Our childhood went in a place near an airport. The flights would take off sooner or later, and listening to the sound we would run out of house catch the sight of it. The lower the flying height of the plane, the more majestic is the view. How nice these birds look!
Many flights in life later, I still have the same excitement of takeoff in a flight. Same thrill to see the sky from the window. The houses and rivers and buildings and cars becoming smaller and smaller. The time above clouds. Looking from there, one reckons that there are people living in those homes just like me. People going to work, travelling around, just like me. And in that state of flying one realises how small the interpersonal issues are. How we live fighting with each other for silly reasons. How insignificant one’s life is in the canvas of space, time and whole universe.
A little while touchdown later, I also get back to my usual mindset. The usual thought streams. Things to do, plans for future, worries about this and that. Only to recall at times the experience in flight and feel relieved from the mind-stuff.