Just own the feeling.
Wait til later to ask: What actually happened here?
What behaviors or beliefs on my part contributed to this situation? ~ Gabor Maté
How is this a blessing/necessary lesson for my evolution?
How can I receive, humbly, with gratitude, this gift? ~ Victoria Stuart
I fled the babble, the losing grip fed
by overwhelming fear flying
high above the continent squeezed
into the middle seat behind a family
from Japan. I admit I eavesdropped
shamelessly, entranced by the first hai—
like my row, the woman in the middle,
big males on either side.
I measured limbs; height can be
in the legs (like mine) or the torso and
standing four-deep in line for the john
behind a man at least a foot taller
than I am, I dared to say sitting
in these seats must be torture,
it is for me–refrain
how tall are you? unuttered
for once in his life and
I measure him anyway when his back
is turned. Mostly, he scans over my head,
a net in his crosshairs—
such an obvious way to cut our
access to first class—tilting an
eyebrow at our exclusion.
Such a long wait and I’m jubilant
to abandon my cramped seat
and zigzag my way—excuse me—
making myself as thin as I can
in the ambiguous borders of the aisle
space sometimes owned by stretches
(feet and wide shoulders, an occasional
head)—sorry my mantra, jazzed
to this thrumming-engine resonance
insinuating its pounding impersonal rhythm
even though I’m deep in meditation.
I find the overwhelm is a gift
only after napping in an artist’s space
exactly at the edge of change
this buzzing plane-hive engenders.