When I recorded this monologue, I was exhausted from travel and skeptical about the history of flight. Doubting the historical frameworks of anything, really. I forgot that castles and mountains exist to give people a bird’s-eye view before the invention of airplanes. Even still, I don’t think anything truly compares to what you see in flight.
Despite the objectively life-changing view, modern travel is horrific due to compounding man-made problems. I’m not talking about jet lag. I’m talking about false features to monsters on a mission to drain every last drop of human energy. It is really hard not to think about the decadent meals they used to serve on regular flights as you get your Coke and cookies in your tiny, expensive seat.
With all of the negatives that come with modern air travel, I hear nothing short of cherubs singing “Redemption is not just paradise. It is accepting a second (and first) chance at life…” whenever I gaze down at the world below. It’s the greatest culture shock to go from being treated as an inmate by TSA, to receiving sight like an angel. Usually, I feel a tiny bit of shame, like I am not pure enough to behold our world from divine perspective.
Whatever shame I ever feel quickly evaporates when my pulse starts racing from the beauty. Eyes pilot the mind, so thoughts can soak up the scenery. In the days that follow a flight, I’m always left with awe and devotion to the little everything witnessed from on high. It strengthens my love for people, and our homes, our lives, our journeys. It doesn’t give life more meaning, but it gives my tiny heart more room for it.
Share this post