Zen and the art of being an airline passenger

Zen Buddhists have a saying: "You do not have to understand the moment, to be in the moment."

Understanding the moment, and having a moment of perfect and total understanding, is a rare and beautiful thing. Some call it an epiphany, some call it divine grace, some call it nirvana. Whatever your name for it, having a perfect moment of self-awareness is something we should all strive for and treasure. Some Buddhists would argue that it is impossible to have total awareness of the universe. Taoists would tell you that it is possible, but you would be unable to explain it to anyone else, because we lack the words to describe it - an attempt to describe the Eternal Tao would be incomplete, and would therefore diminish it.

In any case, to lack complete understanding but still be in the moment - fully and totally focussed and aware without worries for the past or future - should not be underestimated. To be a rock in the stream: part of the river, yet outside it. Affecting the water, and affected by it, but also steadfast.

Being a passenger on an aeroplane is such an experience. You have control: you determined your origin and destination, and your flight time, but you have no control: the pilot steers the plane and determines where and when you land.

No effort on your part will make the journey quicker, you travel but you do not move and do not exert your will to affect the travel.

You stand on solid material, but exist far above the clouds.

You may have responsibilites or worries behind you or in front of you, but in the here and now you have none.

The world is below you and around you, but you cannot contact it and it cannot contact you.

It is a perfect opportunity to acheive a zen-like state, and people address this in different ways.

Some will sleep, their lives so busy and hectic that the slumber they deny themselves on the ground is their most urgent need when those other worldly cares diminsh.

Some watch a movie, or listen to music. Are their lives such that they cannot spend an hour or two without external stimulation? Do they try to distract themselves, from the flight, or from themselves - because being alone with their own thoughts might provoke some self awareness?

Some pace and mutter, impatient for the solitude to end. Some talk to other passengers, to stave off the lonliness.

What do you do?

(Note to the universe: next time I'm booked in for an understanding of universal truthes and zen contemplation, can I please have a little more knee room? Or is that your way of grounding me in ther here and now?)