I make life decisions on planes.
It's possibly because being on a plane, the mild turbulence and gentle alarm sign to put on my seatbelt
Jolts me into a realisation of how fleeting my time is
How short this 90 minute plane journey could cut short my life
My closest near-death experience
Well, more like a spiralling thought since I'm not responding to any real threat but just the one my mind allows me to conjure up in this free of outward stimulation zone
I think about my purpose
And how many people spend their lives without knowing the true meaning of the word
Is my version the right one, is there a right one and does it even matter if I call it a pursuit of meaning and you call it the pursuit of happiness and to another there is an endless suffering, in which they're just about getting by, the pursuit of survival then?
Are we different - different privileges, leading to different lives
Maybe others make their life decisions in trains instead of planes, or cycles instead of cars
I listen for the thunder outside the window
As I lean my head against the curved surface of glass
The discomfort of this aluminium box looming
My song playing itself thin on loop
Not giving up, it knows it'll move me today
Lead me to yet another existential question
Yet another "why this, why now, why me" feeling
And time will stand still, once again, as it always does
In these minutes that feel too long, every breath a journey in this box of metered oxygen
I will identify the love of my life and realise what about me is holding me back - my need to believe that I'm enough by myself not allowing the dependence of another, not at all, for the fear of loss
The fear of losing out consumes me
It keeps me from seeing what I have
And hence never lets me miss it when it's gone
My functional dysfunctionality let's out a sigh
The person near me wonders if I too am bogged down by this delayed flight
I assure them the flight time on our tickets are such that despite delays we'll miraculously arrive "ahead of time"
I wonder if life is just about that - over promising, underdelivering, yet manipulation of facts that makes everyone feel a little better
We live in an "everybody wins" world, when no one really is
The purpose isn't winning though is it, it can't be
To be my own number one seems like such a futile game to be playing
I was already born my number one, striving for it is like chasing my tail, when I'm never quite going to catch it but I don't need to catch it because it's already a part of me
I find home when I'm on a plane - the one I'm leaving behind, the one I'm headed towards, the pieces I carry with me and the ones that I'll never return to
I find answers to questions I otherwise forget to ask myself, because when the world is spinning I'm running along to keep pace
In the silence of this airplane, late night dark-moon light
I'm reminded of myself, my alone not lonesome self
Reintroduced to the little voices that speak to me when I have my noise cancellation headphones strategically placed on to avoid the sound of babies crying and airhostesses giving me instructions I believe I'm all too aware of
Frequent flier and all, you see
Wouldn't survive a blowing of jacket/open emergency exit door moment even if my life depended on it, literally
I should listen more.
I should listen more, in my life
I should be prepared for a world that isn't always kind and gentle
For a real life of risk
Where turbulence feels like a breeze,
And airplanes don't feel like a box of reflective suffocation
But my world is safe and loving and all encompassing
Where I speak and love and give and take, trading in relationships everyday
So on planes, I stop,
And I listen for myself instead.
