Somewhere over the rain....

After much anxiety, stress, and worry, I settled back into my coach seat with a glass of Jack Daniels in my hand. I was re-reading a book by one of my favorite authors of Western style Buddhism. I took a deep breath. I started to relax and the feelings of worry started to settle. I was not rid of my worry, but instead I didn’t let it bother me. Acceptance. My mind felt  sore from being so would up for the past few days. I looked over out the window and I saw it. It was a patch of rainbow and we were flying above it. Maybe that’s what the top of a rainbow looks like.

  Rainbows had become a symbol for me in New Zealand.  I went to New Zealand without knowing anyone and started over. At first I stressed out and I strived to be ok with my decision. Some days were better than others. When I despaired and reached a breaking point, I held on, and came back to center. After I accepted the situation, the universe reassured me that everything was fine. I would see a rainbow. I know- sounds crazy. And if you are familiar with New Zealand, rainbows aren’t that uncommon. But I would see them exactly when it mattered.  I faced difficult decisions out there and only after my decision was made AND I was OK with it, would I see a rainbow. I wasn’t a divine sign showing me the way, it was a sign that I would be fine regardless of what happened.

There were many instances, but one of them was pretty frightening. New Zealand’s weather changes incredibly fast making it difficult for predicting good hiking weather. I was on an alpine mountain crossing when it started to hail. It became so windy that twice I was knocked down on the ground. The ridge I was on was narrow and slippery from the hail. I couldn’t turn back, but I couldn’t go forward. I crouched on the side of the mountain, waiting for the weather to subside, but I was getting very cold and wet.  I had to keep going. I crawled along the ridge with a pack on my back until I could get up without being knocked down by the wind. As I crawled I thought, I might not make it. But I couldn’t let that bother me or else I would not make it. So I kept going, only focusing on my next steps. A few days later I was in the town nearest to that mountain. I was walking down the road, and I looked up. There was fresh snow on that mountain and a rainbow piercing the clouds. This wasn’t the only time this had happened.

So as I sat there, after all my stress about leaving again, I became OK with it. I knew I was doing this because I would be more unhappy not doing it. Regret, especially due to lack of resolve,  is my biggest fear.  I looked at the rainbow. Tears streaming down slowly over my cheeks as the rainbow slowly faded away.

I was content for the rest of the trip. It had been raining heavily heading into the San Francisco. The plane had been very shaky. It felt like I was in  a toy plane on a  mobile above a child’s crib. The rain was coming down hard, streaking against the windows sideways, making it look like cracks in the glass. There was no visibility. I expected air masks to shoot out suddenly in the dark cabin. I looked out the window again and I saw white peaks. Snow in California? I had no idea how high or where we were. Maybe the Sierra Nevada had snow? No. They were whitecaps in the ocean. The waves were violently protesting all the rain that it had taken in. I kept staring as we grew closer and closer to the water. I wasn’t sure why we were over the ocean when we flew from Chicago.

We flew closer and closer to the water. We were just barely above the waves. As we approached the ocean I braced for a water landing. I was terrified of drowning, but it didn’t matter. I had no control, no amount of worry would change anything. Suddenly there was a loud bang and with a harsh jolt we were airborne and then dropped back in our seats, feeling land under the wheels. We had landed. Everyone cheered. I didn’t know the tarmac paralleled the ocean in San Francisco. A wave of relief swept over me. My journey had begun.