This day was mostly
dedicated to a long flight to Boise. The waits at the airport, the layover, the
boredom. I actually didn’t get in until
11:15 that night. I did, however, enjoy the flight from Denver to Boise. As I
often do, I waited until I was last to get into line to board the flight.
Southwest has open seating, so by waiting until the last of the line, you can
survey the plane and passengers, then decide where you’d best like to sit.
Sometimes that
means getting crammed in next to people, since you passed up your opportunity
to grab a nice free aisle seat. But more often I find that I can look at the
faces of the people on the flight and decide who presents the best opportunity
of a pleasant flight.
That was the case
with this flight. There was a wonderful spot near the back of the plane where
two young, attractive, college aged women were sitting with a seat between
them. I could tell they weren’t traveling together but rather arranging
themselves so as to create a sense of safety. It’s usually unlikely that
someone will fill that spot between them…until I walk onto a plane.
That’s just the
spot for me.
Erin and Jana were
their names. I was right. They weren’t traveling together. Jana was on her way
back home to see family in the far northwest. She would get into Washington
very late that night. She shifted in her seat, and I wondered if she was
uncomfortable in close proximity or just tired of traveling. I asked her if she
was all right, and she said her back had been bothering her. Traveling all day
from the southern states to the far northwest wasn’t helping.
I sat there quite a
while deciding if it would be too forward to offer her a back rub. I know when
I’ve been traveling like that the best thing in the world would be for someone
to let me lean forward and just put pressure on my lower back with the palms of
their hands. I sensed that I felt uncomfortable offering such a somewhat
intimate gesture to a perfect stranger.
That’s an anchor
for me. The moment I feel a sense of discomfort or even (god forbid) fear
over a venture, an unknown outcome, I realize that my life is shrinking and
trying to prevent me from venturing out to the exciting fringes of the world
around us. To me, the only thing to do is to face that feeling and show it that
you will not cowtow to fear and the mediocrity of life that comes from
accepting the restraints of your comfort zone. If something scares you…do it
immediately.
I said, “Jana” I
don’t mean to seem forward or make you uncomfortable, but can I offer to rub
your back? The look on her face was well worth the price of admission. She sat
there silent for a moment puzzling over how someone could be so brash. I
watched her puzzle and wonder and try to decide if she was comfortable facing
down the intimidation of her comfort zone. Her eyes said she would love to have
her pain taken away and feel the relief of a strong back rub.
But she gave in to
the confines of her social box, and I watched the look on her face change to
one of appropriateness, politeness. She said very sweetly but with notable
reserve, “no that’s okay, I’m feeling better now.”
Two things: First,
I’m glad I faced my trepidation and won. It makes more of you. Second, It’s a
shame that we can’t all be honest and free from social restraints. Her life
would have been made better if she had been brave enough to step outside her
confines for just a few moments. Imagine the
relief on her sore back. Imagine the exhilaration she would have sensed.
Imagine the memory she could have taken with her. Imagine the story she could
have told her friends who would be so impressed and jealous that she met a
handsome stranger on a plane whom she’d never see again and accepted a warm and
enjoyable backrub.
I’m convinced we
should all learn from babies and dogs. They exist in a place where they can
give and accept affection without trifling over expectations, protocols, and the
social walls that lock us into solitary confinement, a four-walled cell that
robs us of the sunlight of uninhibited human interaction. Even when we see a
window or someone opens the door of our cell to let us out, we’ve been trained
to stay there, afraid of what’s outside that door. We’re like a baby elephant
with a chain on her leg that she cannot break. And even later in life when
she’s grown, and she could easily rip the chain from the wall just by walking
in the direction she chooses, she’s been so conditioned to believe that chain
is unbreakable that she’ll never exercise her freedom to escape the tyranny of
her captors.
I urge you to walk
strong against that chain, friends. Watch it rip from the wall. The next time
someone opens the door of your cell, don’t be afraid to walk out into the
sunlight. Even if it’s only for a moment…you’ll be better for it. I know you
will.
Jana was stuck in
her confines. Erin was not. They were like night and day. Jana was darker
complected with auburn hair and a quiet, solemn face. Erin was very light
complected with light blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes and a warm, friendly
smile. She began a conversation with me before I had even had a chance to
speak.
She was a med
school resident, on her way to a friend’s wedding in southeast Washington. She
had attended Tulane for her undergrad and an even more prestigious school for her MD. She was
brilliant and had a brilliant energy about her. She had also been traveling all
day, however, and was exhausted. She pulled a blanket up and dozed, eventually
leaning over against me as she slept. I used the quiet time to talk with Jana,
and marveled at the difference between the two women.
When we got off the
plane, Erin walked by my side out to the baggage claim. We talked the entire
way. The woman was a joy to be around. She walked past the last security check
and another doctor friend of hers was waiting for her, a young, good-looking
man in scrubs. She ran up to him and he leaned down and wrapped her in his arms
in a wonderfully sweet, warm and friendly hug.
They were so happy to see one another. The whole experience really made
my trip worthwhile. I’ll never see her again, but neither she nor I were
chained to the wall or locked in a cell. That’s a beauty of experience you
should feel.
Coming into Boise
late at night, I hadn’t run out of energy. I went walking downtown in a light
rain. I wandered around their wonderfully re-gentrified downtown until I heard
a crowd of people having a great time. It was in an upstairs pub called
Fatty’s. The college crowd was there for “Beer Pong Tuesday.” I watched the
tournament for a while, sat at the bar laughing and talking with the bartender
and a couple of guys next to me, and texted my buddy, Bear. It was 1 in the
morning though, and he was at home in bed with his bride, getting rested for
the conference we were both attending the next day.
I left Fatty’s
behind and headed back to a very comfortable room at the hotel where I fell
asleep to the sound of the soft mountain rain.
Great day.
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