There is a stubborn man sitting on a plane. This man is surrounded by people, yet alone. "Red-eye" is the term for the painful sensation of waking up at 3am, getting a double espresso and speeding to the airport.
This man feels success by acquiring great knowledge from business titans and solving their challenging problems, but he cannot seem to understand his inner sense of sadness. Dark times that this man drowns with endless thinking and drinking, aimlessly wandering without purpose.
Between drinks and games, this man stumbles upon a web site of hope. One beacon of blinding truth: a promise of a better world, a promise of a contract for purpose. The man submits his best effort to an incomprehensible selection process and rests for months in quiet desperation.
Six projects ahead, the man is proud of his game - he belongs in the field, although his work is just a thrill of momentary proportions. The results are promising, the effects are valuable, the raises are warming; but this man is still dull and numb until a letter comes in. This letter says "yes". The man is awake.
Thousands of miles away he has to go, thousands of lives away he has to explore. There is that light, that warmth of hope that glimmers again. For two years this man finds depth in knowledge of science, of people.
The planes are gone. The books are open. The cultures are dancing in a mystified swirl.
The man sits on the grass, typing stories, dreaming love, fleeing regret, and following himself.
There was a stubborn man sitting on a plane.
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