A New Look

Just own the feeling.
Experience it.
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.

Inspired by:  Crosshairs, Eyebrow, Ambiguous and Obvious.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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