Landing in a Storm

Tonight I flew into LaGuardia in a snow storm. The wind carried the snow sideways, so that it looked like a horizontal rush of white. Our plane circled the runway as the pilot explained that the first attempt to land was aborted because of low visibility. We circled, and the dark-haired man in the seat next to me and I laughed and nervously admitted our fear and made jokes and tried to be brave for each other, strangers caught in the same whirling night.

Returning back to my life after days away feels too real. It is too raw to consider the work to be done and the things to consider, so instead, I'll drink this beer and write.

The loneliness of my friends and people I don't even know has been pressing in lately. Palpably, I sense the sadness of those who have tried and failed repeatedly into middle age to find love, or the frustration of those still young enough to keep trying without bitterness, yet. Or those who are old and have found something as a substitute for love: something that sustains them in lieu of something more beautiful. For these people, I feel bad. Watching them care for each other and not receive the care or connection, warmth or beauty underneath a true love, this is sad to me. But it is functional, and maybe that is how it needs to go sometimes. After love has burned then scarred a heart, maybe this is a cushioned and necessary way to live.

It does all seem like a balance between the raw and the overcooked when I think about it this way. Who ever really finds the place that is between those two, a connection that is just right, for a lengthy period of time? Some of us will, but it really looks like most of us won't. Everything in life--not just love--can feel like this if I don't turn off the brain valve that is pouring the contents of my life down this analytical chute. For your sake, I will shut that down immediately.

When our plane began its descent again tonight, the handsome man next to me sucked in his breath and placed his hand on my arm, as much to brace himself as to assure me that I was not alone in this fear: that although this may be perfectly routine for landing a commercial plane in a storm, we were strangers, and we were frightened. And that was okay.