You walk through the revolving doors into the hubbub of the vaulted terminal. Waiting in line, eyeing your fellow passengers, trying to juggle your luggage as you inch forward. The airline employee gesturing for the next in line, exchanging your luggage for little ticket stubs, your suitcases disappearing down the carousel.
Announcing your flight the cavernous hall reverberates. The metal detector silent as you're waved on towards duty-free for a last opportunity to acquire your travel necessities. Down an enclosed tube towards the waiting airplane. The plane shudders, the strong steel hand of the lead car pushing it back from the terminal. Aligned on the runway the plane hurtles forward, the buildings along the runway quickly blurring. A final pull upward and the sounds of friction disappear, replaced with the steady hum of the engine turbines. Plotting a steady course towards a place above the clouds above the weather.
At cruising altitude you make short-lived acquaintances, chatting with the friendly passenger to your right ignoring the unpleasant person to your left. Stewards efficiently run the in-cabin service, a courteous smile, a warm meal, the world below quickly disappearing into the horizon. Fasten your seatbelt signs flash as the descent begins. The wings quiver as they pass through the thick clouds, the world fast approaching, tires screeching on landing, the engines thrusting backwards as the plane races forward. Now you're facing the unsmiling immigration official demanding the reason for your journey.
The typical airline journey has interesting comparisons to the story of our existence. The mystics speak of a "treasury" filled with souls; in heaven they rest calmly, at home, unaware of their eventual purpose. The supernal terminal is abuzz with potential candidates, each awaiting its time, enjoying its last sparing moments of spiritual bliss. A soul is summoned forth, ejected from heaven, sailing forth towards earth, its bright light quickly dimming, waking to the new circumstances and constraints of a corporeal body, with few moments that permit it to crack the façade of physicality surrounding it.
From adolescence to adulthood strong influences guide our steady ascent; parents, teachers, calmly and firmly direct us to a place above the stormclouds. Through mid-life we steadily cruise, encountering expected and unexpected turbulences. Throwing out last year's calendar as another impossibly fast year goes by we soon find ourselves closer to the end than to the beginning, trying desperately to reverse the engines of time, reaching for times passed and opportunities missed. Too soon we find ourselves standing in front of an unsmiling immigration official who demands the purpose of a soul's terrifying journey.
Success for us in this life is being able to look at a mirror and not be disappointed with what stares back. But in the end the question we are asked is not if we were successful business people or good spouses. In the end the sole question we are asked is: to what end was a soul placed in a body, how often was your soul able to crack through the veneer of fake smiles and temporary enjoyments, through the trivial concerns of the body? Because in the end, those fleeting moments are all that's left as reasoning for the soul's long and at times painful journey.
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