They sit in the seats in front and behind me as they read apps on their phones, play games, watch movies, read a real, hand held book (rare), magazines, and others sleep. A few looks out the window. Some close the little windows and their tiny corner becomes a darker place.
The partition, white and bare blocks my view of the front cockpit and the tiny kitchenette on the small jetliner. My one-hour duration of the flight to St. Louis, MO, I realize it is a privilege to fly without someone in front. At the same time, sitting in the space of nothing, also prevents me from grabbing anything from my black carry on, which holds my books and highlighter.
Inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
Below the jet, the white and gray puffs of cotton float, separate as we pass through them, and continue their job of cushioning the angel’s feet. We continue passing them, and looking down, seeing the shades of dirty green and brown grids of homes, land, and forests below appearing as if they are bits of plastic staged in a museum. However, they are real and fully functioning.
Inconsequentially, so.
Life is moving at a normal pace below the jet. People returning home from work, school, or heading to work, dates, or other activities.
No one worries about the flight overhead as it graces the rooftops with a shadow.
We are inconsequential to their existence.
Unless, of course, they were on their way to catch a flight. Ironic, actually.
Not many stop and gaze into the sky and look at the clouds. Grandparents might point to shapes in the sky, encouraging their grandchildren to see and dream of floating animals, houses, cars, and boats. The imagination is brimming if one uses it on a regular basis. Children, often immersed with television, social media, video games, or so on, limit their imagination.
It is inconsequential to “their” here and now moment.
In fascination, I gaze out the oval window again, and see the shapes of the clouds. I laugh inside, remembering my mom and her stories. She never thought her words mattered, really. She would speak them, giggle, and minimize any thoughts with a simple phrase, “I’m just a country girl from Missouri” and become bashful.
She felt inconsequential.
Who told her she didn’t matter, words she giggled out and shared didn’t matter, and why is it a ‘bad’ thing to be a country girl? Is there a status quo about location, which makes us better than others?
No matter, I suppose it is inconsequential to the grand scheme or is it?
We, humans roaming upon a fragile land, driving vehicles, running for political parities, screaming out our opinions and bashing others, some doing humanitarian work and serving the country with a Military zeal, others fighting wars in their own homes, facing domestic violence and psychological warfare, and others, starving in the US or in other countries.
We humans believe we are essential and needed. We believe we are important and put ourselves on a high pedestal. Only to fall flat on our faces when we realize we have backed ourselves in a corner. We who chant, pray, verbally abuse, sing, shout, and salute in different forms stand in judgment of others who do the opposite of us, because they don’t matter as we do…they are inconsequential to the end game.
Flying above the clouds, snowy lands or fields below me, I begin the descent into a frozen world. I realize we put a value on what matters to us, even if in the grand scheme of things, it matters to no one else. We stand for something, even if no one else does and we cheer those who follow our lead. Life is fragile. Time is of the essence. If we have the chance to lift someone up and bring a little hope to them, what a better way to see the world. After all, the beautiful gift of life is far more precious than shouting how unfair it is when faced with struggles beyond our coping mechanisms.
Life is inconsequential until it enters your door, wakes you up, brings you awareness you never thought possible, and shortens your days by tragedy.
If you were given a suitcase, to pack, to take with you and you knew, you would never return from where you left, and your suitcase was a small carry on, what would you take with you? What items matter the most to you and would make your life worth remembering?
The items you leave behind are what are essentially inconsequential to your tomorrow. Can you begin to consider today, a day to shift and begin seeing life as a brighter, happier future, one choice at a time?
As I finish the thought above, the flights have ended, I am home again, and the cozy place I relax and feel myself is once more graced with my presence. I will unpack soon, to begin another week of life. What would I pack, tonight, if it were my last night and I had to choose?
I know you cannot pack your family into a suitcase and memories are vast in our minds when we tap into the storehouse. Photos, clips, special items, heirlooms, and other treasures begin to scream for attention.
When we look out and up into the daylight sky and see clouds flitting by, remember how we value the time spent with family, even when we fly to see them. Minutes or hours are spent catching up and cheering our loved ones on and then we resume our lives, after flying again far, far away. And we see our suitcase is beckoning for attention.
We may not know exactly what to put inside the suitcase we take on our adventure to what matters most, however, we can begin to think about it in terms of what is essential and what, of course,
…is inconsequential to our tomorrow. You choose.
~Just a thought by Pamela
—
Previously published on Medium.com.
—
Have you read the original anthology that was the catalyst for The Good Men Project? Buy here: The Good Men Project: Real Stories from the Front Lines of Modern Manhood
◊♦◊
If you believe in the work we are doing here at The Good Men Project and want to join our calls, please join us as a Premium Member, today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—
Photo credit: By Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash