head in the clouds

“… and our in flight entertainment this morning is a dolphin’s tale…” the flight attendant trails off into the background.  heads bob in & out of sleep.  the snap of seat belts relieve passengers from their rigid seats. tray tables lower by a click.  seat backs recline.  and baby sleeps soundly, sucking her susu. asleep in the seat in between her dad & i, in a nest of clumped receiving blankets & sling.  a makeshift basinet, perfectly fitted between the two of us.  safe. peaceful.  quiet.

life is good right now a way up in the sky, amongst the clouds.  airstreams bend effortlessly over the wings of our tired plane.  it flies constantly, four round trips day & night with out rest.  only rests when it’s broken.  too expensive to afford the luxury of a day off.

 

i read.  i dream.  i nod off myself.  i could stay up here forever.  up here where the sun always shines regardless of the temperamental weather brewing below.  anxiety creeps across the chest as i begin to think of all the worries that await me below.  i shove those thoughts into the overhead compartment with our hand luggage.  i just want to keep my head in the clouds.  up with the sun & the stars.  above it all.  whirls of white cloud spiral & dip. blue sky as far as the eye can see. 

baby girl reaches elbows above head as she stretches spinal cord & limp muscle & then settles back into her happy slumber.  after such a glorious respite, one must have a glorious return.  i must come back changed i repeat to myself.  i can’t come back the same way i left.  all frazzled, frustrated, exhausted.  life had worn a hole through me.  i’m scared to come back to what i left.  i get out a pen & attempt to scribble out a plan.  locate where i went wrong & right it.  paper blank staring at me.  i don’t know.  i don’t know what went wrong or how to fix it. 

booming voice startles as it cracks through the pa “this is your captian speaking… unable to land for another 20 minutes due to severe fog, we’ll circle around for a bit until we can make our approach…”  the cabin pressure intensifies as parents begin to regret their children’s early start to the day.  babies fidget & fuss.  children unravel at the thought of staying stationary much longer, ready to get back to living real life they are, convulsing at the thought of living life from a quiet, thoughtful chair.

half an hour passes and a hush befalls the cabin deck as we rapidly descend for our approach.  it is eerily foggy.  we cannot see a thing.  no light other than the blinking beacons on the tip of the wings and then… boom as rubber collides into asphalt. touchdown.  everyone claps for our captain who landed us without a visual… but certainly not without sight.  as we all know, it was the air traffic control tower that should really get the credit.  the pilot just had to trust. 

and now the rubber hits the road for us all as we roll our carry-ons off the hanger.  dream collides into reality & reality contends for the dream.  i may not have it all together, all organized & labeled.  i don’t quite know what my life is suppose to look like yet… but it’s a good thing i have the best traffic control tower at my service.  sometimes all you need is an afternoon in heavens to know where to look while grounded on earth.