I departed from Detroit’s airport about an hour ago and I have been in the air ever since, wondering what I should write about.
At first I thought I would write about why I hate taking pictures. Or why my self confidence is so low. But I decided that, ultimately, that wasn’t a good idea because it would be pointless and negative and it would probably be better to write an entry like that once I’ve changed. But I’m not ready for that yet.
Then Macklemore’s “10,000 hours” started playing through my headphones and I heard my favorite line: the greats aren’t great because at birth they could paint. They greats are great because they paint a lot.” This line was enough to inspire a spark inside me and I prepared to write when I looked outside.
We were just beneath the clouds, close enough to the ground that I could see the buildings and the cars clearly, but far enough away that everything looked fake. It was as if everything was a set piece on a child’s intricate playtable. It was hard to believe that everything was lifelike and real. It was hard to believe there were actual people living in these items. Driving their cars around. Sitting on their front porches. Going about their daily lives as unique individuals, just like everyone else.
So I started to write about that. About how I love flying. How I love noticing these people and realizing they have their own story. And how some of the people I see in the airport are about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime!
But after a few minutes of writing, I looked up again and what I saw was breathtaking. Everything was completely white for a few moments. I could see the wing but the entire plane was covered in a strong, white mist. And then we emerged. All of a sudden we were above the clouds–what looked like puffy cotton balls from my windowseat. The sky was different shades of blue and there was a soft pink in the far distance. I tried to take a picture but, of course, my iPhone and the dirty window can’t recreate the beautiful sight I had in front of me for a few moments.
Which brings me back to my question: how do you write with such a view? I couldn’t look away for a good 5 minutes and that was only because I decided to desperately jot down my fleeting thoughts. I agree that views like this create wonderful inspirations, but I wouldn’t have been able to write more than 100 words, even if I wanted to.
But why would I want to? I knew the view would only be there momentarily, so I looked out into it and lost myself. I lost my train of thought and I forgot I was using a public form of transportation. I was alone with my thoughts, and I just had to trust myself to remember them after the moments passed.
So I don’t know what the point of this entry is either. And because I’m typing this on my phone, I don’t know what it’ll look like on my blog. But I feel like I need to leave you, the reader, with something. So maybe don’t feel the need to capture everything. Or maybe just look up and outside every once in a while. Our earth is truly beautiful, as are our lives. And sometimes all it takes to see it is a few moments with a bird’s eye view.