Long haul flights force you into an intimate relationship with time.
Not forward thinking in years, or months, or even days, but the slow trickle of the immediate passing of time.
The annoying minute by minute moments, which lock you in a battle with the thoughts that come and go (or stay) with them.
24 hours of travel.
My first long haul trip in over a year (oddly).
I typically find I get very anxious when I fly, terrified of looking at the clock and seeing less time having passed than I’d want to.
Faced with the reality of the hundreds, or thousands of minutes I have remaining alone with myself and my thoughts. Disconnected from the outside world. Alone in the feeble attempt at darkness they dim upon the cabin. Trapped in a tin box in the sky.
But this time was different.
For the first time in my adult life I flew with ease. I welcomed the minutes that lay ahead and enjoyed getting lost in my own thoughts. I watched entire movies (instead of anxiously changing them every 10 minutes). I didn’t connect to the wifi. I only got up a few times.
I could breathe and even dozed off for a few hours of (much needed) sleep.
Perhaps this is reflective of the overall shift in my mindset I’ve felt over the past twelve months. Or perhaps I’m finally beginning to develop a level of comfort, or even a positive relationship with the thought of time spent inside my own head.
Life’s quirks and qualms can take a toll on even the strongest of minds. Never stop seeking to nurture what’s inside as well as what’s out.
We all have an incredible ability to change our thoughts and feelings, no matter how dark they are.