about to take off, a mechanical issue sent us back to the airport where we learned the flight was cancelled and we had to wait until tomorrow to fly out. 

Oddly enough, none of this phases me.  I am stuck here true, but here is a warm paradise, removed from the life that I have determined to adjust.  I am not alone, not really.  One other person from the retreat was on my flight, and she is sitting here with me, commiserating between our solitary wifi binges. And when I feel panic rising, I remember that I can chant down the sun.  One of the things I learned this week.  One more thing I thought I would never do in life.  Ever. 

The sun is truly down, and dark is descending over the feeble lights from the airport and the hotel across the street.  All the families with small children have been sent to hotels for the night.  The only frustration I feel comes from the overstimulation -- so many people talking, conspiracy theorizing and complaining.  It is a sharp awakening from my week of retreat.  It is hard to realize again that not everyone leads with compassion.  

I hoped to gently ease back into my life after this unhoneymoon, but it seems I am being tossed.  I can kick and scream and join the over stimulating chorus.  Or I can jump without fear, remembering that I can fly.