I've spent a bit of time on planes this month. Most of my flights have been at night. Flights are just to be tolerated, you know, for the sheer convenience of not having to drive hours and hours. One of the most welcome moments is when they announce "Ladies and gentlemen, we've begun our descent into xxxx. (wherever you're headed...) Please be seated, stow your tray tables, return your seats to the upright position and fasten your seat belts." It's welcome because the flight is almost over, but also because you can once again see something out of the window besides clouds or just black night.
As I look down on city xxxx from the heights, I can see lights. Big lights, small lights. Lights that look like shopping centers, highways or neighborhoods with cul-de-sacs. The patterns of the lights identify the type of place. Some are white, most are yellowish from the great height. Of course there are red lights, too. The red ones you can see from above are found mostly on tower-like structures as if they are saying "Danger! Please don't hit us, Mr. Airplane!" The red lights serve as a warning.
I was also intrigued, whilst on one of my evening flights, at the variety of styles and colors of lights on the takeoff runway. I noticed at one point the the giant plane I was on (an A320 EOW, according to the safety card) was surrounded by lines of white lights with blue ones off to the side. However, the nose of the plane followed one straight line of green lights down the runway. The color and path created by those green lights led us down the runway into the sky.
We compare ourselves to lights sometimes. We encourage each other to SHINE and be the STAR that you are! These comparisons have to do with finding your inner strength and doing your best. But what if we are meant to be a different type of light? What if our main purpose in "shining" is to guide others? Suppose we are part of a team that forms the line of green lights to help someone else take off?
After 9/11, one of my favorite artists, Peter Frampton, realeased a song that expressed his views on how to deal with that horrible tragedy. He mentions holding hands, singing songs, and not forgetting. What spoke to me, though, was a refrain that repeats over and over near the end: "Find your light, turn it on, shine it down on everyone." You can hear it here. The light part happens at about 2:10:
Peter Frampton - Not Forgotten
In the end, Peter says (sorry for the familiarity, I feel I know him!), we can help others by "shining our light on everyone". I want to go a step further and say that we don't need to wait for a tragedy to shine. We are all lights. Perhaps we warn, maybe we illuminate for clear understanding, we might even encourage action like a green traffic light! Some may even have the tactful skill of acting as a yellow or red traffic light by gently guiding friends or loved ones away from danger or bad decisions. I want to encourage everyone to find your light, turn it on, let it shine on everyone; the individual that needs our light may be someone very close or an utter stranger. "Shine like the star you are" doesn't necessarily mean you're on stage. Our lives are our stage and our daily activities can be lit-up runways, welcoming porch lights or even a red stop light. Shine on no matter who is watching - or not. Everyone is on a journey and you might be the one that helps light their way.
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