Years ago when I took the airplane from California to France, the airplane's behind-the-seat entertainment monitors were not working. It made the nine hours and forty-five minutes flight a challenge. Nine hours and forty-five minutes! I did not bring any books as carrying my laptop and camera was enough for this one-arm bandit to muscle since I had a broken wrist. Unfortunately, my carry-on was stashed away ten miles back by the airline stewardess's hideout. I didn't want to bother them by asking them if they could take my carry-on down for me, then put it back up for me, then to take it down again at landing… I am shy about those things, Nine Hours and Forty-Five minutes shy.
To pass the time I thought of nothing, something I learned at the monastery. Not to say that we didn't think about things in the monastery. Rather, thinking of nothing, silencing the mind as a form of meditation. To sit with stillness in utter silence. Silencing the endless rattle of thoughts in one's mind.
But I ain't no saint, and after about an hour or so, I was ready for action.
The magazine in the front pocket offered some refuge. I took some (these) photos with my cell phone. The man next to me gave me a funny look. I leaned over and said, "My daughter." He sat up straight and said, "Impressive." I winked, then poked him with my elbow and said, "No, just teasing." And he gave me a bizarre look and said something in Norwegian.
I wanted to poke him again saying, "Chasing boredom." But I decided it was better to leave well enough alone.
Then my mind rattled on as if trying to fill the silence I had made earlier by meditating.
Endless mindless thoughts such as: "I love the oversize buttons on the cuffs of the coat (above), and the little hat too. Though the strap on the hat would make my double chin look weirder if that is at all possible. I like the furry vest look on others (isn't that how it always is?) those furry vests make me feel like I have on a linebacker's shoulder pads. I would never hold a dog… though it is cute."
After several minutes of rattling thoughts and taking photos of the magazine, my cell phone's battery went dead.
I passed the next century sitting, looking out the window at the endless black evening sky tracing distance lights as if they were stars in reverse.
Before landing I grabbed the magazine again, I imagined if French Husband's would react differently if I came home wearing this.
Dang, that ain't no potato sack.
Then I found myself laughing, French Husband wouldn't even notice if I had on a skinny mini, or a potato sack, or even if I came off the plane in plastic wrap with a cherry taped here and there.
Then a light bulb came on inside of me. Finally, after twenty-some years of wishing he would notice if I had on a skinny mini, or a potato sack, or plastic wrap with a cherry. I realized he loves me the way I am. He sees me for me. What a beautiful, happy naked truth that realization was. I am free to be me a not so skinny mini, in favor of potato sacks, and do not have to wrap or do the plastic thing to keep him loving me.
But still … nine hours and forty-five minutes and a morsel of good food for thought, His loving me is one thing, but still, I wished I had some plastic wrap just to see if he would react.
I am kind of nutty like that. I would wear plastic wrap but not dare ask the airline stewardess to bring me my carry-on.
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Now, years later thinking back to that time when I flew with boredom, mediation and the man sitting next to me thinking I was crazy. I wonder how the flight will be to California with Chelsea, Gabriel, and Olivia. I wonder how we will endure the long trip. Either, we will have hours of playing and cuddling. Or wishing we had time and patience to be bored.
Chelsea has been preparing Gabriel by telling him about the big plane, and what to expect. Gabriel said since the plane is big we should take chairs, a table, baguettes, cheese, his bed, books… »
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