July 23, 2026 – 1425 – In transit, somewhere above earth.
I’m sitting here on an American Airlines A321EOW airplane. I upgraded to first class on the second leg of a two-leg trip from Jamaica back home to Colorado. The comfort is undeniable. More legroom than regular seating, more elbow room, comfier seats, an actual meal.
On my first flight, from Montego Bay to Charlotte, we couldn’t upgrade, and part of me didn’t want to, either. It wasn’t unbearable by any stretch of the imagination. But it is cramped. The service is very basic. I didn’t grow up with the means to afford things like first class. However, now that I have gotten to a stage where I can afford some luxury, I find myself enslaved to it. When luxury becomes familiar, it begins to feel necessary. Which is why part of me didn’t want to upgrade. But it is also undeniable that a three-hour-and-change flight is much, much better in first class.
There is something so peaceful about seeing the clouds. About being at the same height as the clouds.
I recently turned forty years old. I also retired from a twenty-year career in the Air Force and now I’m in that transition period, both professionally and as a human being. From a professional standpoint, it is time I take everything the Air Force and life has taught me these past forty years and build my legacy. That’s not what this journal is about. Not specifically, I should say. The other transition period is turning forty.
When I think about it, forty is a pretty arbitrary number to consider significant in my life. However, currently, that is the age one hits and begins to reflect. I wonder what causes that effect. Because it is not just me, or one person, or a country. It’s, for the most part, everyone. Everyone hits this age and it’s like a vail is lifted and the countdown is suddenly revealed and we begin to take stock of how we have lived our life and what we hope to do on the “second half.”
I’ve started this journal now because lately I’ve been doing more and more reflection on what my life means. Not just to me. Or my son. Or my wife. Or anyone that has crossed paths with me in any shape or form. But rather, what is the impact of my life on earth. For earth. I’ve realized that while I am not pursuing a life of influence and power, the impact of my life, a life, is there and it matters. The goal is to leave a record of what it was like for me to cross this lifetime, for those who know me, those alive now whom I will never meet, and even those not yet born. The journals kept by Lewis and Clark and the reflections Marcus Aurelius left in Meditations have reached me across centuries and helped inspire these notes. I do not place my life beside theirs; their words simply taught me what a gift an honest record can become.
It’s called notes from the crossing because I’ve come to understand life as a series of crossings I must traverse. Be it physical, psychological, spiritual, etc. I am constantly crossing vast spaces and the outcomes of my crossings can seem cruel, lucky, arbitrary, mundane. They are all of that and more. I am crossing this vast experience we call life on earth and I have no clue, what so ever, what comes next. So I figured I at least take the advice from Paulo Coelho and Bad Bunny and focus on the crossing (as opposed to the destination) and take a ton of pictures along the way.
My aim is to be able to preserve the perspective of one life on the human condition in the 21st Century, here on earth. Agnostic of nationality, gender, race, age, etc. I aim to preserve how humans today think, feel, engage with one another, deal with conflict, adversity, atrocity, evil, good, etc.
What it is not meant to be. It is not a manifesto of any kind, it is not meant to be used as a source material, is not meant to be taken in any other spirit than that which I intent as a writer. A recollection of my life, a single life. Imperfect and incomplete. Accurate to the best of my recollection and true to my feelings, thoughts, beliefs, and attitudes.
I have but one hope for these notes. I hope they serve you, whomever you are, in whichever way they can serve you. Every life matters. Hopefully my life has something to offer yours.
Dre 
Leave a Note in the Margin