Flying. Over I-95 N.

Posted on by Live & Learn

runway-flight-airplane-take-off

Friday, February 6, 2015.
3:00 a.m.

I’m startled by the alarm.
No, not startled, rattled. It’s rare that I need an alarm, at any start time.
I’m groggy and already working against a shot clock, at 3:00 am.

I shower.
The 6-inch rainwater showerhead is gushing. The water is ripping hot.  But I’m unfazed.
It’s Day 3 on the road. I’m averaging 5 hours of sleep a night. Ok, maybe 4. And its catching up.
Comatose Man. Wound tight. Coiled. Shoulders heavy.

Need to get home. My House. My Bed.

I stand in the shower, eyes closed, letting the water wash over my head, my neck, and my back.
Heavenly Shower.
The morning meditation is interrupted by the clock, my consciousness signaling a waiting cab in 20 minutes.

My original flight, a non-stop to LGA, was scheduled for 11 am.
This, of course, was unacceptable for Restless Man.
Man alone wants something to happen at all costs—something, anything.¹

I’m re-booked on a 1-stop via Miami, pulling up my departure to 5 am.
You should arrive at the airport no later than two hours before your flight.
That’s 3am.

I shave, wary about slicing open the thin skin on the left side of my chin.
10 minutes to Taxi.
I zip up my carry-on, and scan the room one last time. (Don’t leave any gadgets behind)
My hand’s on the door. You forgot something.
I drop my bag, walk back into the room, and set some bills on the counter next to her card. Hi. My name is Migue.
Miquela (Sp. translation) = Who is like God?

I’m off to the airport.

The security check-in, the waiting area, the take-off, the flight, the landing in Miami, the re-boarding – – a blur.

We’re back up.
AA Flight # 1133 Y MIA LGA.
Blue skies. A Blue like no set of man-made color palettes can produce.
I slip my ear buds in, and wind up my Ólafur Arnalds’ playlist.
My eyes are burning and heavy.
I lean against window, and doze off.

I’m awakened by turbulence.
I peak out the window, blue skies.
150,000 pounds of man-made marvel, is being battered around like a Piñata.

Please take your seats and buckle your seat belt.
We expect heavy turbulence for another 50 miles.

This is a 737.  Boeing’s workhorse.
A 737 takes off or lands every 2 seconds around the world. 
I need this one to land too.

The chatter on the plane ceases. Silence.
I look out the window. Blue sky.
The turbulence continues to roll the plane.
An elderly lady in front of me grabs her daughter’s hand.
There’s murmuring coming from a few seats back. Prayer.
I re-grip my arm rests, and turn the volume up on my music player.

Get Home. My Family. My Bed.

The plane continues to roll from side to side. Anxiety is boiling in the cabin.

I look out the window. It’s calm. A cool welcoming blue. Smooth and tranquil.

And at that moment, the plane levels out.

Captain: Sorry, folks. We had a bit of rough air that I couldn’t avoid. It should be a smooth ride the rest of the way into New York.

The stewardess returns down the aisle rolling her cart with soft drinks, pretzels and cookies. The chatter resumes at a lower vibration.

I look back out the window. The glorious blue sky is shimmering, marked with spoonfuls of the whitest of white clouds.

George Burns and John Denver flash into memory from a scene in “Oh, God“:

Jerry Landers: If you’re God, how can You permit all the suffering that goes on in the world?

God: I don’t permit the suffering – you do.

I lean my head against the window, the aluminum cool on my cheek. My fatigue has migrated to a lightness. A peace.

My last thought is of warmth, of Family, of Home.

A Heavenly Shower of gratitude washes over me.

My eyes shut.

And I fall into a deep sleep.

Notes:

43 thoughts on “Flying. Over I-95 N.”

  4. Great story. My B-1B flying nephew often says that taking off is optional, landing is not.
    And… George Burn’s court room soliquoy puts that movie, as silly as it was, in my top five favorites. Thanks for reminding me about it. Get some sleep.

  5. I read an article that listed getting enough sleep as one of the seven best things you can do for your heart. Another one is meditating, to which I would add having gratitude. Your writing is meditative and descriptive, drawing me in to the experience. I heard (and grunted at) the alarm, was sitting next to you on the plane. Out of modesty, I skipped the shower 😄

  7. If you fly enough, you’ll have a few of these moments when you question why we still fly!

    “A 737 takes off or lands every 2 seconds around the world.
    I need this one to land too.”

    My new turbulance mantra, thank you David! Turbulance is one thing that can still reduce me to prayer. I have always been sure that I will die in an airplane, not matter how many times I run the odds.

  8. At least it was an old workhorse, they usually find their way home, and not a retired Tupolev with screws jumping out of the aluminum walls with the rattle of the plane. Beautifully written, David.

  10. Another beautiful piece of writing, pal. Like Carolann, I was startled by the darned alarm clock, hoping you had applied enough shave cream, and anxiously chewing my lower lip as we bounced around in the turbulence. You have SUCH a gift for communicating the emotion and immediacy of the moment–glad that you’re back on terra firma in the company of your loved ones. Have a great Sunday!

  16. Thanks for this, there’s a familiarity about it. Thanks too, and I forgot to say this, the Ólafur Arnald link in another post. Mystical and strange; the sense of breathing in Loftið Verður Skyndilega Kalt

  17. Wonderful writing David…as others mention, and as I’ve said before, it’s like I was there- you describe it so well. That feeling of turbulence, and the thoughts, awareness and emotions in those moments. Love too, how you wove in the reference to wanting something to happen, anything…

  20. ” I look back out the window. The glorious blue sky is shimmering, marked with spoonfuls of the whitest of white clouds…I lean my head against the window, the aluminum cool on my cheek. My fatigue has migrated to a lightness. A peace.” Wonderful, descriptive writing David.. In the midst of the experience, the Restless Man.rose to appreciate the beauty of the sky at that moment and accepted the surrender to peace as you drifted off to sleep, inbound…..

    1. Well researched and written Caitlin. This stuck:

      The problem with light turbulence is that it can turn into severe turbulence in a matter of seconds. Those not securely strapped into their seats can, and have, flown into galley carts, arm rests or the ceiling, breaking hips, arms and noses and risking concussion.

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