Flying Across "The Pond"

My flight from Detroit to New York’s JFK airport was uneventful, though a bit crowded. But that’s what you get when you fly coach, I guess.

By the time I arrived at JFK I was not quite hungry, but knew the food places would be closing at 8Pm, so I grabbed some Burger King. I’d read that the State of New York had passed a law requiring all restaurants to publish, on their menu, the number of calories a given item had. Well, I can now say, having seen it in action, that it was a horrifying experience. I had no idea that a Double Whopper with cheese was over a thousand calories.

I think of eating as sort of a budget, a loose budget it’s true, but a budget nonetheless. I allow myself about 1,500 to 1,700 calories each day. I do this in a very unscientific way. I know the value of some foods (an apple, a piece of bread, about 100 calories) etc. This is part of why I cut down dramatically on my soda intake. But to see even the single Whopper (no cheese) clock in near 750 calories was almost enough to make me not eat dinner. Except that I knew I’d be flying for the next 9 hours, and I needed something in my stomach. And the Sam Adams restaurant around the bend started at about $19 for the cheapest item. So I opted for the Whopper and promised myself at least a week of extra-healthy eating to make up for it. (So far, I’ve done pretty well!)

Once we boarded the plane--only about 30 minutes behind schedule, which I didn’t think was very bad--the seat next to me was empty and the seat next to it was occupied by a young twenty-something woman named Courtney who was on her way to England to play Playstation 3 with an online friend she’d never met before. She had just come from some major gaming convention. She freely admitted that she was traveling from Los Angeles to Manchester “just to play video games on someone else’s couch.” I hoped, silently, that she’d get more out of the experience than that.

The flight was largely uneventful until we started our descent into Manchester. At this point we hit some major turbulence, more than I’d ever experienced in a plane before. I can’t estimate drops and jolts, but it was very similar to riding a roller coaster--except, of course, with no rails beneath us.

And then it happened. Again.

In the middle of my day, someone asks me to help them. A young-ish mother and her two children were in the row in front of the row I shared with Courtney. She put her right hand on the seat in front of hers, to stabilize herself (I thought) and then she put her left hand behind her, into our row, also I thought as for stability. And then she looked me in the eye, and said the in the most polite British accent flavored with panic, “Would you mind holding my hand?” I could feel a warm smile come to my face and I took her hand. “Of course I’d be glad to.”

So here I was, holding the hand of this stranger, during a very turbulent descent, and I felt wonderful.

Connectivity is a major theme in my spiritual path. We are each looking for ways to feel connected to each other in our increasingly busy lives. I lead as busy a life as almost anybody, I’m sure, and there are plenty of times when I feel utterly alone, even in the middle of a city of six million people, like Chicago.

Why do we wait until crisis comes to reach out? Is it because at that moment our twin fears of vulnerability and rejection are finally outweighed by our need to know we are not alone?

We are not alone. We are tied, for better or worse, to our families, our neighborhoods, our places of work and study. We need only to find the connections that are healthy, joyful, and growth inspiring, to make our lives wealthy with living.

Find those people, forge those connections with them, and be filthy-rich beyond your wildest dreams.