At present I'm far from home. Not only am I not in Shiloh, I'm not in Israel. I'm in Tempe, AZ for a kibbud av v'em, honoring one's father and mother trip. I'm based at my sister's home. I now do this a couple of times a year.
I fly half way around the world. It's a suspension of reality, because although I've been flying since the mid-late 1960's flying is something I can never understand. It's not even considered miraculous by most. It's routine. But think about it. Hundreds of ordinary people are locked into a metal and plastic machine that rises above the clouds and makes its way over mountains, valleys and oceans, crossing time zones and countries. Then it lands with a gentle thump and slowly rolls to a stop.
And we passengers sometimes become a new "society" and sometimes we each isolate ourselves trying to have as little contact as possible. On the El Al flight I took to NY, I just wanted to hide myself away. There was noise all around me. Simultaneous partying in all sorts of voices, languages and accents. I was a solitary figure, trying to huddle into a comfort zone. Protecting my seat, myself from being grabbed and pulled and rocked by nearby and passing passengers who seemed incapable of standing and passing without grabbing my seat.
The Delta flight from JFK to AZ was a different world, none of the Israeli, or Jewish public partying in the aisles. It was a also an evening flight of rather tired passengers, the opposite mood of the hyper-energetic morning flight I was trying to recover from.
I truly enjoyed the peace and quiet. I also enjoyed the conversation I had with the women seated next to me. She initiated it. I was ready to talk, and she was interested and open-minded. Talking to her was good preparation for reconnecting with the earth and people.
My posts from here will probably be different from my usual... Enjoy, I hope
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