The plane has landed early at the Dallas-Fort Worth mega airport.  Along with the others in the full silver tube, I’m feeling a bit punchy. Almost fifteen minutes early. Cell phones engaged, passengers report our fortune and expectations of leisurely transfers and rides home. Ah…

Then the horror begins. Not all at once. In flight attendant school one of the required courses is: Fifty reasons why a flight is delayed without suggesting American Airlines personnel, planes, or selection of in-flight fake potato chips for only five dollars–had anything to do with it. To graduate from “smiling through the bad news” flight attendants are required to go to the scene of a house fire and convince people trapped inside not to panic, and, by the way, the guy with the live blow torch the police drug out of your garage–was not responsible for the fire in any way…not in any way no matter what it looks like.

Because your plane has landed, that doesn’t mean you are in the terminal. The first announcement made is something self-congratulatory about arriving early, drifting off at the end pointing out, in case we hadn’t noticed, we’re not actually at a gate. Ten minutes later, same line.  Thirty minutes later, comes the announcement that we are going around the airport to an open gate in another terminal.  Okay. We sit back to enjoy the ride over the highway and through the woods to grand–eight or so minutes later we are poised once again behind a bank of loaded gates. Inhabitants are ringing call buttons, silly complaints…”If I miss my connection, I’ll miss my aunt’s funeral.” “I just a poor South by Southwest musician, I’ll have to sleep in the airport…”

It’s right along here that I decide to notice anxiety in the plane ping around from person-to-person. Who’s in the grip of their emotions, and who is sticking with the fact that there’s nothing we can do about our situation.

NOTE: What I’m suggesting here is a way we can learn to slow our own emotional reactions by trying to observe WITHOUT JUDGMENT.   Sitting back and pointing fingers isn’t nice and, hey, I’ve already admitted I am as a big a pain in the rear as any other person alive. Doing the judging thing is just recycling anxiety in a negative way. Unless they’re funny, of course. The next annoncement the flight attendant gives is one a level two answer…unexpected traffic…ground crew on break…thunderstorm in Great Falls, Minnesota has the aviation industry on its knees…do not get up to go to the lavatories, we’ll be moving at any moment…

We’ve gone from being fifteen minutes early to being forty-five minutes late.  The flight attendant now announces that we are going back under the highway to the original gate which is now available.  Well, there’s a lie..okay ”That is a lie is,” is an anxiety-poofing-up statement. Let’s just say the orginal gate still had a plane in it. We wait, call buttons are pinging, babies, crying, threats to complain to people high on the American food chain fill the air.

The reason I’m sharing this lovely experience is, because I decided to observe and breathe slowly, to be more interested in what was going on around me…than cranking up the anxiety as a way of keeping my EMOTIONAL GUIDANCE SYSTEM a bit at bay. And it worked. Okay, I admit, I was getting off in Dallas, so no connection and no sleeping in the airport potential. 

So, I cheated. But, I’m still giving myself some credit. Because the truth, the FACT that did not cause me significant inconvenience, has never shut me up before.   …Mexico…