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Without fail each time I board I flight, I contemplate mortality. I pause and look around me at the folks on board.

“Who would I turn to if the flight went down and I only had one other person to mutter out my deepest wishes before dying?”

Or would I just be a witness to them as they spoke about their children and how they wanted more for their life?! Or would the person next to me just let out a long sigh and smile as the plane went down?

Super morbid – I know. I grew up seeing 9/11 so it’s not all my fault. I am of the generation that doesn’t remember just showing up to the airport without security. I’ve only known the world of panicked flying showing up hours before the flight, waiting in long lines, and hoping you didn’t leave a water bottle anywhere accidentally.

I remember in highschool I got through security once with chocolate milk in my backpack. I felt like I had just gotten away with a crime or pulled off a prank – panic and joy and amazement that I wasn’t stopped. I don’t know any different.

Ironically enough, I was put on a flight when I was less than 24 hours old after my parents picked me up from the hospital in Pasadena, CA. Life and contemplating death all in one act these days. It’s bizarre to think about. Magically, I have somehow not been deterred from flying despite these thoughts. Being reminded of mortality can be incredibly enlightening and focusing afterall 🙂