We hit turbulence

Dear Trent when the plane hits turbulence,

Just because the people around you are bothered by the bumps, it doesn’t mean you have to be. You’ve been here before (one of the perks of traveling so regularly). For better or worse, you’ve been here before. (Although I’d venture to say it’s “for the better” in this situation, because I imagine you’re sitting there in your Economy seat feeling pretty unbothered.) What flight number is this for you? Like 100? Maybe more? This certainly isn’t your first rodeo. This isn’t the first time you’ve hopped in the saddle of this here bucking bronco. So don’t feel the need to assume the terror of all those around you. It’s not that their fear is “wrong”. In fact, it’s completely justified… after all, you’re sitting in a sheet-metal tube utterly rocketing through the dark sky. (Although Chris will have you know that this new Airbus A320 is equipped with the latest altitude-stabilizing technology, which is why your ears don’t pop like a backed-up volcano when the pilot comes on the intercom and tells you to “fasten your seatbelts, we’re heading back down to Earth, folks.”) It’s just that you’ve been here before, so you have a larger denominator of evidence. You have a higher “n” to support the claim: “Don’t be afraid. We’re going to get through this.” These bumps, this rocking, the whole cabin shaking, it’s NBD in this instance because you’ve braved stronger quaking. But even though you don’t feel the same degree of fear as your less-frequent travel partners, do your best to empathize with them, rather than boast about your “Diamond Premier 1K+ World Commander Status.” Remember a time when you weren’t feeling this strong. Remember a time when you didn’t feel this sense of peace, when you did think sh*t would go wrong. Remember a time when you might’ve sh*t yourself amidst this turbulence. This “Remembering when” won’t cause you to be weaker. This “Remembering when” will help you see them clearer. It’ll increase your capacity for empathy, then move you to act with compassion. Because this loving act becomes inevitable when you can see the you in them from back then. And that, right there, is the world you want to live in: the one where kindness is the default and compassion becomes the resulting action. Again, to get there, you don’t need to trade your sense of calm for the terrified state of your next-chair neighbor. You’ve got to ensure that your oxygen mask is secured first before reaching over to help affix theirs. But once you’re set, once you’re solid, once you’re breathing - slow & steady - reach out to help those around you… and then keep on expanding. Remember, you want to live in a world where “the world” ain’t so scary. But you’ve gotta start with yourself, then your friends, then your neighbors… (Oh! And don’t forget your family!)

By the way, remember when you used to hate plane flights, when they felt like a nuisance? An obnoxious disruption of a finely-tuned routine? Remember this the next time you’re tempted to judge the stressed-out, “obnoxious” Karen from check-in. Just because you like flying now - because it gives you a sense of silence, stillness, solitude, and space - remember when, remember when, remember when plane flights weren’t a setting of such simple solace. Remember when you used to want to just get through them, constantly asking yourself “are we there yet?” as you cratered through space. Remember this “back then” when your neighbor is tapping the armrest while you’re trying to rest. Don’t be quick to judge. Rather, remember when, then move to compassion. Now that you’re on the other side of your Boeing-induced anxiety, it’s an opportunity to show up for your neighbor. Maybe make a move to help assuage their fears? Maybe consider leaning over & breaking the sound barrier? Maybe consider sharing the wisdom you’ve gained through your real-sky experience? Maybe consider offering a gentle touch and a “Hey, don’t worry too much. Everything will be ok. I remember when…”

Your (middle seat) mate,

T. Happy

P.S. - remember when you used to think that, if you just stressed out hard enough, then you could end the turbulence? Remember when you didn’t know how to surrender to what you couldn’t control? Remember when you thought that sort of “giving up” would make you a “quitter”? Remember when you hadn’t ever embraced that feeling of letting go?