Skip to main content

Window Seat


Quiet time on an airplane is one of the last bastions left for every day meditation. I took advantage of my flight time this week to have a think from the window seat.

When I worked as a consultant in the "aughts", I flew a ton of miles. Over 750,000 to be exact. I stayed in a lot of hotels as well (over 400 nights to be exact), but that's for another blog post. What I learned sitting on planes is that a cabin is both a strictly confined space as well as an expansive dream chamber. Seats have gotten smaller over the decades of commercial aviation, but the same horizon-wide views fill the small window ports that open up to the sky above the clouds. At 30,000 feet, there is a sense of grand expanse unlike anything you can experience the ground, even at the top of a skyscraper. From high above the clouds, order appears from the chaos below - well-apportioned farmlands, urban centers, and jagged mountain ranges take their own measured place upon the landscape. The scenery lends itself to the sense that order can result from a variety of thoughts that might ruminate in the mind. Out of the chaos comes coherence or a new spark of inspiration for the next big idea.

That's what it seemed like, at least, if I pored through my paper notebooks from those days, which were filled to the brim with project notes and journal entries. The heady realizations and outcomes of deliberation, analysis, and emotional connection electrified pages and pages of notebooks that are now piled in my office closet. And I realize that a good portion of those pages were spurred on from a window seat not unlike the one that brought me home from a family wedding.

What is it exactly that makes a window seat such a thought-provoking place? For one thing, it is often (although increasingly less likely) the only place with an internet connection or ability to call someone (the demise of the Verizon Airfone service was coincidental with the rise of inflight internet, with an interesting intersection story). It's a place where people keep to themselves (for the most part, except when passengers get riled up), which means uninterrupted time. And a flight is often more than an hour (up to 16+ hours), which means a concentrated block of time. 

In other words, an accepted, uninterrupted block of time where people know not to - or cannot - contact you. The perfect time and place - with those inspiring expansive views - to think and reflect.

Which is what I did from the window seat on my way home. I look forward to my next trip where I can gain some new perspective high above the clouds.


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Party Like It's 1999

A coworker sent me a meeting invitation to the end of the world.  Fitting.  I'm not sure if I should accept or not (suppose it depends on your views of the end of the Mayan calendar ), but somehow it reminded me of the Prince song on a related subject . Fitting as well that this coworker was not born when Prince extolled the virtues of partying like it's 1999 (side note: I did party like it's 1999 while studying abroad in Milan at that time, which was a heady experience with the coming of the Euro and all.  How times have changed, how the mighty have fallen...).  Time change, sometimes faster than we think, and our cultural references become dated.  Perhaps just like the Mayan calendar falling out of fashion over the last few centuries, until its end becomes a modern cultural phenomenon - or not, depending on your view of things. In either case, it's worth partying like it's 1999 regardless because hey, it will be Friday when this all goes down, and Fridays
Post a Comment
Read more

Siesta

Every so often, an afternoon comes along that deserves a siesta. Today is such a day. With mid-90's temperatures and a blazing, blue sky, a July summer day such as this carries the conditions befitting of a hour's respite from the day's torching heat and mounting challenges. Good thing, then, that there is so much more work to do and that a pause is difficult to conceive at this point. But it is worth daydreaming - as good as a siesta, just done wakefully instead of eyes closing. In any case, I found this portrait by the artist Roxanne Driedger to be appropriate. A sort of soft tribute to the innocent pleasures of an afternoon nap that seems so appealing right now.
1 comment
Read more

New York Pause

Heading to the Helmsley Sometimes I work in NYC, and this is my office.  More precisely, there is a desk in the upper floors of this distinctive building that has a major thoroughfare running through it that I inhabit while typing up documents and conducting meetings in the city.  It is nothing exceptional, usually the work and sometimes the desk at which I sit, but the surrounding city is commanding, ever-thriving, and never-still. If I pay close enough attention, I am reminded of the countless things that make this city unique among the many cities I have had the pleasure to live in and visit.  But on this brisk morning, when winter gusts barrel down Park Avenue as I hustle the blocks from Lex to the building entrance security guards, I pause long enough to snap this picture.  That pause is enough reminder that I am lucky to be here, and New York City is ready to give me its best shot (I'm still not sure if the city is better personified male or female).  But that is all t
2 comments
Read more