If I had to say this trip was about anything, I would say its about thresholds. Crossing thresholds. Removing barriers between myself and the object of my desire.
As I dreamed about visiting London, I talked to several people who wanted to go with me. I said many times I’d love to have company – after all, it would be a bit scary to step into Heathrow suitcase in hand, not knowing a soul in a city of 10 million people. A city of legend, of ancient history, the most populous city in Europe: London. (cue sound of awe here…)
Well, step into Heathrow alone I did. And claimed my baggage. And bought a prepaid cell card. Turns out that stepping into Heathrow bag in hand from the plane isn’t all that difficult. After all, they kind of toss you off the plane; you really have no choice. Nope, the tough part was LEAVING the airport.
I took one look at the colorful silly-string London Underground map (full of mysterious and very British names like “Picadilly”), and quietly retreated to a bench to plug in my phone (with adapter) and get it working.
As I sat there reading the directions to my Air BnB lodging, a low-grade panic began to sit heavily in my chest. Like pushing through thickened air as in a dream, it was a huge effort to leave the relative safety of the airport. I began to wonder if I would spend my whole trip in Heathrow, sleeping on the benches, and just fly back. If some small, broken part of me would be satisfied just setting foot on English soil (ok – tile) and running back with that sterile experience. To keep London, England, Scotland, and drama school all in that amazing and beautiful cloud-space of “fantasy”. I could say, “yes, I was there- I touched it”.
I finally did leave Heathrow, but it took me more than two hours to step out that door. I gathered my three-fold safety net (A working smartphone, funny-looking cash, and an Oyster card), my unwieldy roll-aways, and got on the tube. Following the train ride was a challenging street crossing (look RIGHT first!!), and an even more challenging ride on one of the signature red double-decker buses London is famous for. Riding one of these things in London traffic whilst trying to corral two heavy roll-away suitcases is akin to being slingshot around inside a tin box. More than once I had to employ my martial-arts fall training simply to keep from breaking bones.
Arriving at my hostess’ door completed the first of many threshold crossings I made on this trip, the sum total of which I am just now putting together. As I add them up, I am beginning to realize a major shift is taking place. I am moving from dreamer to doer. Every single threshold I crossed brought one more fantasy into the concrete world – or at the very least, removed the huge amount of space I thought existed between myself and a piece of my dream.
Moving from dreaming to doing is not always easy for me. I face a huge amount of fear: fear that it won’t be what I imagine. Or, (which is more likely) the fear of finding out that I am not what I imagine. That is such a difficult truth to face. All I can do is hope for redemption in the fact I am both less and more than I imagine.
Do you have a threshold you are facing? Is something in your life bringing you face-to-face with yourself? Maybe you have a story of a crossing, and how it changed you? Share your comments below, or drop me a line, I would love to hear your story.
In the meantime, look for more stories in the weeks to come. Bon Voyage!