returning

When we parted
(my tour group of 7 weeks)

they were annoyed by all my questions.

but maybe I should have expressed myself clearer.

All the questions I was asking about my flight--
about where and when to go,
were coming from my deep fear of separating for the first time.

being alone again.

not traveling in a group----with a purpose.

Here I am on the airplane

by myself

crying

because I’m so afraid.

It hurts so much to say goodbye to people I love.

I wish I could keep everyone in a pile in my living room where we could cuddle all day together.

The flight attendant came by to ask if I was ok.

She said--if you need to talk about anything. I am here for you.

I can’t express how much she warmed my heart.

The woman next to me said---are you afraid of flying too? I’m so afraid.

I said--it’s not really that.

I’m just afraid of life I guess.

I’m afraid to keep meeting people--

to keep opening my heart to them--

and then to separate.

I know that this is a reality of life--

that everything passes.

that people flow in and out of our lives.

but I would like someone to stay.

just one.

please.

I am flying home.

I am returning.

but what I return to I also will get to briefly hold and then let go.

Was this trip just one long practice of saying goodbye?

does it get easier---or will I at least appreciate more each very precious moment

before it gets washed away.

As I continued to cry, the woman sitting next to me said

“I’m afraid of flying---but mostly when it gets bumpy and turbulent.  Once I was on a very turbulent flight with my mom, and shortly after she passed away. It wasn’t from the flight of course, but I associate the two, and now I’m afraid to fly.

I told her I’m sorry that her mother passed away.

She said, I’m slowly learning how to live without her.

Then we talked more about turbulence and transitions, as we were suspended in clouds of the inbetween. 

This nurturing connection with a stranger only came because I was crying and feeling scared to be alone.

I revealed my pain, and then she revealed hers---and now my heart feels so much FULLER.

The flight attendant came back at the end to make sure I was ok.

actually.

I am ok.

now.

mostly because of her and the woman next to me.

because of the brief but generous spirit of strangers that remind me that intimacy and connection is everywhere I go.

maybe I will find a compassionate flight attendant on my next journey telling me that if I need anything at all---

“I am here for you.”

She is here for me.

and I am slowly learning that I am here for me too.

That I create my home by always returning back to myself...

-by being true to my inner experience

-by crying when I need to cry

-by expressing fear.

When I open myself to pain and sadness the world then opens up to me.