A lesson in perspective.
Occasionally, not every time, I get dreamy on planes. I mean, I get that little twinge of excitement at liftoff as the plane lurches off the planet and we get airborne. The big city shrinks and the loud belching highways turn to silent silver threads scrawled across the land.
The land! You can actually see the land; contoured and cut in ribbons and whole forests stippled like heads of broccoli. It’s a miracle. It’s like coming out of a bunker. And it’s not Google Earth – it’s better. The sun is still shining, clouds are swirling past, the water below shimmers like a new penny.
I fly infrequently enough to still be smitten by these glimpses. During the blessed space between tarmac and cruising altitude, my mind following the lift of the plane gains altitude too. A dwindling effect ensues. I think about my life below, with its dozen pressing concerns. Up here, they’re less pressing, less daunting, and honestly less important.
The giant ledger of dates and deadlines is dwarfed by the view below; of mansions the size of packing peanuts and cars the size of ants — going so slow.
This is the mind on airplane mode. I like it. Have you ever watched, in a trance, as a balloon cuts loose from the earth and meanders up into the sky until its lost? It’s like that here, but in reverse. It all looks so miniature — so dare I say, peaceful?
While the magic lasts I tap my wife beside me. Look at those cars, I say. Look how small they are. Where are they going? Where are they rushing too? What are they thinking about?
These aren’t philosophers riddles. They’re just reminders to keep things in perspective.
Thank God for planes; and not just because they get us places – but for those tiny square windows that help us see our lives from afar.
show & tell 