Gazing through a frosted window, I see strange lights in the distance, another unknown town passes by as I wrestle miles above the earth, gawking into the dark sky. My music changes tenderness to hardness. My heart and head are having an argument, and this temple can’t mediate as it should. It’s right there, right there! I could just reach my hand across the threshold and grab it, it’s that close, but I’m too scared to do it.
What is it about airplane flights that stir the emotion within; swirling window thoughts, the memories, the contemplative future, and the dominant thought that won’t leave you; you know, the one that lingers in the background of your every thought. It was masked by the distraction of people and moments of laughter. It’s in front of you, starting you in the face, but you can’t talk about it. You walk away from it, it stalks you. You try to knock it out of your head, but it draws you into fantasy. You run from it, but it comes after you. You give it to God and you give it to God and you give it to God and you give it to God again, and again, and again. And yet it finds you on a plane as you stare out the window.