While Flying Home

I am in an airplane among many distinct people, all coming from separate starting places, having, by record, no formal connection, when the experience begins:

I feel a warmth enter my body - an intense kiss of pleasure – not mine to keep but like lips full and present - I turn my palms over to inspect my fingers, their tendons and veins, their etched skin. I have an instance where I cherish them.

Instead of retreating I grow quieter - I hear a voice, mine, telling me that though not myself I am still intact- I open as the plane tilts and a low ray of sun pierces the west-facing windows, filling the cabin with west, west, west. Quieter still, I acknowledge that light is reaching out from the core of my body – I want to request a witness to see me and help me understand.

I am calm, still, harmless to self and others. Children and adults continue as before.

I deduce that I have had a private experience, a brief collapse of boundary where I may have sweated and appeared odd to others observing. No one is observing!

I feel urgent in my need to talk to someone, to put into words what I have seen and felt - To my right, a young man presses his call button.

Drinks will arrive in a minute or two.

March 26, 2010