Recently I had a long flight. It was not one of those thirteen or fifteen
hour flights to Asia. Those are
killers. But this flight was long
enough. I am one of those older folks
who always want to tell people that flying today is not like it was! That is not unusual. Most things today are not like they used to
be! But older folks want to tell the
story.
Of course, in the older days there was no security
control. Families would accompany the
one taking the trip and often the whole gang would go right to the gate. In fact, the family could almost walk into
the plane, say good-bye and then leave.
At least, that is how I remember it!
The other thing I remember is that most people dressed up when they were
to fly. It was almost as if the journey
was going to be a sacred undertaking.
Dressing up was required, like going to church. But in the old days, most of the travelers
were probably business people and they always had to dress up anyway. No doubt, we all put a twist on our own memory.
My recent trip was nothing like the good old days. I was dressed in jeans, sneakers, etc. Security is serious business, so friends and
families cannot get close to that threshold to the skyways. Because you have to go through security, you
usually are at the gate much earlier than needed. There always is a great deal of time to
wait. That is when the people watching begins.
Any poor soul with a very young child is often treated like
someone with a disease. People begin to
pray that the crying child sits as far away as possible when everyone is
boarded! People with weight problems are
also dreaded. Again even the atheist is
tempted to pray, “Lord, please do not let me be seated next to him!” And then there are the folks who seem actually
to be diseased. Some poor people really
are sick. There are colds, sniffles,
coughs, etc. Those are the obvious
problems. Who knows about the really
silent, deadly problems lurking in the bodies of those who will board that same
plastic cocoon (or whatever it is made of) that we all voluntarily enter.
The doors shut and we are captive for hours. Once we are on board, the sick people
continue to be sick. Some even seem to
get worse because of the dry air or whatever.
The heavy folks continue to be heavy.
The kids continue to be kids.
Sometimes they beginning crying immediately and that confirms our worst
nightmare. Sometimes through divine
intervention, they drift off to sleep.
I don’t ever remember a flight---particularly a long flight---being
a spiritual experience. But reflecting
on my last flight, I realized the problem was mine. It took a few aeronautical miles to come to
grips with the fact that the problem was mine.
After all, I am not a kid, not sick that I know of, not overweight. As I saw it, I was the perfect passenger
subjected to a minefield of imperfect passengers! Only by the grace of God and, probably some
beneficent twist of fate would I survive one more long flight.
Reflection brought me down from my 35,000 feet in the sky
perspective. I had to admit that I am
not the perfect passenger. Oh, for sure,
I was a passenger on the plane. But
perfect I was not. And as a passenger
through life, I am not perfect either. I
realized my long plane ride was becoming an analogy for our journey through
life. I had much to learn and, of
course, a few hard truths to accept.
Life is like the plane ride.
We journey through life by ourselves, but often in the company of many
people whom we have not chosen. Many of
them won’t be like me. And if I had a
choice, in all honesty I probably would not have chosen to travel with
them. Some are sick; there are crying
kids; some adults seem crazy; too many are overweight. Some are too tall. I even think some look boring, but I have no
clue how I would know that!
Suddenly it is as if God revealed the mirror into which I
could have been looking. I might be very
boring to someone. I have been sick in
the past and probably will get sick again.
No doubt, I have my crazy moments.
I am not a kid, but there are times when all I want to do is cry. Actually, many of my fellow travelers likely
would not choose me, if they had a choice.
Perhaps we all are misfits travelling on the plane of
life. It made me glad that I am not
God---not in charge. I prefer being graced
to being God. I vowed to use this long
flight as an opportunity for developing the self-discovery I was
experiencing. Could I learn to be
graceful instead of grumpy? Could I
learn to accept every person on the plane---and on the plane of life---instead
of selectively wishing some would not make it?
Being spiritual is a tall order. No wonder it is a long trip. Self-discovery is typically the first
step. But it is only the first step. The next step is the first step into the
beginning walk into the love like God’s. I am taking baby steps, but I am
moving.
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