I began writing this post from 38,000 feet in the air, 42 minutes before we landed in Los Angeles. In my last post, I told you that my family and I are spending some time here this summer, and what is especially significant about this trip is that it’s the first time all five of us have flown together.
My kids have never been on a plane before, something my husband and I delayed on purpose. Now, they have collectively reached a stage where we felt semi-confident they would behave. And for the most part, they did.
And, they reminded me of something important: How I experience my life—from the big adventures to the mundane—is primarily up to me.
I love to fly, but it also makes me nervous. There’s always a moment, or a hundred moments, when my mind travels to the absolute worst thing that can happen. But it’s difficult to be afraid when your children are laughing and squealing “Weeee” during takeoff, like they’re on a ride at the fair.
Caught up in their excitement, I pointed out the window and said, “Look!” as Charleston got smaller. Then, as the plane turned and tilted (which can make me feel like we’re about to fall from the sky) I heard myself say “Weeee!” too, instead my default, “Dear God, please don’t let us die today.”
On the long flight to Los Angeles, we sat in the very last row. I typically hate flying in the back of the plane, but I discovered it’s great when you’re with kids because it’s next to the bathroom and the flight attendants—the gatekeepers for extra headphones, pillows and blankets, apple juice, and coffee.
On the way back to my seat after assisting my daughter in the “flying potty,” one of the flight attendants asked me, “When’s your birthday?”
“October,” I replied.
“Ah, you’re a Libra,” she said. “I knew I got a good vibe off of you.”
Maybe the good vibes she felt had something to do with the month I was born. But I also think she was sensing the present-moment me. I found it interesting that she picked up on and felt that energy. Present-moment vibes are apparently contagious.
The following morning, I finished writing this post while sitting inside our West Coast beach rental with my chair pointed towards the big window. From my safe and comfy perch, I admired the sand, ocean waves, and other early risers gripping boards and heading towards the surf.
The truth is, the present-moment in me is fleeting. She comes and she goes. But in times like these I realize: This is my life, happening right now. The invitations to participate are everywhere. So, as I watched the world wake up, I understood that as nice as it sounds to be in the moment, it’s not a passive thing. I have to accept the invitation.
So I got up and claimed my moment. This summer, my RSVP is YES.