Free Fall

I was on a plane once traveling with my band mates from Tampa to Chicago. We had a few shows lined up and I was excited to be in one of my favorite cities, to visit friends and family, and play some music.

We always flew Southwest domestically because regardless of the ticket price, 2 free checked bags per person meant that we didn’t have to pay all kinds of luggage fees for guitars, pedal boards, merch etc. The downside was, unless we were super early (rare) we didn’t all get to sit together.

Now, my typical m.o. in this scenario would be to put my headphones in and pass out or watch a movie. But from the moment I sat down I was swept up in conversation with an older gentlemen sitting next to me. Beautiful conversation.

Towards the end of our flight, Chicago’s epic skyline came into veiw and we began our descent. The old man leans in towards me, and with all seriousness — eyebrows curved down and in along with the wrinkles between and says, “They don’t like to talk about it this way, but we’re falling.” He lets the reality of that truth sink in a bit before he breaks the tension with a sly grin. We both chuckled and he followed up with, “Seriously though, we’re just in a controlled fall. Isn’t that something?” And then we both sat, quietly sharing the view of this large city through our very small window just taking it all in.

And then I began to cry.

It hit me all at once, and I’m reeling in the depth of this metaphor again, presently…

Most of my life feels like a free fall — like I could spiral out of control at any given moment. My tendency, in fear, is to desperately grab at anything along the way down to slow the descent or prop myself up with any kind of certainty or perceived stability that might break my fall. This tendency reveals itself in all kinds of forms doesn’t it?

But when I’m in that plane falling from the sky I have this unique ability to trust that everything is going to be fine and all will work just as it should. The pilots are going to execute their training just like they always have, the wings are going to glide us through the air just as they were designed to, the landing gear is gonna roll out and catch us safely on the concrete when we finally make contact…you feel me? I don’t feel the need to come behind the pilot and double check his/her list. I don’t climb down into the belly of the plane to inspect the gear. I don’t try to manipulate, control, or influence the process. Unless I’m trying to finagle more free whiskey, I let things go as they do.

I’m coming to a point in my life where I’m finally learning to trust that everything is going to be fine and all will work just as it should. If I can just fight the fearful urge to grasp onto every piece of shit that, in the moment, I convince myself will help me control this fall then maybe, just maybe, I’ll have the chance to see and experience that what I’m falling into is good. That where I end up at the end of the day is right where I need to be. Maybe, in this place of trust, I can let go of my need to control, manipulate, or influence the process and just give myself to the fall, the flow of things.

We don’t like to talk about it this way, but we’re falling.

The choice we have, then, is to yield to the process, the fall, and trust that the Divine Energy of life itself is moving us towards the good. Everything is going to be just fine.

We’re going to be just fine.