The View from Up There

Tin cans. That’s all I could think about the first time I went up in an airplane. I would like to say that I wasn’t terrified and that the thought of being ten thousand feet above ground was thrilling but that would be a lie. Truth be told the take-off made me inclined to vomit.

I think my expression also caused my mom to worry because I remember her telling me just look out the window. It will pass. She was right. The view from my seat was glorious. It was as if the clouds before me had changed in to snow capped peaks. I wondered how could something so weightless appear so solid.

It was funny because I thought someone is looking up at this particular plane watching as it follows its course. And to him I meant nothing just a tin can flying among the clouds. But from where I sat I could see everything. I wasn’t distracted by all the details on the ground. I was free.

I fly by myself now and to this day, I never get tired of looking out my airplane window and seeing the wannabe snow capped peaks. There’s just something so peaceful about the way the world looks from above. It’s almost silly to think that anything awful could happen to such a peaceful looking planet. But then I touch down, and I get off the plane and I forget all about the view. I forget all about the wannabe peaks, the brilliant sky, and I go about my life with my view on the ground.

It’s times when I get away from the business of the day, and the craziness of life that I’m reminded of that view–the view from up there when I am able to focus on something other than my schedule, my plans, and my life. I did that today. I drove to a park up in the mountains of North Carolina where I live and I just sat.

I watched as the mist floated off the pavements from the afternoon thunderstorm, and in doing so I thought about that view–the view from up there and I wasn’t so distracted with what I was doing tomorrow or what I was going to be doing in three weeks. It was just me and the view–the view from up there.

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