pause and presence

I struggle to be present.

And it gets worse as my attention seems to default to a fractured state. Attention seeking alerts for emails, chats, apps. Competing priorities. My brain wandering (sometimes willfully) off into the hallways of bit-bobs-and-books yet unwritten that are held there. Sometimes I find I have no idea what someone has just said to me.

I want to claim it is the pace of life, the work, the <waves hands around> state of the world. Regardless of these factors, I do have a choice to be intentional with my presence. I promise I am not intending to be rude. I am just off processing everything and nothing all at once. Rarely do I pause.

“Pausing creates a momentary contrast between being completely self-absorbed and being awake and present. You just stop for a few seconds, breathe deeply, and move on. You pause and allow there to be a gap in whatever you are doing. Throughout the day, you could choose to do this. It may be hard to remember at first, but once you start doing it, pausing becomes something that nurtures you; you begin to prefer it to being all caught up.”
—Pema Chödrön

This past weekend (Aug 8) I set off on a brief travel [more on why for future posts]. I am not a good traveler. I have quite a bit of anxiety. Not partial to unknowns not in my control. Systems are reliant on parts that break with sometimes cascading effects that mean you could be left sprinting for a connecting flight or delayed until forever. None of that happened, but my brain has to process and plan being ready for any divergence.

Anywhoo, enough of my neuro-spicy for now.

This trip I made a conscious decision to TRY to be present. No matter what - I wanted to connect with whatever and whomever I encountered as the adventure unfolded.

Quick data on trip - destination Sacramento
Way out: CMI to ORD -> ORD to SMF
Way back: SMF to DFW -> DFW to CMI

Leg 1 CMI to ORD: Wes

I saw him in the waiting area for the flight out. Thin, long gray hair, glasses, camo shorts with a snap-button shirt tucked in and snug belt. Sometimes he was sitting in a wheelchair and sometimes walking around the benches that lined the waiting area.

I thought at first he was part of a larger group of travelers who seemed to all be connected and heading to the same destination.

As the time passed and the waiting area got busier it was clear the flight would likely be at capacity. All these people, different, alike, strangers, related, seasoned flyers, Nervous Nellies (raises hand). Off we trundled once called, schlepping our possessions and collectively trusting that we would walk off the plane to find a bathroom and coffee at our next destination.

My seat was next to the window, not a preference, but the small connecting flights even in the aisle seat you are basically next to the window. I got all settled, immediately put on my seatbelt as a good rule follower does, and stared at the seat next to me wondering who I might share this short hop ride with. Please, I thought don't let them be grouchy. And then, I thought...nope...instead let me have a presence of openness to whoever they are right now, today.

His name was Wes. 82 years old from Salt Lake. He was in the Air Force back in the 70s and was stationed at Chanute for a short time. Wes was traveling home after visiting his daughter in Southern Illinois for about 5 weeks. We became aquatinted when I offered to help with his seatbelt as one arm was just not working at 100%.

15 years ago he had a stroke. He lives alone. Surrounded by great neighbors who help him around the house, get his mail, make sure he gets where he needs to be. He is "not crippled." He just has to navigate the world differently.

We talked about many things, including my reason for heading to Sacramento, all the way to ORD. Once we stopped, I hopped up and grabbed his bag from the overhead. Walked out with him to make sure the wheelchair assist came and we said our goodbye's. I will never forget his precious face as he smiled at me with earnest encouragement.

Off I setwith my newly purchased "legal" sized carryon wheelie-do suitcase. I thought I would never see him again. Few moments later...he and his airport staff have caught up with me. Dang do they push people FAST through the airport. I had to jog to keep up (short-legs). Wes and I just giggled like children and I ran beside them for a short time. And then he was gone, lost in the sea of moving humans, luggage, carts...

Leg 2 ORD to SMF: Lydia and Katrina

This flight was full. Maxed out. I was already in my seat when the tall and larger guy came to squeeze over to sit next to the window.

A seat between. I thought, wouldn't it be amazing and nice for both of us to have the one seat left on this plane to be empty and it would be between us? NOT because he was smelly or unkind, but the seats are small and the flight 4 hours.

Everyone was seated. Luggage put away. Rule followers have their seatbelts fastened. The seat is still empty. I had just started to believe it might really happen...

