Shoes on? Shoes off?
In the moment of tackling my fear of flying and my fear of
flying alone (no offense, other 149 people on the plane), the security line
shoe thing plagued my brain. I kept trying to see what other people around me
were doing…the line wasn’t moving, so nobody was really doing anything except
listening to incoming passengers talk about how they would need to leave time
for this security line when they went back to the airport for their return
flight.
My anxiety rose, and I figured ok, let me text somebody or
something.
My phone wasn’t in the outside pocket of my bag.
It wasn’t in the pouch with my bullet journal.
It wasn’t in the bag with the extra charger and cords.
I searched my bag about 8 times (while scooching ahead a few
inches every few minutes). I could feel my pulse in my head, my panic rising,
my mind racing.
In a moment of revelation, I remembered. Right before I
walked out the door, I put my bag down on the futon to check to make sure I had
my boarding pass for the 87th time—my phone had been in my hand, and
I placed it on the seat of the stationary bike (2 feet from my back door) so I
could check my paperwork.
And there it stayed.
Now, admittedly, the first 2/3 of my life, I did not have a
cell phone. Until 2.5 years ago I did not have a smart phone. I know that
civilizations have risen and fallen without such technology.
But the phone was meant to be my lifeline on this trip. I had
carefully chosen soothing music and uplifting podcasts to get me through my
crazy brain on the flight. YoYoMa and
Oprah were going to fly with me! I had Candy Crush. I had the directions to the
hotel in my phone (I had gone to print them out and then decided not to).
Panic.
And worst of all, I could not call anyone to say help!
Side note, there are no payphones ANYWHERE any more. Even at
gigantic international airports.
I knew Dave was flying down on a later flight, and that he
would see my bright pink phone as soon as he walked in the door. I knew that
another cheer mom would be on my flight, I could at least call Dave before we
left. But all of my plans of zen were sitting on a bike seat at my house.
The best laid plans…
But weirdly, my massive panic/anxiety about forgetting my
phone helped me. Stay with me here—in not having my phone, I had to regroup,
focus my energy on getting through the present moment without a panic attack,
and Do The Thing. I knew this was going to be work, but I was all in now.
By the time we got on the plane, I focused on breathing. I
watched the flight attendants (who are so together) and all the relaxed people.
I got my gum—I never chew gum, so the novelty factor of that was distracting.
And then I took my bullet journal and started to draw. As we sat, I drew. As we
taxied, I drew. As we sped up I thought
of the cheer mom who told me that at the moment of acceleration (when I tend to
see my life flash before my eyes) she wants to say BEEP BEEP!! In celebration. I wrote motivational words and drew clouds
and the dragon that I was going to befriend. I had to be in the moment.
And it was ok.
I am still a little shocked, but it was ok.
Like, really ok. Not the 3 hour panic attack of my last
flight.
The clouds were beautiful. The flight did not feel as loud or
crazy as my last flight 8 years ago. JetBlue has Dunkin Donuts coffee. And I
kept drawing. For about the first 90 minutes of the flight I doodled and drew
and focused on befriending the dragon. It was ok. It was all ok. Planes are
safe. I am brave. It is all ok.
And in the words of the Little Red Hen, cluck cluck, so it
was.
I was relaxed. Not asleep or anything (SUPER AWAKE), but
relaxed. And you know what? People at the airport helped me. The rental car guy
wrote directions for me on the back of the receipt—old school!, and I got
safely to my hotel driving a car that looked like a shiny red box of candy
(Dave was not amused when he saw the car I was willing to take, but it actually
drove pretty well , and we never ever could lose it in a parking lot). It was ok.
In the last few weeks (especially as I’ve gotten into the
season of Lent), a lot of my reading/listening has referenced the importance of
present moment awareness, of authentically and fully being in the moment you
are in. For me, the lost phone forced me to be in the present moment in a way
that was ultimately helpful for me. I had to work through my fears in a way
that was NOT the way I planned…but I did it.
So much of my life in the last many, many years has been
spent in a struggle over fear of the future, fear of the present, fear of the
past coming back. This is the reality of
life with a chronic catastrophic illness.
I make lists and calendars to help me feel in control of life, but at
the same time these distract me from being in the moment I am in. Over the
years, the present moment has sometimes been really dark, and clinging to
future hope is challenging.
Escaping the current version of me by looking
ahead/back/around is not a recipe for becoming the best version of me today. I
have to be present in each moment to do that. I have to be in the moments,
uncomfortable, challenging, and great, to really figure out how to live most
authentically.
So while I do not plan to become a jet-setter anytime soon, I
can see myself getting on a plane again. At the end of the day (literally, late
that night) Dave brought me my phone, and I had it for the ride home—but I did
not really use any of the stuff I had planned. I didn’t need it (and I had used
up all my nervousness on my flight getting cancelled and then having to spend
10 hours in the airport, but that is another story for another time). While I
am on the ground now, I am trying to find more ways to be in each moment—something
I thought about months ago, noticing the little things, fits into this—and I
will write about that more another time.
Increasingly, I know that zen and being in the present moment
is something I have to work towards—there are a lot more dragons I need to
befriend.
