Roadside Meditation

Yesterday I flew from Jamaica to Trinidad. The flight is a long one – not because of distance, but because of the circuitous route. As the crow flies, the flight would take about two hours and fifteen minutes: because of the routing through Antigua and Barbados, the flight takes six hours.

I knew I was in for a special experience when I was greeted at the door by the captain! Captain Larry Edgehill is an airline captain like no other I have ever flown with. After greeting and welcoming all passengers at the door, he walked up and down the aisles shaking our hands, introducing himself and welcoming us aboard. Prior to take-off, he made the usual announcements not from the cockpit but at the head of the aisle. He was visible to all. Anyone who has a fear of flying would surely have been comforted by the calm, smiling, assuring presence of Captain Edgehill.

When I pointed out to the stewardess how wonderful it was to have such a captain, she said “You ain’t seen nothing yet – there’s more”. And so it was. Captain Edgehill introduced his crew to us, he told us which pilot would actually be at the controls on each leg, he gave us a flying tour of every island we passed, he told us what was happening every step of the way. And when new passengers boarded in Antigua and Barbados he congratulated and thanked them for boarding so quickly and efficiently and for choosing Caribbean Airlines. He engaged us all, making us feel a part of this flight.

So I was in quite a state of bliss by the time I landed in Trinidad. My happiness was magnified thousandfold when I was greeted by my “big son” Marc, whom I had not seen in five months. We set off so happily for my hotel, starting what we knew would be hours of sharing precious mum/son time catching up with each other.

Or so we thought ….. the universe had other plans! It was a rainy night, and as we drove along, one of those ubiquitous potholes, lurking under a still veneer of water, invited us in and asked us to stay awhile. We accepted and fell into the pothole, exiting with a flat tyre. After fifteen minutes of so of struggling to change the flat, nay busted tyre, Marc realised that a part had broken off and the car was moving not one metre more. We were stuck in the rain on a lonely road in Port of Spain. The journey ended with my arrival at the portals of the Trinidad Hilton – in a tow truck! I had to laugh – surely this was a first for the Hilton (the bell captain confirmed this). In bidding me goodnight, Mr. Williams, the absolutely delightful and efficient angel who drove the truck, apologised for the perturbance. I asked him “Do I look perturbed?” “Not in any way at all” he laughingly responded.

And as I reflect on the sequence of events, I finally understood what meditation is all about. Standing by the roadside, all sorts of thoughts went through my mind – why did this have to happen, Trinidad is rife with kidnapping, crime is up in Port of Spain, gunmen might be lurking in the bushed, I have all my luggage with me – suppose someone comes by and steals it – and more. All of these thoughts floated by, I observed them, but gave no energy to them. I realise that I was in a state of meditation at the roadside. I was still, present, calm, simply watching my thoughts come and go. Time stood still – both Marc and I marvelled at how quickly the tow truck had come. There was no worry – just ease, grace, joy. I was happy, there in the rain on the deserted roadside in Trinidad with my son. All was truly well with my world. It was bliss.

How comforting to know that I can be in meditation at any time, in any place and situation. For we normally think that we need a quiet spot (well, actually the roadside WAS very quiet), we need to prepare (hmmm – maybe Captain Edgehill was the preparation), we need to be seated a certain way. I learned last night that meditation is not something we do, but a state of being. And I learned that I can be that way with only one condition – I must be present to the moment, and nothing else.