Family

I woke up this morning with a new family. Babies crying, five year olds running up and down the aisles, moms breast feeding, people sprawled all over the “house” in general disarray – some still sleeping, some just waking up, some already into their morning prayers, some stretching what they could where they could.

airplaneI’m on a flight from NYC to Sao Paulo, Brazil and when I went to sleep five hours ago, I was in a flying movie theater; now I wake up to this bustling family of man waking up to another day at 32,000 feet.  The sun pours through the few opened windows as we ride atop a rich layer of frothy white clouds.  There must be an ocean down there somewhere, but if it is, it’s hiding for the moment.

Last night I went to sleep among strangers; this morning we are surprisingly family. Well, after all, we did sleep together. We rode across the sky together.  Few things changed, but now we’re talking to one another – some in English, some in Portuguese – we’re playing with each other’s babies, whereas last night their crying was just a nuisance to us all.

Breakfast is served by a particularly ornery stewardess (we’ll call her Mom, but not to her face). I’ve been watching her on this flight and she is definitely not a happy camper – clearly a woman who hates her job.  The baby across from me delights not with her breakfast roll, but rather the plastic wrapper it has arrived in.

My banana seems very pleased to be returning home to South America after its life journey, but then I devour it, and it is no more. Ah, such is life – the transference of energies. The endless eternality of this life essence. I eat to live another day. It turns out that the banana’s life purpose was to take this trans-continental journey back and forth just to feed me in the sky.

I wonder if my own life has such a relatively simple purpose. Here today, gone tomorrow. How many of my family will make it back to earth? How many of this happy 230 will make it through another day. I hope all, but here at 32,000 feet, the gamble is a bit more riskier than usual.

I pray and know that God is in control, that Mind governs – not jet fuel or “2 General Electric CF6-80C2-BB turbofans each generating 63,500 pounds of thrust.” I focus on this infinite Mind that is the source of all right ideas, that invented this amazing travel craft in the first place and know in my heart and mind that the idea behind this 767 air buggy is perfect and in order. With these thoughts I protect both myself and also the precious lives of my new family.

And now the grumpy stewardess stops by to pick up my garbage. I say goodbye to what’s left of my friend, the banana (the peel), as Mom Grumps removes it from my tray. Suddenly, for she must have guessed the banana’s and my pre-destined relationship, she breaks out into the most endearing smile that brightens the flight deck. All is well with the world.

The cloud cover has vanished. South America lies below in its greens and browns and mysterious voices.  Children play – up here, down there. Babies get back to the job of crying bitter tears over relative nothings.  Brothers and sisters turn their faces to the windows in patient anticipation of further family and our sky captain (perhaps Dad?) announces that Sao Paulo awaits us on the ground in ten minutes. Uncles and aunts scurry about prepping to land. My other friend, the stewardess, Mom says, “Time to shut it down.” Wheels down.

It looks like I’ll live to post another article on this blog. The family of man returns to earth.

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