“I was returning home on a flight from the east coast after burying my father. It had been a very difficult time. I had known Dad was sick for some time, but my own anxiety about illness and death had me twisted in knots—I kept putting off visiting him until it was too late. All I wanted was to be left alone to my thoughts. So, of course, I ended up on a full flight, sitting next to a man about my age, who obviously wanted to talk.
At first I resisted his attempts to get a conversation going, giving one-word answers, looking like I was really interested in my in-flight magazine. But it was useless. Then he told me very matter-of-factly that he was on his way home to die. I guess I kind of recoiled at that, so he said, ‘Don't worry, it isn't contagious.’
Somewhat to my own amazement, I heard the words ‘Are you scared?’ come flying out of my mouth. Normally, I would never have been so direct, but my own experience had really affected me. Anyway, that certainly broke the ice, and we ended up deep in conversation throughout the entire flight. “It was such a liberating experience for me. This guy was no hero and no saint.
He was scared, he was confused, he was angry, he was worried about how he would handle dying, and he was afraid his whole life had meant nothing; but through it all, he was determined to at least face what was happening to him as honestly and courageously as possible, and in some small way I felt honored to be able to participate.
It is so easy to become preoccupied with ourselves as lone individuals. After all, it is what our physical senses report to us. But we are not alone—we are just one of many, all struggling with the same issues, all trying to move in the same direction. We need each other for the deepest spiritual reasons. We need each other to share the mysteries of life and death, to give substance to our joy and sorrows, to help us on our journey, and to remind us that we are all one.
