When given the choice, I will never pick the middle seat on an airplane. It isn't just a question of comfort. It is also about independence. My first pick is always the window. Beside it, I can gaze out and let my mind and spirit enter another environment. Knowing that no one will bother me when they want to get up and use the bathroom, I can also settle in and try to get some uninterupted sleep. My second choice is the aisle. It does connect me a bit to the needs of my neighbors, but I also know that I won't bother them if I am the one who needs to get up. And, psychologically, I just feel less boxed in. So, what am I being taught when my seat assignment for the first leg of my Spring pilgrimage is right in the middle of row 29 on the flight out of Seattle? As the plane takes off, I reach for a favorite book and read Father Murray Bono's opening words about journeys such as this. He recalls that pilgrimage is not about "I" but about "we". I am forced to admit that the middle seat is perhaps the most fitting place for a sojourners such as I. Seated between two strangers, I remember all the people I have met along pilgrim paths like the one I am about to take to Santiago de Compostela. I remember what it feels like to walk through people's back yards and down the main streets of their towns and villages. And, above all, I remember what it feels like to be interdependent- to rely on others along the road and to freely share resources and wisdom with people who were complete strangers only minutes before. So I settle into my middle seat as I begin my journey, knowing that this is a fitting metaphor for all of life and for all of my encounters with the world around me.
Thanks for this. As a traveler, I'm an aisle seat person, one foot raised to take off whenever I want. As a pilgrim, though, I sit in the middle, fellow travelers on both sides. They hold me up and in place.
ReplyDeleteSo as the pilgrims encouraged each other, I'm only say: Ultreya y suseya! Onward and upward!