the nonsensical musings of a clueless twenty something

Airplanes and the Afterthoughts of Ambiguous Observances


There are days when I genuinely wish writing wasn’t my outlet.

It’s an exhaustively honest craft to be wielding and, in all honesty (repetition, ew), some days I don’t even want to hear myself talk (or type (who’s feeling literal today?)).

Some days I wish I had a passion for cupcakes or knitting or something else that you could throw down on a table; and the people in observance wouldn’t be able to go, “Amy is so sad today” (unless, of course, I made sad cupcakes or something).

There are other things that I enjoy outside of writing. However, none of those things give me the instant gratification of being filled up and emptied out all at once.

I travelled to San Diego last week.

I love to fly. I love airports, I love to people watch, I love to feel like an adult with my laptop and Starbucks. Additionally, I love to be among the fortunate who are experiencing things in the world and such (even if it is for work).

Between multiple ascensions and descensions I was able to watch the skies and the cities and the world shrink and magnify beneath me. I watched the sun sink and the moon rise and the steady pulse of electricity tinkering across the grid-like landscape.

I let my eyes grow wide in wonder as I sat and contemplated the thrumming hearts and active muscles 30,000 feet below me. The endless stream of thoughts and emotions, the rise and fall of great and good and bad. The happenings that are probably relative on some level to my own existence but in no real tangible or fathomable way.

It’s in moments like these where your concentration of self is completely diluted. You are one person on a very large aircraft. You are hovering above thousands and thousands of other human beings who don’t know who you are or care where you’re going. They don’t know your name or the things that you love or that you’ve ever accomplished something good or worthwhile.

In these moments you are a small, tiny pinprick of life among other small, tiny pinpricks of life, and you are completely insignificant. Disposable. Replaceable. Irrelevant.

(I’m feeling dramatic today, okay?)

I don’t necessarily mean that in a negative way. It just makes you reconsider your perception of self.

I have moments like that when I stand in front of anything vast and unimaginable. Like the Ocean (or anything else you can’t see the other side of). Or The David in Italy (wonder behold).

Whoah

Magnificent Awesomeness

And then I have moments like this that are invoked by the words or actions of another human being.

And that’s always worse, I think. Because when you are on the ground walking around in your own skin amongst the people who know and love you, and are still able to feel very, very small…

Well, that’s not the fun-nest (the most fun (whatever)).

There are days for everyone where thoughts along the lines of:

You really haven’t done as much as you think you have.”

You’re not nearly as important as you think you are.”

Or,

You are a small, tiny pinprick of life.”

cross, inhabit, and then take up an active residence in our minds.

And maybe that’s good.

Maybe sometimes we need to readjust who we think we are and where we think we’re going.

Because all of that is wildly ambiguous as well, isn’t it?

Security and certainty of self and situation are things out of our own control at most times in our lives. There’s a steady dependence on other lives and thoughts and actions that sort of furrow into our own lives and thoughts and actions; it’s what makes our feet move.

And that’s good, but it’s also terrifying…

isn’t it?

(this isn’t a solicitation for feel-good messages or words of encouragement. It’s just a gray day (which means a self-allowed increase of chocolate consumption and word writing (everyone wins))).

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This entry was published on January 26, 2012 at 5:33 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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