FOR SOMEONE WHO FLIES AN average of once a month, I don’t spend much time in terminals. Usually, my boarding experience includes a bedraggled sprint through the airport (often carrying my daughter, LP) that leaves me panting in front of the gate agent, sweat streaming down my back as I fumble through my phone trying to find my e-ticket while Southwest passengers step around me to board.

This time, LP and I were early for our flight. We actually meandered through the airport. Neither of us were accustomed to all that free time. Then, I caught sight of something at the end of the terminal.

Golden-hour light streamed through a massive floor-to-ceiling window where a small group of adults and children gathered. As LP and I approached, the reason for the crowd of children came into view. They were playing a giant Connect 4 game. Parents stood around them, some on their phones, some watching planes out the window, several observing the kids.

The children were doing what children do.

Without even exchanging names, the invitation to play was offered. A scruffy haired toddler handed a round, red Connect 4 coin roughly the size of his face to my daughter. LP stood on tiptoes, the two blonde travel buns atop of her head barely clearing the third row of the game, to slide the coin into a top slot. It fell down with a plastic-on-plastic thunk, making a red row of four.

Nobody seemed to know the game was won; clearly, the rules were not in play. Instead, it was playground protocol where collaboration and the energy of creation are how everyone wins. The children worked to fill each slot with a coin, bigger kids lifting up younger siblings to reach.

When one lucky child got to pull the lever releasing all the coins to the floor in a satisfying clatter, the children clapped and started over. Parents exchanged smiles, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only adult who secretly wanted to be the lever-puller.

The kids played. I chatted with several parents. When our flight was called, LP and I departed with waves and goodbyes to the other families.

There was a togetherness in the terminal that day. There was a bond forged in the simplicity of child’s play beneath rays of Colorado sunshine. There, amidst the harried energy of people on the go, was a pause and presence in the name of childhood and simple joy.

It’s a treasure of travel to share a passing moment with strangers you’ll never meet again and let it open your heart. These little nuggets of gold are common when we make ourselves available to them by being present in the moment. But I might have missed out on them if not for an important conversation I’ll share in Chapter 2. First, let’s chat about why you’re here reading this book.

The Screen Freed Travel Dream

Picture this for your next trip...

You arrive at your destination feeling exhilarated and ready for adventure instead of drained.

How is this possible?

If you liked the snippet you read above, grab your copy of Look Up! and dive into the rest!