Take off

The plane just hurtled down the runway and took off. The ground is getting further and further away, the sky and clouds closer and closer.

How am I feeling now? Quiet, calm... A little anxious because I'm on the plane I feel least safe on (the A330, which has had a number of accidents in recent years. And this particular one is old, has paint peeling on the engine outside my window...). But other than that, surprisingly calm and quiet.

The moments before the plane pulled back, I was texting back and forth with my friend. Surprisingly, telling each other how much we'll miss each other. And, in fact, how much we care about and love each other. At one point he broke down in tears, and it hurt to see him crying. I wished I could have been next to him to hold him, hug him... But instead I'm on a plane to get further away from him.

wrote him a long message, pouring out all I'm feeling, hiding nothing, revealing everything. I just want him to be happy, to be free, even if it's not, or never going to be, with me. That is true love, true wishes of happiness for someone you love and care about so very much. And I came out of the retreat with that clarity, with that ability to let him go. Of course, it'd be beautiful if we could one day come together again under cleaner and clearer conditions. What could be more beautiful than lovers who are the best of friends? But that is up to fate, not me.

I sent him the message only at the very last minute. something I tend to do just before a long flight, because frankly, as much as I've been flying around, I don't know why I seem to feel more and more unsafe and apprehensive on long flights, especially ones that cross the oceans.

The calm and quietness in my mind is perhaps from having no regrets and leaving with nothing unsaid. Because we bottle things inside, tend to suppress our thoughts and feelings for fear of facing them or telling others around us, we suffer. Whatever happens on this trip, or even on this long flight across the Pacific, i have cleared my mind, emptied my feelings out.

And I seem to be buoyed with such a sense of joy and peace, feeling as if I'm floating, and that nothing can get to me. Of course I know this feeling, this lightness, will fade and disappear, and sadness and gloominess will return, because that is just the nature of the mind. But now I feel content just being with the way things are, just living and breathing and being in this moment. And that is such a rare feeling, such an uplifting feeling. A free feeling I'd like to share and pass onto mum. To give her courage, to give her strength.

My aunt took me to the airport, and she said to me she envies my mum for being so strong, and for having a son like me. She wondered if my cousins would ever do that when she gets older...

I smiled a little. It's really nothing special to me, because it feels so natural. I'm just doing what I can, what I feel like is right. It's my way of showing how much I care, how much I love someone, and it's priceless. Mum was delighted to know I'm flying home to see her and be with her, even for a short time. And knowing that my visit and presence give her much comfort and joy is worth the tiredness and all the traveling.