I’m convinced that my practice has helped me become more patient (in general) and more accepting of what I can and cannot change. Upon attempting to return home about a week ago from a work trip, the Universe decided to have me run a small gauntlet.
It didn’t start out that way though. At first, the trip started out perfect.
I had called a cab the day before and scheduled a pick up time. The cab showed up exactly at the arranged time. We got to the airport with no problem. There was really no line to speak of in security. I got through relatively quickly (they had to search my backpack, but it turned out it was all the fudge I was trying to take home that raised alarms). I found a restaurant for breakfast, was seated, and was served immediately.
My plane was already there when I rolled up to the gate. I got on with no problem. We pulled in to the Detroit airport about three gates down from my connecting flight (which was also already at the gate!). This was going so well.
I had upgraded my seats for the trip home so I had more leg room. As I boarded the plane in Detroit, I discovered that I had my little row all to myself. We all got on, the doors were shut, and we were ready to push back.
And then we weren’t.
Turns out there was an issue with an air traffic control computer in Virginia. What it meant was flights along the east coast had been shut down. There was no flying in and out of Raleigh – period – until the issue was resolved. At first, I chose to stay on the plane because our pilot suspected we had an hour at best until we left. I stretched out across the seats and read. But eventually it became clear we had no idea when we would leave and so he kicked us all off.
However, we were told not to stray too far because we would likely be boarding again soon.
I was hungry, but I was also wary of wandering off in search of food. So I accepted that the only thing within sight distance of my gate was a Popeye’s Chicken. I got myself some chicken and took it back to the gate. Let’s just say that didn’t pan out well with my stomach.
Eventually, around 4:30, we were able to leave Detroit. I had spent 5 1/2 hours there. So now we’re off. The flight itself was fine. And then we went in for a landing.
It was obvious we were going down and about to land, but then we suddenly pulled back up and started heading in the wrong direction. Turns out, the pilot hadn’t come down enough to land and needed to circle back around and do it again. This added maybe 10 minutes on to the flight. It’s not a big deal EXCEPT when you’ve been stuck in an airport for 5 1/2 hours and just want to get home after being gone an entire week.
We landed. I had my bags with me, and I headed to my car.
I got in the elevator to take me to the 4th floor of the parking deck. A family of three got in with me. Right as we pulled up to the fourth floor the elevator stopped just a tad shy of being even with the floor and able to open.
It. Just. Stopped.
We all looked at each other. I said, “I’m sorry. This is about me. This is the kind of day that I’m having.”
The elevator inched up a bit. Then stopped. Then inched up a bit. Then stopped. Then, it finally got itself even with the floor. It stopped completely and did nothing.
I had been so freaking patient all day long, and now this. Now I couldn’t get out of the elevator.
“I’m going to hit this [the open door] button,” I said out loud to the Universe, “and you are going to open this door. I have been very patient all day. Enough.”
I am sure I sounded like a crazy person to the people in the elevator with me. But the door opened. I thanked The Universe in my head and moved on with my life.
Back in my car.
Back to yoga.