Plane Parlance

Better than the Mile High club

I recently took a trip to Utah and as I was on the plane home I wrote a small piece about flying in an airplane. For me, an airplane is an incredible place because it provides an unadulterated time to think, leading to what I wrote below: (it is a bit purple, so beware) 

An airplane is a rare place. For some, it is a cage, a necessary prison in which they spend their entire sentence anxious of the air that surrounds them. They avoid it at all costs, perhaps because the quiet is too much. Or maybe the reality of being in an inescapable vessel, thousands of feet above the ground is, understandably, horrifying. Others marvel at the wonders of the world below, continually stunned by man’s spectacular willpower: his ability to conceive and create, his desire to destroy. They ponder on the untouched vestiges of wilderness, in awe of what beauty can be found there. For others, It is a place that removes them from the world, leaving them alone to ponder on all the possibilities of their past life, what roads they’ve driven and what doors they’ve shut. It creates a time away from trivial matters and worldly worries. It allows one to be alone with their thoughts, for better or for worse. It provides a few moments to explore the pathways of what could be, each turn providing a different future. The sky allows an opportunity to see our insignificance that is unmatched by any writing, story, or experience. Our minds occasionally drifting to what lives we’ve lived, the movies of important and memorable past experiences play in our head, as the underlying reality of mortality ever-present. In all, an airplane can be a place of unparalleled pontification, a land of self-discovery, if only we choose to embrace the rare experience of necessary helplessness. For, when one is in the sky, he is above time, captive to whatever his mind chooses to do with the silence the cage demands.

And of course, some people watch a movie. 

Yours, 

Pooblius