A while ago my wife and I were on a plane back into our home town of Boise, when the pilot came on with one of those announcements that you hear about, but never want to hear yourself. He told us that he had declared an emergency and that when we landed, we would have fire trucks and ambulances chasing us down the runway.
Apparently this was all out of ‘an abundance of caution’, and he didn’t think there was anything really wrong.
Yeah – and of course we all believed him completely, and sat there without concern.
Not. Since we had declared an emergency, we also got a direct line into Boise, with none of those twists and turns like usual. That brought us straight down through a couple of clouds and we got hit with turbulence like I’ve never felt before. Drinks in the back were spilling, people were freaking out, and I grabbed my phone and I messaged both of our kids telling them that I love them.
Good times.
My brain immediately went to work, realizing that we might have to exit the plane down those slides that look like so much fun that you never want to try it. I took items from the backpack that I might have to leave on the plane, putting them into my pockets in the event that the plane went up in a ball of flame.
And then I sat there with everybody else, knowing that we were in the hands of fate and the skill and wisdom of the two pilots up front.
For some reason my brain kept jumping back to the safety briefing that no-one really listens to, where they talk about putting on your mask first, and then helping others with theirs. I realized that I had essentially prepared myself, and was ready to help my wife and anyone else around us in whatever way I could.
I honestly have no idea what that was, because let’s face it, I’ve never slid down one of those slides before, but I was ready to help in whatever way I could.
The landing was great, the plane functioned perfectly, and as we taxied into the gate, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief as we all came to realization that things were going to be fine. Some people cried, some laughed. Some just held hands, some people didn’t seem like they’d even had a care in the world. Maybe they hadn’t, or maybe they had, but were just too cool to show it.
Who knows.
But as we drove home that evening, I realized that the lesson that they taught us in the briefing was really one that I had not been paying attention to, even though I've taught it to people so many times in coaching and teaching. On the plane I had taken care of myself, and then prepared to help others, and yet in my normal life, I have had a tendency to sacrifice my own needs in the service of others.
Which sounds really noble, and yet it was coming from a place where I felt I wasn’t worth being taken care of.
And yet I had an experience recently that was so profound that it will be a while before I share it, but that taught me that I was worthy of being taken care of, and that I had value in and of myself. And I realized that sacrificing your own humanity for others is not a sign of nobility or goodness, but it’s actually a sign of a fundamental separation from yourself.
And that wisdom is the understanding and the application of balance between yourself and the rest of the universe.
Because far too many of us spend our days believing that we are not enough, and that we have some terrible flaw that means that others deserve more than we do. I think it’s one of the fundamental problems of humanity that we haven’t yet worked our way through yet, and causes so much pain, so much sadness. So many people need to know who they really are.
And that they are worthy of love and joy.
So today, this is me teaching you what I call oxygen mask theory. That you are worthy of your own concern, and that you have a right to find peace, joy and happiness on your terms. And the funny thing is… when you’ve got yourself worked out and have found happiness, you’ll want to share it with others.
That’s how we change the world, one heart and one human at a time.
Wisdom, love and light.
Always.
— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings