Well, day two in eastern PA and I am officially traveling. On the flight from Denver I sat next to a woman from Estes Park who turned out to be a wonderful person. It's always awkward to me that first few moments your sitting next to someone on the plane. I never know whether to give my new travel companion space or to just jump right in to introducing myself. My natural tendency would be to strike up some small talk, but then comes the fear of being "That Guy". You know the one. The character in every airplane movie scene that tortures there seat mate with their over bearing friendliness and incessant chatter. All of a sudden I see my self as Dell Griffith from "Trains,Planes,and Automobiles", and instead of saying anything I retreat to awkward smiles and peruse sweating. Lucky for me this time I came prepared with a book which is a trustee tool in the battle against social anxiety.
Still I couldn't help myself and as soon as we took to the air I began blurting out random attempts to engage my seat mate into conversation. Being a kind person she accepted my clumsy and obvious cry for attention and by the end of the flight we're having a great discussion. After going on and on about myself and my trip and my life I caught my self rambling and tried to switch my focus to finding out about her. I learned that she is a happy wife and a mother of two, and that we have mutual friends in Estes, go figure. Turns out she is on her way to New Jersey to visit an old friend who has only a month to live due to a bout with Cancer. I admired her for being so brave and candid about such a difficult topic and tried to offer some solice in the form of insight and humor. In my experience death has been like a forest fire or a volcanic eruption. At first the destruction they cause is devastating and traumatic, but over time, from the ash comes an abundance of life that thrives off the environment that the destruction has caused. To me it helps to recognize life imitating life in this way, it takes away some of the uncertainty and helps me to find a sort of balance and purpose to it all. It seems, the more death a person experiences the greater opportunity they have of experiencing the depth and wonder of life.
When the flight was coming to and end, in an effort to leave her on a positive note, I told her about all the human kindness I had encountered in the few days before my trip. It was true, in the four days prior to leaving Boulder, i had been thrown four going away parties, and had been gifted over $600. Some came from friends, some from family, some from coworkers, some from total strangers inspired by my trip. It was truly humbling to receive in such a way, and I wanted to share my appreciation with her in that moment. She responded by saying that it was funny that I had mentioned it because she had been planning on giving me some money when we got off the plane. I was embarrassed by the idea that me sharing my gratitude might have made her feel obligated and so i told her. She assured me that it was not the case and I decided to take her word for it. When we got off the plane we said goodbye and she handed me some money, later that night I realized it was $60. Again I felt embarrassed, but I reminded myself that learning to receive with grace and humility was an important part of being able to truly give, just as death was an important part of being able to live.
