Volcanic disruptions

My mind has been wandering down random rabbit holes since this whole volcano thing happened. Last time was in 1821 and it went on and off for a year. Imagine now, if we had this on and off for a year. Then, with no air travel, the impact was minimal except one rather cold summer, paintings of beautiful sunsets and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, among other things. Now, the whole world is affected, one way or another.

I think about economic and life impacts, especially for the Icelanders who lived near the volcano, but, as with most people, I am most obsessed with my own little world. My siblings and European friends are enjoying the peace of a world with no metal machines in the skies, which I cannot quite comprehend and can only imagine somewhat poorly. Others are happy that they are still on holiday (extra free annual leave from work), somewhere beautiful, despite the cost impact of hotels for a longer period of time. I am happy for them, truly I am, as I am saddened for people who are experiencing difficulties and are less happy. Ultimately though, I am thinking of me and I wonder if this is a bad way to be.

My boyfriend can't come to visit me until someone offers him a plane to sit on. Going away for three months at a location that was a 12-hour flight away, seemed nothing in terms of distance. Now I have been made suddenly aware of how far away I really am. If all air travel were to be suspended, it would take me 30 days in a container ship to Rotterdam, then boat or train back, I guess. Or if it remained how it is right now, I could fly to Southern Europe, or Spain it would seem, and then come back overland. Suddenly, I am not 12 hours away. Suddenly I am between two days and a month away. This is so much further and I feel upside down on the wrong side of the world from the people I love.

I feel unable to make plans in the future, in case my visitor is able to suddenly come out and see me, all dependent on the whims of the weather, the cloud and the volcano - and, perhaps, the developments of those controlling air travel. I am living day by day, in a world of no plans. It feels free, but it also feels a little out of control. With no illusion of certainty, my world feels unstable and as I type this, I know, my world is no less unstable than it was a week ago. It is just that my illusion has been shattered. So, for me, this is a lesson in reality, acceptance and perspective.

Nevertheless, despite my new found wisdom and zen-like acceptance of reality (cue mild and gentle sarcasm), I plead with you little cloud, try some dispersion. It could be fun. Why don't you give it go?