Emily in the Sky

I dreamt that I was able to "download" a really useful bio-tech app called a "HEART RADAR" that allows the wearer to detect if anyone in the vicinity is feeling sad or alienated. This is what it looked like in the dream. (see aboce)

For Emily in the Sky [Notes from my Journal, October 4, 2016]

I am a great believer in Jung's notion of synchronicity, or its older Buddhist version:

“When the student is ready the teacher appears.”

I was the student and Emily was the teacher on my Southwest airlines flight from Chicago to San Diego this week.

As those of you who have flown Southwest will recall, seats are not assigned. You draw a boarding number and then look for any open seat when you get on. I was about in the middle of the pack so there were plenty of middle seats left when I boarded, and therefore I must assume that some guardian spirit or daimon was guiding my choice when I took the middle seat in row seven next to Emily who was at the window.

My first indication that this was not going to be an ordinary trip was when I heard sounds of nearly desperate frustration coming from Emily who was struggling to fasten her seatbelt. She was attempting to force the belt into the wrong side of the clip and so was getting nowhere. She looked up at me almost frantically and said,

"Can you help me with this?"

"Sure,” I said. “Just turn this around in this direction and then it should snap in."

She heaved a huge sigh of relief and brought out a wad of napkins that she was using to mop her face.

“Are you all right,” I asked.

She shook her head vigorously and explained,

"This is my first time flying. I'm 40 years old and my son said I had to come and visit, but I don't like this at all! Why didn't I take the train? Even a car would be better."

“Wow,” I exclaimed, hoping to calm her anxieties with some pleasant chitchat.

“This is really a big night for you then isn't it? This is a real adventure, your first flight."

But Emily was having none of the small stuff. She had her face turned to the window and was muttering prayers under her breath which consisted mostly of "Oh my God. Oh my God. Sweet Jesus. Oh my God."

Again, trying to be cheerful, I said to her,

"Not only is God on your side, but science is on your side too! Once the plane starts cruising down the runway Newton’s laws take over and there's nothing for it but to go up in the air!"

This did not seem to have any sort of calming effect. So I went back to the religious theme.

"You know, having faith in flying is sort of like the story of Jesus and the apostles in the boat. When Jesus asks Peter to come and walk on the water and Peter thinks can't be done and then is amazed at how easy it is once he tries."

At this remark Emily turned and looked at me wide eyed. I realized at once this was not a good direction to go. Her panicked expression seem to suggest that she thought I was some kind of lunatic and was going to ask her to open the doors of the airplane and launch herself into thin air. I retreated to safer ground.

"Well, I've flown hundreds of times and I can assure you that it will all be fine."

The plane began to move away from the gate and Emily's praying became more fervent. When we reached the runway she suddenly turned to me and said imploringly,

“Is it OK if I hang onto you?

“Of course,” I said.

Emily promptly linked her left arm through my right arm and clutched my hand with both of hers. She shut her eyes tight and went into prayer hyperdrive.

I’ve read books that use the expression "moaning with fear" but I had never actually heard it in real life until this moment. The sounds coming from Emily were the sounds of abject terror. My heart opened as I felt sympathetic waves of emotion flowing between us and my left hand came around to pat her arm reassuringly and I leaned my cheek against her downturned head and murmured encouraging words.

The plane swooped up and made a graceful arc over Midway airport before heading west into the darkening skyline. After a few more minutes Emily opened her eyes and glanced cautiously out the window and then immediately turned away with the startled gasp.

"Oh my God. Oh my God!” she exclaimed again.

Then she looked at me and patted my hand.

"I love you lady. I really love you. Thanks for being so nice. I'm really sorry."

“No need to apologize,” I assured her. “You're just being human and that's OK. And I'm just being a human right back at you and that's OK too.”

She cracked a tentative smile and repeated "I love you lady. What's your name?”

“Rebecca,” I said, “What's yours?”

“Emily,” she said.

Seemingly overcome with the ordeal of takeoff she asked me if she could lean on my shoulder. I agreed and Emily folded her hands and put her head down on my shoulder with a deep sigh. Within a few minutes was sound asleep. Periodically during the trip she would wake up with a start, look at her surroundings, mutter some Jesus prayer is under her breath, and pat my arm with her litany of "Thank you lady, Jesus I really love you lady," and settle back for more nap.

As Emily took up her position on my shoulder I began to reflect on the strange feeling that I was getting. It seemed very important that this interaction was taking place and what it reminded me of was the idea that after giving birth it takes a woman another year to really be born into motherhood. And it is the child who calls forth the “Mother” from the former “Maiden.”

The child gives birth to the parent at the heart level.

A similar sequence seemed to be taking place here. Although I had felt the stirrings of entering into my crone years when I turned 60, something was happening here that was really calling me forth – allowing the crone within me to be born, to come out into the world. This is, after all, what a crone does: she erases the social niceties and gets right down to the nitty-gritty, providing the needed words and actions, fierce or tender, without regard for propriety. Emily, being true to her own raw fear, had allowed me to step into an equally honest place. We were strangers, but also intimates as fellow travelers.

As we approached San Diego, Emily woke up with the captain's announcement of our descent and she braced herself for the next stage of the ordeal. She clung tightly to my arm as we came in low over the rooftops – coming into San Diego is especially unnerving as the clearance is one of the tightest of any airport but I've been to.

When the planes wheels touched and the airplane did its little bounce and then threw the engines into reverse Emily let out a terrified gasp and I squeezed her hand tightly and said

“That was the worst of it. Now we've landed and you made it!”

When Emily's eyes finally opened I looked directly into them and said to her,

“Now you have met and mastered your fear. You did the thing that was so frightening and now you can pay it forward. Someday you'll meet someone who's afraid like you were and you'll be able to comfort them just the way I've comforted you.”

“Oh lady, now look what you've gone and done - you made me cry. Jesus I love you lady!”

Dear Emily,

I hope you're having a wonderful visit with your son in San Diego. I hope that on your way back you're not quite so scared, or if you are, I hope someone sits next to you who's ready to have their heart opened, just as you opened mine. Thank you for being my teacher at exactly the right moment.

Yours in spirit,

Rebecca, the Crone