Down the aisle comes a flight attendant followed by a woman carrying a child. And I knew...last seat...last.seat.

Internal monologue Mags: 'Oh great! This gonna be fucking amazing. Glad I have my headphones.'
Internal monologue Mags: 'STOP. NOPE. You are going to be best friends with these amazing humans.'

She dropped the bottle as she was trying to get into the seat while clutching the baby to her chest. I picked it up. Helped get her seatbelt settled. Smiled all the charm, honest concern, willingness to help I got directly at mom and baby.

Lydia and I were fast friends. 10 months old, curious, strong, observant, friendly. She spent her time playing with me, resting her hand on the giant arm of the guy by the window, playing with the tray table and eating the peanut butter puffs her momma, Katrina, had brought.

She threw her shoes at me, Lydia threw her shoes, not Katrina, it was a fun game. We watched parts of Boss Baby together. She let me give her feet and hands little kisses - offering them up as the prizes they are for Aunties like me.

I saved my free in-flight cookie for Lydia to have once she woke from her nap. Parts of that cookie ended up somewhere in front of us...but we know nothing.

Katrina and I spent the flight talking about our lives, our journeys, religion. Her husband is from Israel and is Jewish. She was raised around Islam and Christianity. She, like me, had little interest in formal religions. Agreed that we see them less about the teaching of anything divine and more about controlling, demeaning and diminishing what is truly divine within us.

Over and over Katrina would say, 'Mags you are so kind and patient.' I said to her, 'this right here, how we are connecting and being open and real about where we are right now, this is how we all should all be...all the time. It is about being present, human and seeking the human in others. Kindness follows seeing the human right next to you. We are all in this together and we must take care of each other.'

Plus I am a sucker for intelligent little beings with wonder in their eyes and seemingly endless curiosity about the most mundane things like setback tray tables.

I hope Katrina got her In-and-Out Burger and she had an amazing time visiting family. I know Miss Lydia is going to be a force in this world, especially with Katrina as her Momma.

Leg 3 SMF to DFW: Dianne

I upgraded my flight to first class. Look, I know. But it was a once in a lifetime journey I had made and they gave me a good deal.

Summary of first-class: it is very very nice and I was out of place. I could for sure get used to that...easily. But my budget, alas, is not first-class.

Dianne sat next to me in 1C. She first asked me to read her ticket to be sure she was in the correct spot. She told me she doesn't like to fly and didn't want to be in first class. (Curious.)

Seat-belt rule follower like me and immediately put in her AirPods.

We didn't talk the whole flight. Not even when lunch was served. I could tell that Dianne needed to not be present to make it through the flight.

When we started our landing descent I could feel her whole body tense. I put my hand on her arm and said, "I am here if you need me."

Leg 4 DFW to CMI: Derek

Almost home.

He was already seated next to the window and I immediately knew we were family.

No, it wasn't the shoes that gave it away, though that they were part of the whole outfit was helpful. Also, queer people just know...we just know.

Derek and I talked, I think, the whole flight (approximately 2 hours). He is about 10 years younger so we share experiences of the dangers and wonders of coming out before there was much queer representation in popular culture.

If the rest of the first-class cabin area didn't have their AirPods on noise canceling they got some first hand (by being naughty eavesdroppers) experience about what it means to have come out in the last 30 years and to live an out queer life today. Recognizing, as we did in the conversation, our levels of privilege. Including the he could pass as a white, straight guy. I cannot pass which has a whole layer of extra stuffs.

It was an incredible cap on a quick trip about discovery. Coming back on a flight with queer family meant kinda everything. Oh, and his mom's name is Maggie. Seriously...seriously.

There is lots more to this trip that I will share in coming posts. I wanted to start with how pausing and being present opened me to experiences with wonderful humans that I would not have had, would not have had my heart grown, if I had put on my noise canceling headphones and buried my face in my phone or laptop.

No shade on those who do. Sometimes, like Dianne, you just have to. I suppose it takes some level of courage to literally open up. Peel back your chest from your hunched over state, shift your gaze up and look at the beauty and sometimes ugly that surrounds you. To pause, breathe and be present right now with whatever and whomever.

I will forever remember and wonder about Wes, Katrina, Lydia, Dianne, and Derek (though we are now FB friends - heh).