Thoughts on a Plane

As the plane takes off I look out my window. Here we go, I think, another chance to die.  I'm a little surprised by part 2 of that thought, not so much the use of the word "die"- I'd recently posted the "The Night I Almost Died" blog--  but the use of the word "chance."

Because I wasn't feeling fear when I had that thought, it almost came across as a good thing. Not exactly like "Oh, yippy! Here's a chance to die!" But maybe just neutral. No concern. Just an observation. And I decided to follow that train of thought, curious where it might lead, and here's where it went:

Yes, every time I fly is just another chance to die. I have no control. This plane could explode or crash. Of course it could. Isn't it crazy how we fly through the air in these big machines? Putting our lives in the hands of the pilots? Relinquishing control. And yet it's more likely to die when in control, when behind the steering wheel of one's own car.

And are we ever really in control? Accidents happen. But is there really even such a thing as an accident? Some people say there are no accidents. Each choice every person makes, no matter how seemingly unrelated, leads them to that moment, that location, that situtuation in which the so-called accident happens. Is it all meant to be? Pre-destined? A combination of destiny and choices? Or is it all totally arbitrary? 

I'd rather believe there's some meaning. Not a pre-determined set-in-stone plan with specifics, but perhaps certain things in life our souls must experience. Certain essences, and our choices create the forms through which we experience and embody those essences and learn those lessons and fulfill our contracts and purposes for this lifetime. If you believe in that sort of thing.... and I've decided I do. Life is much more meaningful and interesting that way.

© 2012 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.