I’ve talked about my aversion to turbulence, both in air and life. The feeling is one we all know, our emotions crunch inside of us and the unsteady terrain delivers a continuous stream of uncertainty. There is very little comfort in those kind of moments. You have to sit in it, your mind tricks you into believing that you are locked into this irregular flow of varying emotions: fear, anxiety, and ambiguity.
The last few months I’ve certainly struggled with this overwhelming sense of chaos. I’ve asked myself questions that echo in my daily life: What is my purpose? What is this life trying to teach me? How can I be more present to appreciate what persists in my everyday? What ordinary graces am I ignoring? Pondering these questions rocks my core. Because, of course, those inquisitions are so clear and confusing at the same time.
It is so, so easy to get mired in these wonderings, mulling over what is and isn’t. I know that there, quite realistically, may never be a definitive answer to my questions.
But sometimes what the universe is whispering to you becomes more evident.
As I sat on the plane with my daughter, I hear the grinding, its voice clearing its throat. We are mid-flight, the air is smooth and then suddenly it happens. The up and down rocky feeling of turbulence. I see a few heads moving up and down, life-size bobble-heads shaking, and almost instantly, my hands sweat and I am convinced all the other passengers hear my heart beating.
My daughter leans into me and swings her head in my direction, grips my hand, and says, “Momma, I will hold your hand as tight as I can. Don’t be scared.”
I try to control the tears brimming in my eyes. This little girl helps me understand. There is turbulence everyday, in some form or another. But there is also, in all our lives, loved ones who are right there with us. Willing to hold our hands.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
What a sweet and wonderful girl you have!
Your daughter is sweet and amazing!
Oh my goodness that brought tears to my eyes. You words and thoughts are always so beautiful.
I love it when our kids surprise us like that. You don’t expect them to take care of you, you don’t expect to lean on them because you’re the mom and you’re the one being leaned on not doing the leaning. But then they surprise us by reminding us family goes both ways, right?
Jennifer,
I agree. She reveals herself everyday with various questions and statements. Each time I am reminded how much she helps me even though she is still a child. Thanks for visiting.
That was so sweet of your daughter!
Beautiful. It helps to have a loved one to hold our hand as we walk through turbulent times.
Those loved ones to hold your hand through turbulence are not a given. You are right to appreciate their presence.
A beautiful piece, Rudri.
Your daughter is an incredibly strong human being.
To be able to respond to vulnerability with tenderness and not fear or denial is a gift not all of us get to experience, on the giving or the receiving end.
Sounds like a much more pleasant experience then when I was flying with my little one and we hit turbulence to which his response was to scream at the top of his lungs, “We’re going to crash!!!!” True story.
But in all seriousness, beautiful moments like this litter the world with the crazy dots of love that make up the fabric of why we make life. Your words also bring me back to a favorite quote of mine:
” We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell
Because isn’t it the turbulence of life that keeps us ever changing? We think we are on a path only to have it altered.
What an amazing moment for you both. I love when our children become the teachers. Even if only for a moment.
Lovely, although I’m inclined to take a dramamine and keep one eye on that air sickness bag. Here’s to softness in flight and safety in landing. Namaste
Your sweet one is wise beyond her years.
I have goosebumps after reading this. This is a beautiful, important lesson that you share with us. And I am grateful for your honesty and beautiful words as they help me on my own journey of acceptance. So lovely. Thank you.
I love how sweet daughters can me!
Daughters can be sweet and sensitive and so kind when you needed the most. Thanks for visiting.