I’m on a plane, looking out at the sun rising over the southern California mountains. It’s a warm, clear Sunday morning in Los Angeles and I just said “see you soon” to my partner Joshua — I’ll be back in a week. You see, my daughter Ella lives in Missoula and Joshua lives in Los Angeles — I split my time between the two. The two-legged flight between Los Angeles, California and Missoula, Montana, is my commute.
I am aware of the privilege of my position, living in two of the most iconic places in the U.S. is an immense gift, but it also presents challenges.
My commute is emotionally taxing — I process my anticipation for seeing one of my favorite humans and the loss over being apart from the other. My commute is physically demanding — usually it involves a very early morning or a very late night, sometimes both. My commute is stressful — my schedule is controlled by the airlines and flying in Montana, especially in the winter, is notoriously unpredictable. My commute is confining — I don’t enjoy sitting still for hours on end. Commuting in this manner asks a lot of my body and mind to continually shift gears and states.
Over the past few months I’ve noticed that my commute is an inflection point, a place where depending on the choices I make while thirty-thousand feet in the air and during my layover, I set myself up for a productive and positive week ahead, a week of stagnation, or a week of struggle.
When I’m commuting and choose nutritious foods, move my body with stretching and walking, meditate, and avoid alcohol, I’ve found that it’s easy to stride into a healthy and productive routine upon landing. However each sub-optimal choice makes it harder to handle the stress and my healthy habits on the ground take a hit.
When I’m commuting, it’s easy to justify soothing myself with junkier food or free adult beverages, to say I’m too tired to exercise, or to scoff at the less than tangible benefits of meditation. But when I don’t eat well, when I don’t stretch and move my body, and when I don’t meditate — especially on days when I commute — I suffer more than I otherwise would.
Interestingly, my commute back to Missoula usually occurs on a Sunday. Some people use Sundays to set themselves up for a solid week ahead. It’s a common meal planning & prep day. It’s a day to relax and restore, to take inventory and get ready for the coming work-week. After a few months of trial and error, I now use my commute as a metaphorical Sunday, regardless of the actual day of the week. Instead of wallowing in stress and sadness, I use the time to process, relax, and prepare for the days to come.
By making mindful and intentional choices on my commute I can walk off the plane without missing a step.