Last month, I made a few plane
trips. I admit to you here that I like to just mind my own business in these
kinds of situations—at airports, on airplanes. I occasionally will feel moved
to have some limited friendly interaction, but I’m not a
strike-up-conversations-with-strangers kind of gal. In the last couple of
years, I have determined that I actually prefer the aisle to the window because
I don’t end up looking out the window that much and on the aisle I feel like I
have a little more room, plus I can go to the bathroom without disturbing
anyone else.
So, on one of these trips, I got
to my seat and there was a giant of a guy sitting in the middle seat, like his
head was way above mine and he had the build of a WWF wrestler or a football
player. He was wearing all black, his head was shaved and he was wearing his
dark sunglasses. I notice right away that the armrest is up, which I hate,
because as I’ve implied already, I like to have my own space and have that
little bit of separation. (I just decided to be totally honest here even if I
look like a weirdo, though I have noticed that I am not the only one not making
eye contact in the airport).
This guy seems like a nice guy. He
helps me adjust my reading light. Still, I notice myself trying to be more
compact and leaning a little to the left. Then, he falls asleep and leans a
little bit into me. Ahh, geez. And he wakes up and straightens himself out.
This probably happens a couple of times before I have the realization that it’s
not so bad, that it’s maybe even nice for this big stranger to lean his arm
into my arm. I suddenly just feel like a human helping out another human and
don’t feel averse to actual human contact. I sort of want to tell him that it’s
okay, that he can lean on me when he falls asleep, but that seems like it will
be weird. So I just try to send him the vibes that I don’t mind.
I don’t know if this is a yoga
story. Maybe it’s about dvesha (aversion), one of the causes of suffering. Or
about ahimsa (non-violence), the cultivation of kindness. Or satya
(truthfulness), like the truth that we are all just humans. Or svadhyaya
(self-study), looking at my own weird habits and investigating if they are
useful or harmful. Or just a reminder that the word yoga means connection, so
this is what all the practice is for, having more feeling of connection.
Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving. I am
thankful for that guy and that experience and I am thankful to all of you who
read this blog.
For more info about therapy with me: www.seattlesomatictherapy.com
For more info about yoga or chanting with me: www.stephaniesisson.net
