I awoke in an airplane. A pretty decent airplane. I felt there was a reason for me to be here, and I'd better start working out what it is.
As time went on, I took stock of what I had going for me. A pretty good machine, enough food to eat, companionship, a family who loved me... not bad!
Since my life was happening on (in) the airplane, I threw myself into learning about it. What made it fly? How do you get it off the ground? How high is up?
Thankfully I would receive clues from others more worldly than me. "Never co-sign a loan" (a good one), "Save your money" another good one. "Work hard at what you love to do", "Choose your companions wisely". And so on.
Having come from a long line of men who "flew their own planes", my time spent working on other's flight plans has been relatively short: I worked for wages from high school until a couple of years after H.S.
After that, "the sky was the limit".
It has taken 2/3 of a lifetime to realize our journey (life) is like an assignment to fly a plane around the world.
I recall time spent trying to figure out what I would do, then how I would do it. The biggest moment of that period was realizing I had choices and they were more than just those I saw around me.
There were years spent climbing, gaining altitude, struggling to reach goals and milestones.
and
Years spent cruising at a fairly comfortable level, working but not struggling, worrying.It is evident as I see my 60th birthday on the calendar, that this airplane is coming down at some point.
But for the time being, I wouldn't mind taking it a few thousand feet higher first . . .
