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I'm listening to "no lies, just love" by Bright Eyes, a song that has resonated with me in so many different occasions throughout my life. My thoughts are jumbled, I feel numb. My heart has finally slowed down, my hands aren't trembling anymore. I can still feel tears being fought back, but I know my body is saving them for that glorious moment of seeing my parents on the other end, because at that point it'll be happy tears and that'll mean I'll have made it. My brain is foggy and my head hurts. This must be me in shock.
I've officially had what I would call my first near death experience today.
My life didn't flash before my eyes, like I always thought it would, slideshow style with nice music. I didn't see a white light, like some people have said they have. I had seconds to go. to move. somewhere, do something. there wasn't time for anything, not even thinking. There was absolutely no time for this life of mine, 23 great years of this life, to flash for even a second. I had to act and I had to do it quickly.
Sitting on the plane flying over Europe - There's a Greek woman behind me who is clearly terrified of flying as she's crying and shouting and flailing around while her adult daughters try to help calm her down. I want to turn around to her and tell her - we're safe here. This turbulence and shakiness is okay and I promise it's temporary. This is just us flying through the skies, we're going through the clouds. The big, puffy, white clouds that we all dream of sitting on someday as children. This, this mild bumpiness, is just a part of flying. I want to tell her that we're all in this together, that she's not alone and to squeeze her daughters hands tighter if she thinks it'll help. I want to tell her it'll be okay, that both of my parents are pilots, that the captain of this plane knows his shit and to not worry. I want to tell her to take a deep breath and to emphasize to her our safety, remind her that we only have to get through a little longer and then we'll be back on the ground.
I want to tell her that just a few hours ago, I wasn't safe, so I understand her being afraid. I understand the intensity of the fear I imagine she's feeling. I want her to know that when I walked into the plane, that's when I finally felt safe, similar to how she will feel once the wheels hit the runway. I want to share my experience of what had just happened in the Athens airport entrance. I want to tell her that the couple next to me, hugging and holding each other tightly, would usually make me roll my eyes and "gag", that I only half believe in love these days and coupley sights are my least favorite lately. But I saw them a fear hours ago too, they experienced what I experienced, so holding each other tightly only makes sense right now. I want to explain that up here, in the skies, with the clouds and the stars, this is the place to be. Down there is the scary place. Down there is where people can hurt each other so easily, where people die and hear bad news and feel the most pain. This flying thing is a relaxing time for most people, for a good reason - soak in the safety.
I want to tell her I was less than 10 feet away from a shooter or a guy with a bomb just a few hours ago. That I had seconds to figure out what the fuck was happening and move, go somewhere else. Everyone dropped everything and ran. There were about 20 of us left inside, dispersed by the bathrooms, unable to run, unable to go to where it was "safe" because we would have passed the guy causing us danger. We were stuck.
I had seconds to use the last few minutes of my wifi, to express what I thought could easily be my last words. all I could say was "there's a bomb in the airport. I'm hiding, idk what's happening, please tell my parents I love them." I didn't have time to tell that person I love them, I didn't have time to tell any of my people I love them. I was behind this wall, trapped in an enclosed hallway with a couple and a young boy named Lewis and his father. The men went out every once in a while to check to see what was happening and the girl and I hugged and shook and cried in each other's arms and we told the young boy everything would be okay and tried our best to stay calm so he wouldn't go chase after his dad. I'll never know her name, but that hug was everything, not being alone in that moment. All we could do was wait it out and hope for the best and be together in our fear.
I want to tell this woman behind me in the plane that she's not alone in the fear. All she can do right now is wait it out and squeeze tighter. That she's never ever alone. To take the free wine and the chocolate ball that Swiss airlines provides and let it comfort her, because life is fragile and sometimes so out of control and that fear is valid and real. So let's get through it together, cause that's literally all we can do.
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"I wrote this for a baby, who is yet to be born, my brothers first child. I hope that womb is not too warm, cause it's cold out here and it will be quite a shock - to breathe this air, to discover loss. So I'd like to make some changes before you arrive, so when your new eyes meet mine, they won't see no lies, just love." - lyrics from above mentioned song, "no lies, just love" by Bright Eyes.
Just love. I wish there could only be love and it hurts me that this world is so scary and full of fear and pain so SO often. Thanks to the love of her family and the flight attendants, the woman behind me eventually calmed down and was okay, facing her fears and getting through it like a champ. Thanks to the woman who gave me a hug and to my friends who answered their phone and cried with me before I left, I was okay.
I'll never know what really happened today or why, if the man was sick or drunk or crazy or all of the above. I'll never know what his intentions were, If the backpack he left that was taken by the police was full of something that could have destroyed all of us or not. I'll never know what he was yelling about, or who it was who jumped on him and potentially/probably saved us all.
This trip has taught me a lot about so many things, but I never expected to experience this. I feel reminded to live wholeheartedly, presently, and to practice love as often as possible. There needs to be more kindness in this world, more love for one another, more hugs and tight squeezes. It's nice up here in the sky, and even though it's maybe because we all went through security, I feel safe. And what a blessing that is.
