I don’t often – but do sometimes – get to travel with work. It’s never for long and is always for brief, dense professional engagements.
To date, I haven’t had the chance to take the girls on an airplane. My wife and I have flown together. She’s an incredible traveling companion. I bet the kids would be too. But we haven’t had the opportunity yet. It’s expensive and we’ve spent our money in other ways.
But I want to take them on a flight. I want to really badly.
See, I’ve never gotten over how cool it is to be in a plane. I get a window seat every time I can, because I’m amazed at everything outside. At the engineering marvel that is the turbine. At how strong but how delicate the wing seems to be. At how big the sky is and at how big the ground is. At how wild the terrain still looks, even with the miracle of modern civilization etched into it. At the scope of our responsibility as stewards of the earth and air and water that we pass on flight, and the great responsibility we have to each other, put into context by how small we all are when seen from 20 000 feet.
But mostly, here’s what I want them to experience: there is an entire world of light and texture and topography when you get up above the clouds. Mountains and valleys and titanic, towering structures. It’s all hidden just a little bit out of reach. And it reminds me that all of life is like that, every place and idea and person is like that, with entire worlds waiting to explore and delight in, just beyond our reach, and all we need to discover it is to go.
But… If I’m being entirely honest, it’s also because airplanes are really cool.
As always, paddle your own canoe.