Flight journal-stream of consciousness questions in the clouds.

Flight journal-stream of consciousness questions in the clouds.

On takeoff, as the earth rushed underneath me and the draw of gravity pulled my attention in my window seat 32F, a question struck me- is it ok to die today? Would I run into Mamma and Pappa’s arms? Would I be at torpet? Would there be flowers and yellow clogs and juice and cinnamon buns and red and white houses and yellow buttercups and blue and white checkered tablecloths?

Would I worry about those left behind or would it open the world to them? Would life continue despite dying? Would it be eternal summer and my own version of paradise and would all be well forever and ever?

Would this be an ok moment to die? Would I let it happen and plummet to earth yet fly to the heavens? Would peace abound, astound and surround? Would I let go and give in, give up and sigh to it? Would it all stop and turn black or would I want to go back?

Would I be conscious or conscience-less? Would I recognize and understand or lose myself in confusion? Would my brain unravel slowly, spirally or dwindle, diminish in a whimper and whisper? Would I cease to be or be more me?

Would I feel boiled, clogged, harmed, alarmed, swarmed, smothered, aloof or blissful, ignorant, surrounded, astounded, abiding, loving, quietly forgiving, allowing, not knowing, no longer questioning or trying- just dying?

Would I be a child? Or a wild animal? Would I be alone or at home? Could I take time, say goodbye or just stop? Into blackness. Or would I see sun and clouds and lakes and birds- the birds my mother saw when she was dying- would I join her there over coffee?

Would we be then?

Would we be now?

20130821-201014.jpgn

2 comments

  • I wonder how many of us contemplate dying as we give ourselves over to the dubious miracle of flight. Take offs, landing and turbulence bring me to the brink of those thoughts.

    Sometimes I wonder….
    ….would it just be easier to have that sudden end to the struggle of this life?

    But I always want to have just one more day. One more day. Keep flying plane. Land safely pilot. Drive carefully taxi driver.

    Make sure my dear friend Kat has one more, then one more, then one more….

    ….many, many more days.

Submit a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s