Exactly where I need to be, exactly when I need to be there: a travel journey that reminds a mindset.

First off, I remind myself again and again to stay grateful and humble, to recognize both what I’ve been afforded in life and also what I’ve worked hard to create.

Standby life is no exception. And it takes a unique mindset, and a willingness to adjust perspective and stay nimble — of course also considering flexibility in other aspects of life.

Thanks to my good friend, I’m able to book standby flights on a major airline carrier. Keep in mind, it’s a bit of a game. A seat on a flight is never literally confirmed until I’m in it and the door is closed.

I was planning on heading out of Reno back to Dallas after a snowboarding vacation with some friends in Mammoth. However, I woke up to the news of flights into DFW being cancelled because of tornado warnings, strong wind gusts, and heavy rain.

I started to think about my options. If a ticketed customer was experiencing flight cancellations and a delay of a day or two, I knew the likelihood of getting out as a standby passenger was incredibly slim.

I checked flight prices to maybe book a confirmed seat. A day in advance, one-way flights were all about $600. And any that day were already cancelled because of the weather.

And I couldn’t spend time in an airport for days when I needed to work — not only do I have an obligation to work, I greatly enjoy the work and the collaboration with my team, responsible for producing many timely communications projects.

So, I shifted my mindset from “stuck in Reno” to “an opportunity.” Again, I recognize I’m afforded this because of both the life I’ve created and my current privileges and ability to work remote. I always travel with my work computer and portable monitor because, well, you ever know what might happen. And I need to be able to login to work.

I rented my house out fully on AirBNB, so I could use that as a means of income in these moments. With my house renting out, I could potentially break even to pay for lodging in Reno. This could make it possible to work remotely, experience a new city in the evenings and/or weekends, and still maintain the financial health I strive for.

I know I work hard. I stay flexible and committed to my work and social life.

And I also love travel and experiencing new cultures, new places, meeting people, and hearing new perspectives.

So there I was. I took “stuck in Reno” to “opportunity in Reno,” and I tried some great restaurants and even checked out an old mining town: Virginia City.

Most importantly, I empowered myself with the confidence that I can succeed at this, that I am capable. I continually remind myself that I’m exactly where I need to be at exactly when I need to be there. It absolutely fluctuates and doesn’t always come easy. Even in this case, it took a moment or two of pause, to find my breath, to recenter, and to trust the journey.

After a few days in Reno, once the weather cleared up, ticketed passengers for DFW from Monday were taken care of, and I had time away from work to attempt flights again, I planned my flights to Orlando.

I was aiming my best to make it back to Orlando for an event that wasn’t on standby: my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary celebration. It started at 1pm EST.

Not a pretty list of segments, but I booked a trip Reno to Phoenix, Phoenix to Charlotte, Charlotte to Orlando: flying throughout the night to make it to Orlando in time.

Well, I didn’t make it in time. I knew the Phoenix to Charlotte segment was risky. It looked very full. And once I made it to Phoenix, not only was that flight full, so was the next flight to Charlotte, and also the flight through Miami that would have gotten me to Orlando early the next morning.

It was 11pm PST and there were no more flights out of Phoenix. Nothing even with connections to get me to Orlando by 1pm EST the next day.

I sat at the gate, as the screen for the last flight to Charlotte said “flight closed.” Another moment to find my breath, find peace in the present, and consider my next move.

Then the gate agent from the Miami flight walked by, she saw me: “Oh no, Ryan, you didn’t make this one either, I’m sorry.”

This agent knew my name. She understood the situation. I asked her, “There aren’t any Minute Suites either at this airport are there?”

“No,” the agent replied. But she advised I walk over to the upper B gates. “There are benches there without arm rests. Hold your backpack with your laptop as your pillow, and there won’t be anyone over there besides the cleaners.”

She told me she was a retired cop, too. I trusted her and walked over to B28. That was my next move. I was rolled over to a morning flight direct from Phoenix to Orlando.

Again, as standby, it’s never guaranteed, but it looked like they’d have one seat on that one and at least it would get me to Orlando without any more connections.

I cozied up as best I could, at a bench that felt like the right place to sleep that night — outside B28. And I focused on my breath, told myself to get some rest, and that I’d wake up and try for that next flight.

8:30am PST and the last passengers were boarding the flight to Orlando. I still waited. Hopeful. Sitting there by the gate waiting for the green box to light up my name on the standby list or for the gate agent to call my name.

“Ryan Hines,” I heard. Yes!! I was getting on. In this standby game, that was the winning moment. I rushed to grab my backpack and duffle bag, and I boarded to claim that last seat.

I may not have made it by 1pm to my grandparents anniversary celebration, but I still have to trust that I’m exactly where I need to be exactly when I need to be there. I may not fully understand the reasoning of that in the present, but I hold onto that belief.

I made it for the after party: hung out with my closest family and had a good time on their dock as the sun was setting over the lake.

One rough night of standby life doesn’t negate the many, many immense opportunities it has afforded. I’m so grateful for these moments, even if it does include a night sleeping outside gate B28.