Self Observation – at 29,000 feet

So here I am, 29,000 feet over the Mediterranean Sea, blasting through the atmosphere at 573 miles an hour in a big silver cigar-tube with a body in every seat – yes, Every Seat –10 seats to a row, not sure how many rows, but a very long plane. I’m in the seat closest to the window, there is a young guy in the middle seat next to me, sleeping … a BIG young guy, not fat, just wide, taking up some of my tiny little space. The left side of my body touches his, the right side of my body has an inch or so between it and the skin of the plane. He’s also taking up the whole armrest, plus leg spillover – on each side of him. The dude is big.

The debate in my head:
I can get irritated that what little space allocated to me is not fully mine. I could push back, nicely of course (unless he doesn’t get the point), making sure he stays strictly in His Allocated Space (which would be next to impossible). OR I can enjoy the youthful vitality of a nice young man and begin a connection and another adventure into the unknown.

How about complaining about the greediness of the airline – treating people like cattle in a feedlot, inhumanely cramming as many people as possible into as tight a space as possible. Yeah, I can get into that – easily. OR, I can be glad the airline industry knows how to do what it’s doing – delivering people long distances in fairly short amounts of time – safely.  All of which enables me to do what I love doing.

While I’m on a roll, why not resent the non-profit foundation for being so stingy they won’t support their field personnel by up-grading tickets on a 20-hour flight, so I’m not so wasted by the time I arrive? Yeah, what about that? Or I could appreciate the fact that the non-profit is picking up a rather expensive airfare, so that people long distances away can have the benefit of the coaching program they want.

Truthfully, the second part of each of the 3 paragraphs didn’t occur to me, until I started writing down my gripes.

Taking it another step further. I could have said no to the whole trip many months ago. However, I said yes, knowing that it would be a long trip; one I’ve taken many times. I said yes to traveling tourist.  I could have upgraded with my air miles. I didn’t even think of it. Why should I expect someone else to take better care of me than I am willing to take of myself? I said yes to not knowing who would be sitting beside me on any leg of the trip. Believe me, I’ve had worse.

I said YES. And I have the option to change my mind at any time and say NO. Saying NO won’t change a dang thing, except my internal landscape. I still would have the space I have right now, the numb butt, the sore tailbone, typing with the computer propped on my tummy because the person in front of me has reclined their seat back, reducing my tiny space even more.  And I can make myself miserable in the process, spewing out my negativity into the ether. OR I can be grateful that I have my earphones, my iPod, my computer, and that soon I’ll be with my buddies in Johannesburg. I can be grateful that I had 8 hours between flights to stretch out my body, lie down on a little couch-thing, put on my sleep mask and catch a little shut-eye – not too shabby. 

AND, if it matters that much to me, I can start a campaign to raise people's awareness, beginning the process of change.

So many choices – at the beginning, during the middle, and even at the end!