Attitude Adjustment...

I was flying home yesterday from the East Coast, on the long section of my cross continent travel, Washington, DC to Salt Lake City.  There was a young couple sitting behind me with a two year old and an infant.  So there were four people in three seats. And they were good parents.  Prepared, lots of snacks and distractions. But it was a 4+ hour flight and they were little kids.  There was a lot of crying and screaming and kicking and wailing.  The dad paced the isle as long as the flight attendants would let him. The mom did her best to keep the kids happy and occupied.  But it was a long flight and the kids were not really having any of it.

It was almost like the toddler and the infant made a pact before the flight, “Ok, so we are responsible for making sure mom and dad do not get any rest on this flight, there will be no moments of peace and one of us has to be going off at all times!  If I get quiet, it is your responsibility to sound off, got it?”

And I will unhappily report that they achieved that goal. Some might even say they exceeded that goal...

While I was in the lavatory, I had a few minutes to reflect.  (Don’t we all do some of our best, most spiritually based thinking in the bathroom?  Mine is usually the shower...but since that is not available on the plane, I improvised).  Anyway, while I was in the bathroom I thought about how I was acting.  How I was irritated at the family and the kids.  I was not happy having my seat kicked, repeatedly.  And I was jarred by the unpleasant sounds of children crying and screaming.  I was not enjoying my time being seated in front of them.

As I washed my hands, I looked in the mirror.  And I saw the irritation tight across my face.  It wasn’t a good look...and I knew that I needed to soften.  And I began to think of my time in those parents’ shoes when I travelled with young children and how hard it was and how powerless I felt.  How many things I tried, and how many of those ideas failed to produce quiet, peaceful results.  I remembered how stressed I was and how upright I felt.  I remember how much I was sure everyone on the flight hated me and my kids and was sitting in judgment of me as a mother and how much I was currently sucking at that job.

I knew what I had to do, I had to go back to my seat and sit quietly and not let the screaming, yelling, crying, kicking children take away my peace.  I had to rise above the circumstances of my current existence and be grateful for the fact that I no longer have small children and that part of my life is over!  Blessedly, I survived, so did my kids and so would these two overwrought parents.

When I went back to my seat, the dad had moved up with the toddler to the row in front of me and the toddler was now having a complete meltdown because she wanted to be with her mom.  She was losing her mind, screaming, “MOMMY!  I WANT MOMMY!!!!!!!”

I turned around the harried and likely sleep deprived young mother and said, “It is ok.  Have them move back next to you, it is ok.  I was irritated but then I remembered what it is like when I was where you are.  And it is so hard.  So very hard.  I get it.  It is ok, you are doing a good job and this is very difficult.  Please don’t mind me.  Do what you need to do for the kids.”

A wash of relief flashed across her face.  Her husband and the little girl returned to their seats and she quieted down.  But since she and her brother had made a blood oath before the flight, he started up before the father’s butt hit the seat.  I put my headphones on and felt good that I had allowed my own past and experience to save me from being an asshole.  I amended what I did wrong and I moved on with my life.

We all made it to Salt Lake City.  Not really any worse for the wear.  The husband’s comment. “I wish we were not going on vacation anymore...” Echoed in my mind.  How hard it is to be a young parent.  How hard it is to manage little dictators that hold your life, sanity and well being in their tiny imperial grip.

I remember all too well...

I like the person I was when I disembarked that plane way better than the entitled, out of touch asshole who boarded it.  I am grateful that the intervening years granted me the ability to adjust myself and my attitude when I fall back into entitled prickdom.  It was humbling to remember how desperate and despondent I felt when I was in those young parents’s place.

The kids were being kids.  Which underscores why I am done with child rearing and being responsible for little children.  I was never all that great at it with my nervous, OCD and anxious central nervous system.  I did the best I could, which could have been better if I would have known then what I know now...but alas, I did not, so I did what I did.

I am grateful for the spiritual practice of everyday living that allows me to drop more deeply into the present moment where I can find everything I might ever need...and how very often it is that I need to adjust me and my attitude to fit the present situation unfolding in my life...and how much peace and serenity it available to me when I get the fuck out of my own way.

Again, still...