Good News
I’m reminded of the good in humanity as I board my flight to Phoenix on a sleepy Missoula morning. A mother with a red dragon tattooed up her neck — powerful indeed — makes her way to her row. Her roller bag catches on a seat she passes by and the woman between us bends down to correct the wheel’s course. I, now behind her in boarding, pause some rows back so she knows I’m in no rush and she can take her time in the aisle. Baby on her chest, backpack settled on her shoulders, roller bag in tow, and a paper plate loaded with french toast strips in hand, she arrives at her destination. The necessary discombobulation ensues to settle into her place for the flight. I continue past her row some strides and hear a gentle Can I grab anything for you? peep out from the kind face of the window passenger, her temporary neighbor. With a sigh she responds with an eager yes and I feel the relief in my own bones as I too release my breath.
Being a neighbor is never temporary.
I board my next flight. It’s oversold, unsurprisingly. To the back of the bus I go. I point to an empty middle seat to the kind face with headphones on. She smiles and rises to the aisle. I reread my ticket and blush with embarrassment. I’m so sorry, I’m actually in row thirty-TWO. I swear I can read. She giggles with me. Thank you.
Two rows later, I take my seat. Overhead bins snap closed as the plane swells with travelers. I look up as a family arrives to the row in front of me. Two small children stare around wide eyed as their super hero mother manages baggage and their seating arrangement. A flight attendant comes to talk to the father.
His ticket is for seat E (a middle seat across the aisle from his wriggling offspring). The couple discusses who will be on immediate child duty on the other side of the aisle. Mom volunteers as tribute. A look of quiet loss floods the father’s face as he turns away from his kin and toward his seat. The man on the aisle swiftly unbuckles, lifts the arm rest, and without a word begins to scoot to the middle seat— seat E. He says I’m happy to switch seats if you want. The father accepts the offer and reciprocates a breathy thank you. After taking his seat, the father reaches over the aisle and places a comforting hand — I’m right here — onto the older child already deep in play.
Kindness is so often free.
I’ve received and unbelievable number of compliments from strangers today. The grocery store and airport were loud with you look cool and I like your look. Sure, I liked my outfit today: faded teal cutoff shorts, pink legwarmers, running shoes, a favorite cutoff band t-shirt, my trusty yellow spectacles, and a cap with some desert themed art on the forehead. A cool outfit perhaps, but it is one I’ve worn in variation on rotation over the last several months with no attention from passersby. The difference was in my internal state of being manifesting externally. I was a joyful, meditative, and utterly content self and it oozed out of my very pores that evening. I liked my look too.
We gave and gave of our good energy and look at the bounty we received.