Surviving A Life Crash

The last time I went on a plane I chose to sit next to a guy dressed in a pilot uniform.

I told him if we went down he was definitely the one I wanted to be sitting next to.

He agreed.

But....confession: I have a goal of being able to enjoy a plane wreck.

It’s true.

How amazing would it be to possess the mind ability to be able to look out of the window and see the wide, beautiful earth below me, feel that weightless sensation of free flight, break through the clouds, be the lady whooping and hollering and snapping selfies on the way down instead of the one screaming that we're all going to die….

It’s just who I want to be.

Of course, I would never hope to actually be in this situation, but I have the opportunity to practice this on some level almost every day of life.

Can you think of a time when your life felt like a freaking wreck?

A flaming ball of fire falling from the sky, hurtling debris and exploding regularly through the long plummet to earth?

I’ve had these times.

I've seen my lives flash before my eyes.

The life I deliberately create and enjoy AND the life I end up with over a series of reactions over reactions, which just letting you know, look like the lady screaming that we're all going to die.

Here are a few things I realized:

1. These moments never last forever.

This goes for the good and the bad. Because that is life.

I remember calling a friend a few days after my brother died asking him if I could possibly ever feel happy again. He gave me the best advice ever. He told me, because he had been in that position too, that there would be days when I would feel happy for just a small moment, and to allow myself to be happy in that moment because the sad moments would come back. Allow the sad moments too recognizing that someday the happy moments could get longer and longer, the sad moments smaller and smaller, and eventually there would be a day where I was happy the whole day through.

He was right.

Eventually we hit the earth and the only things that we can change is what we choose to focus on on the way down and what we do once we hit bottom.

2. The dirty diaper moments are valuable too

I believed people when they would tell me as a new mother that these moments would never come back. I chose to appreciate all of the moments. Even the dirty diapers.

(Stay with me!)

When I would hold a wiggly little boy determined to crawl away and get his little heels in the mess I was trying to clean up I would take a moment to realize that there would be days that I would be chasing him for a moment of his time and I currently had a minute to look him in the eyes, talk to him, give him 100% of my attention, play peek-a-boo, and help him feel that he was loved no matter what kinds of messes he created for himself and others.

I could wish him grown and potty trained but I would have missed moments that never came back, like waking up to little hands holding my face, and bubble bath beards.

There are always moments now that will never come back.

Find them.

3. There are some things I just can’t or shouldn’t change

If I were to be a passenger on this ill-fated, imaginary plane wreck, what would it benefit me to scream and panic on the way down?

Would it keep the crash from happening?

Do I have to wait for the lady next to me to stop screaming so I can appreciate the moment?

No. Both times.

Hard-working people who believe that they can feel better by the world and life coming into compliance, and the people around them who are “preventing” them from joy changing, will die trying to change it/them.