That was cool.
Normally, continued engagement with the seats in front or behind would anger me, but watching the young boy in my row play clapping games with the even younger girl in front of him made me almost as happy as them, the joy on their faces quickly spreading to mine.
Even cooler than not being angry? I forgot to be afraid, and forgetting my fear was much better than sharing it, which I had done on my previous flight. That time I sat with a man who exclaimed happily as I joined him in the last row, “Good news! Passengers in the back of the plane are the most likely to survive a crash!”
I smiled at meeting another fearful passenger, and ended up chatting comfortably with him much of our time together. But knowing that I was sharing the super tense moments of take-off and landing with another anxious person did not ease my anxiety — in fact, knowing that he was having the same horrible thoughts as me only intensified them.
But those kids erased my anxiety completely. Instead of listening for doom I heard delighted laughs and giggles, making me splash happily in the waves of life that I was being forced to wade in instead of just waiting to drown in death.
And that was very cool.
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