A Lesson in Patience (and Perspective) from an Airport Stranger

There is a deeply existential ritual we’ve all endured: the airport layover. You’re stranded, luggage in tow, elbow-to-elbow with strangers who look just as defeated as you feel. It’s purgatory with overpriced cinnamon rolls and fluorescent lighting. That’s where I met him—the stranger who gave me a lesson in patience, perspective, and, strangely, relationships.

I didn’t know I’d walk away a little changed, or that his words would somehow echo into my own love life. I was too busy sulking about my flight delay to foresee any of that. He? He was eating chili out of a bread bowl like the Denny’s at Gate C-5 was a five-star Michelin restaurant.

The Setup: Delays, Frustration, and Bread Bowls

Let me set the scene. Flights were backed up because of "mechanical difficulties." (Don’t you just love how casually airlines use those words? Like, “Oops, the sky machine is broken. Hang tight.”) I’d been at the gate for two hours, oscillating between stress-scrolling and mentally preparing for the apocalypse.

This stranger—a man who looked somewhere between retired cowboy and part-time philosopher—plopped down a seat away from me. He wasn’t scrolling. He wasn’t glaring at the flight board like it had personally betrayed him. Nope. He was just enjoying his bread bowl with the tranquil air of someone who'd mastered the art of not caring about things he can’t control.

"I reckon this flight’ll happen when it happens,” he said to no one in particular. (To be clear, I hadn’t made eye contact with him, much less invited his commentary.) Still, his voice cut through the loudspeaker announcements and the cacophonous airport chaos.

I glanced up from my phone and gave a polite-but-reserved nod. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. I wanted to stew in my frustration—it was the only thing keeping me warm while I froze under the industrial-grade AC. But something about his aura made me pay attention.

The Conversation: Love, Luggage, and Letting Go

He took another bite of chili and gestured to my carry-on bag. “Let me guess—you packed snacks, but now you’re kicking yourself for not grabbing extra chargers.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong. My granola bars and a single USB cord weren’t going to last me much longer. I raised an eyebrow. “Something like that. What about you? Didn’t bring chili from home, I assume.”

That earned me the faintest of chuckles. “Nope, just this and the clothes on my back. Learned the hard way that overpacking doesn’t get you where you need to go any faster. Speaking of”—he leaned back like we were old pals chatting at a campfire—“you traveling for business or chasing someone important?”

The question caught me off guard. I stammered something about attending a friend’s wedding but secretly wished I had a more glamorous answer. He let my half-response hang for a moment before delivering the line that would stick with me far beyond Concourse C:

“See, life’s no different from baggage. Pack too much, and you’re just dragging around stuff that weighs you down. Pack wrong, and you don’t have what you need when you get there. Either way, you gotta figure it out as you go.”

What Does This Have to Do With Relationships? A Lot.

Now here’s the thing: At first, I dismissed his comment as one of those quirky musings people spout after spending too much time alone with their thoughts. But the more I turned it over in my mind, the more I realized how much it applied not just to travel but to relationships.

Here’s what I gleaned:

  • Overpacking = Emotional Baggage
    You might think you're prepared for anything because you've packed “everything” from your last relationship into this one—memories, regrets, overanalyzed texts, unresolved topics. But guess what? Emotional baggage doesn’t fit under the seat in front of you. If you're carrying it, you’re not traveling light. And it sure doesn’t make you a fun travel companion.

  • Packing Wrong = Missing the Essentials
    Ever rushed a trip and realized too late you forgot that one thing you actually needed? Relationships are no different. When you rush to dive into something, worrying more about what you're presenting than what you're bringing, you risk forgetting the essentials: communication, trust, respect—you know, the stuff more important than the metaphorical toothpaste.

  • Figuring It Out as You Go
    Here’s the kicker: Love isn't a pre-planned route with Google Maps and gas station snack stops. It's a winding road peppered with detours, flat tires, and the occasional livestock crossing. (Okay, maybe that metaphor got away from me.) But seriously, no one has this stuff figured out. And that’s not a flaw—it’s a feature.

The Takeaway: Pack Smarter, Not Heavier

As Chili-in-a-Bread-Bowl Guy wisely illustrated, life and relationships aren’t about bringing along every possible thing you’ve ever learned. They’re about bringing the right things and leaving space for growth along the way.

Here are some packing hacks I’ve learned (both for trips and for love):

  1. Tidy Up the Baggage: Take a good look at your emotional closet. What beliefs, grudges, or habits are you carrying from the past that don’t serve you now? Toss them. No TSA agent will stop you. I promise.
  2. Pack Your Patience: Love doesn’t apologize for delays, turbulence, or detours—and if you’ve ever planned a road trip with someone, you know this is true. Patience isn’t just a virtue here—it’s survival gear.
  3. Leave Room for Surprises: The best relationships aren’t over-packed or over-planned. They leave room for spontaneity, growth, and yes, the occasional chili bread bowl. (Really, give it a try sometime.)
  4. Find the Fun in Layovers: In layovers and love, there are unglamorous moments—and they’re inevitable. But they’re also where unexpected lessons, connections, or laughter can happen—if you’re open to it.

Conclusion: The Stranger Was Right

Eventually, our flight was called, and Bread Bowl Guy gave me a two-finger salute before shuffling down the jet bridge. That was the last I saw of him, chili bowl in one hand and confidence in the other.

But his words lingered. They popped into my head recently as I stood in the canyon shadow of another Wasatch sunrise, thinking about the people I’ve loved, the ones I’ve lost, and the journey in between. Life rarely goes according to plan. People will disappoint you. Flights will be delayed. Your carefully crafted itineraries (and plans for finding “the one”) will endure turbulence.

But pack right, stay light, and leave room for adventure—and you’ll always be ready to take off.