Travelling On / in transit

since a while, i am working on a collection, the focus theme of it is 'in transit'. and now i just came across these lines from Ajahn Sucitto, a monk who blogs, and in his recent post, wrote about being in transit:

At the airport, my identity is reduced to a few documents and a seat on a plane. I have no money - the key to the 'ordinary' world - and therefore no choice but to go with whatever happens. The helplessness has a liberating and truthful quality to it: I take note of the throng of people from all nations as we transit through all going somewhere else, and consider - well who belongs anywhere anyway?

So who, or what, do I sense myself as being? Isn't that also in transit? Isn't that estimation of nationality, value, relationships, and history just another boarding pass - like Gate K2, Economy Class, seat 43F, time 18:30 - on Kamma Air? And where is all that going?

-- Reflections Ajahn Sucitto / Travelling On
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