Earlier this month, I returned to my sacred ritual of writing at the end of a runway, under a full sky at a small airfield in upstate New York. When I arrived late in the afternoon, after 6 long months, it was very quiet and felt like I had the place to myself. Bliss floated in on the currents.
The deep peace I experience there is a combination of the quiet, the enormous expanse of the sky and the delicious presence of massive freedom I feel at every airport. All of these things heal me on the deepest of levels. As I ceremoniously opened my folding chair, reclaiming my space, I felt myself reestablishing my relationship with the sky and this airfield. I need this place and this ritual.
When I took flying lessons, long ago, one of the first things I noticed about being in the sky was how small my life felt and how insignificant my problems seemed from up there. Height gives us wider vision, an entirely different perspective and a sense of detachment, which is helpful in certain circumstances.
Much of what comes to us in life is unexpected. Some of it is joyful and some of it is difficult. What I am learning right now is that, if I can remember the wisdom I acquired while flying, it will help me approach these unexpected circumstances with a new perspective and wider vision. When I merge this wisdom with the peace and stability I feel at the end of the runway, I know that I will tap into much more of my inner strength. I am very grateful for all of these things.
My roots are not in the ground. They are in the sky!