(First Written in January 2015)

I'm in an plane. The day has been long. This trip was one of business and not for pleasure. The nights were late, the mornings early and the meetings relentless - it seemed to never stop. The smiling, the flattering, the talking, the promoting, more smiling, some listening, the give, the take... wash, rinse, repeat.

And finally, a plane ride home.

I hope I never lose the wonder and awe of seeing the earth from the sky. We live in a truly magnificent world and there is no better view than the one from above. When I'm in a plane my life, the world, reality, are momentarily suspended. All is well. Everything is and will be okay.

(As an aside: I hope I never become used to the feeling one gets when a plane takes off. When the engine gets louder, the plane gains speed and then lifts up towards the sky. The force, the stomach dropping, the adrenaline. It is unlike any other feeling in the world. But beyond that, beyond the physical, the knowing that you are going somewhere is such an intense and special and fleeting second. For a small moment all else melts away and you can feel life moving forward.)

Feeling drained and weak I sat, trying in vain for sleep. Sleep did not come. Looking out into the the blackening night sky as we flew over the heartland of America, there they were. The lights. Little dots of luminescence, the light of a thousand lives carrying on, as they always had, below.

And here I was, above. And I was struck with perspective. Aware of my own insignificance to these people, the lights below. They do not know me, are not thinking of me, I matter in no way to them. However, one day I might. One day I might matter to one of those lights. That this world we live in is so wonderful and crazy and full of surprise and serendipity that one day I might call one of those people friend. Or lover. Or family. The knowledge that we are fundamentally out of control of what happens to us day to day can be scary indeed. Or, it can be freeing. It can lift the burden of worry and planning we create for ourselves. Yes, we make decisions; yes, plans are good; but between the lines, between points A and B we are open, we are vulnerable and our life is full of the potential of the thing unplanned, the thing yet to happen.

And so, from my seat in the sky I wonder... Who are they? What are they doing? What is important in their lives? Was it a bad day? A long one at the office? Who brought life into the world today? Whose life finished today? It is in the detail and often in the seemingly mundane moments of quiet and stillness and companionship that lives are changed, relationships made stronger. In the doing of nothing with others, nothing but simply being present that we do the most. Who was simply present today? Who today had to persevere and who today celebrated?

That we - humans - can unknowingly make such a beautiful thing, make our individual lights shine - the lights of our everyday - to create the beauty of the whole, a pattern, a piece of art from the sky, makes me feel so full. Full of awe, of wonder, of complete contentedness and hope in the knowledge that life is good. People are good. And perhaps there is hope. Perhaps it is all plan. A plan we simply cannot see because we are but one light, one light that is part of a whole. A light that would be missing if not there.