The Direction of Intention

78.

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I am in a small prop plane flying to a wedding from Santa Fe to Dallas. I am 20 years old and don’t really want to go to this wedding. I am along for the ride. It is my first time in a small plane and unlike being in a jumbo jet I can’t ignore the fact that I am in a tiny aluminum tube hurtling through the air. That’s why I came along, I wanted to know what it is the fly in a small plane.

We watch a mountain of thunderclouds rise in front of us, like a monster rising out of the sea. The pilot banks left in the hope that we can fly around them but they are moving faster than we are. The dark, angry clouds block our path and lighting flashes around us, the plane bucks. The pilot turns the plane back toward Santa Fe; the storm folds its giant fingers around us and begins to squeeze. The color drains from the pilot’s face. His intense dialogue with the control tower sounds one notch short of an SOS appeal.

I am suddenly very quiet inside. My mind chatter abruptly stops. I realize that my fear of dying is not about dying at all; it is about control of the moment. In my fear I was looking for a way out of the plane and the absurdity of it catches me off guard and I laugh. For a few moments I am intensely aware of every sound and smell; the storm is the most beautiful and ominous thing I have ever seen. I am more alive than I have ever been.

The pilot finds a gap in the wall of clouds and we are out of the storm; ironically, this is moment the mind chatter, my voice of fear, returns like a freight train. However, now I see what this voice really is. I see that it roars when it is invested in controlling things that it cannot control. It has nothing to say that is useful or genuine. If I had followed the advice of this voice of fear I would have jumped from the plane!

I wonder how many ridiculous actions I have taken in my life listening to this madness. From how many metaphoric airplanes have I jumped?

I kiss the tarmac when we land again in Santa Fe – I am happy to be on the ground again but I am especially grateful for knowing that my voice of fear has nothing of use to say.

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