Soaring with the Angels

We have lift-off.

I write this from 30-some thousand feet above the ground, on a plane with five of my favorite friends, heading to an adventure. And even so, there are people who embrace  the out of control sensation of traveling and then there are those so frozen with fear and anxiety that you do not want to cross their path.

One of the latter is sitting in front of me.

A lovely older lady, I am certain, but the busybody flight attendant had to inform me and Karen that she asked quickly in the beginning of the flight if he could ask us to be quiet. Stop talking. Too much fun-loving noise.

Aww, lady, so sorry. We’re just enjoying one another’s company. And there is so much to say when you’re not in the office and you don’t have to work right this very moment. I understand if something in your life has you tied in knots.

So I offered to buy her a glass of wine to calm her nerves and satisfy her desire to shut us up. The flight attendant’s answer: “You don’t want a grumpy drunk in front of you.”

Um, ok.

But my thought was that if I extended a kind hand, or a show of generosity, she might soften. People usually do. The grumpy sales person at the counter of your favorite store really doesn’t hate you. So when you smile bigger in the face of their angst, you only show them that the world won’t turn on them, even when they’re hateful.

I know, it’s a hard lesson, but I’m heading on vacation so I can look at things from a bird’s eye view. (Pun, intended.) 

In fact, life is too sweet to be taken so seriously. I understand if lady grump in the row ahead is nervous about flying. Perhaps something catastrophic happened in her life recently and she just can’t shake it, so our cheerful banter is disruptive to her frown train.

No matter.

I am heading off to spiritual Sedona, Arizona to commune with nature and God and my friends and the truths that live inside us all but hide behind our workaday frustrations and madness.

I am hoping that, after this trip and the next one (to India, in a couple weeks), I can bring this sunshine aura into the everyday and see things for truly how they are. 

The other night, as it snowed mercilessly, Dan said, “I’m just grateful for the heat.”

It came out of nowhere, so I asked him to repeat. We were standing in our new bathroom, which has yet to have a shower door or a shower head and we were discussing how the plumbing supply shop promised us the fixtures in a week and now, 6 weeks later, we are still waiting for the shower head.

“I’m just grateful that we have a home where the heat works and we can come out from the cold.”

True that.

I say it so often here in this blog but I mean it every time. Life is good. Even when it’s bad. Life is really, really good.

We are a gift to ourselves and to those around us. And every single person who walks into our lives is a gift, good and bad combined. The frustrations are a mirror to work out our own crap. The difficult moments are the most wonderful of all.

The sun is shining on the wing of the plane. I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked out the window and saw a flaxen-haired angel sitting there, face turned up to the sun.

No I haven’t downed too many cocktails on this flight. It’s a natural high. Way up in the clouds.

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