Having just gotten off a 10 hour flight ✈️, I admit I am an aisle girl. But, the one time I did choose a window seat, per your recommendation, I witnessed a vision of grandeur I will never forget-- The Andes Mountains. Flying over those snow-capped peaks literally infused strength into the fabric of my being. I now use that visual feast as an anchor when I am stressed or overwhelmed. I close my eyes and put myself back in that window seat 💺 and inhale the power of those mountains. For me, home is a window seat overlooking the Andes.
I adore this. I just found your newsletter and it's so refreshing. Instant subscribe.
This piece makes me think of when I was flying back from San Diego last fall. I was thinking how planes are liminal spaces, hovering between two destinations. I like to journal when I'm on them, because there's something about being suspended between Before and After, Here and There, that makes my brain more malleable. I think it's because there isn't anything I need to be doing at that moment, or really can be doing. I give myself permission to just sit and be with my thoughts.
There is nothing like the bird's-eye-view. The expansive perspective that I often imagine, but when sitting in a plane, I get to actually SEE. It's mesmerizing.
The first time on an airplane I was about 16 years old, and traveling from Phoenix Arizona, to a weekend party in Nashville Tennessee, as the guest of an older friend. I remember wanting to just stare out the window at the ground beneath us, but feeling obligated to be social with my host. The contrast to this were the multiple trips from NYC to Tokyo as an adult and spending the entire 14 hours of flight in my own empty row, staring in silence out the little window at stretches of the northern lands, white with snow, almost imperceptibly being obscured by clouds, only to be revealed again until at some point having the vast sea, blue-purple replacing the white. I wonder if we some how prefer the limited view a tiny window, or picture frame, or computer screen offer us to the vast and intimidating, but still limited, view the little windows in our heads offer us. I have sailed upon a small boat out on the ocean, and stood on deck with no limitations of picture frames, or windows, and able to turn my head to fully realize that for 360 degrees the only limitation I had infront of me was the line where the sea met the sky, and my feet met the deck and the deck the sea again. It was almost too much for my human heart and mind to ingest. I don't fly anymore, for multiple reasons, but definitely to avoid the limitations of seeing the world thru yet another tiny frame. Peace.
I have always been a window seat gal, and it paid off in spades during my flight from Kathmandu to Nepalganj when I got to spend the entirety of the flight staring at Mount Everest. Excited to read the remaining stories!
Love this perspective, Candace, can’t wait to read more! (And you know I adore your illustrations ;).
I certainly appreciate the window views and love taking pictures in the clouds. But I’m an aisle seat girl all the way. For me it’s not as much about the bathroom, which IS a good thing, as it is about the freedom. I get to go where I want when I want. I hate feeling stuck or constrained in general, and a sleeping giant next to me can certainly elicit those feelings! Funny, I never thought about it this way. Thanks for making me think! 💛
On those far too frequent flights when I left my family for places most people don't want to travel to, I would hide my face against the cold window and no one could see the tears in my eyes. On the return flights home weeks later, when I tried to make sense of the cruelty, the despair, and the suffering I witnessed in those places most people don't want to think about, and I a broken vessel because of what I witnessed, could hide my face against the window again as the tears came and I prayed for the world that somehow there might be room somewhere in human hearts for peace, goodwill, and grace.
Sitting in a window seat on a Tupelov TU-154 (pro tip: avoid flying on a TU-154), I compressed myself against the window to avoid the sharp elbow jabs from the passenger sitting to my left. When I finally turned to see who was elbowing me, I looked into the Cabbage Patch doll face of a grinning, nearly toothless babushka who was offering me a sandwich made from thin lavash bread and shashlik (barbecued sheep butt fat). The grease was congealing into rivulets down her arm and pooling in her elbow. Her smile was so endearing and insistent that vegetarian me felt compelled to accept her hospitality. It is more noble to die from food poisoning than to reject the heartwarming generosity of a sweet little babushka.
Love this. As an immigrant living on the opposite side of the globe from family, longhaul flights are a necessary evil in my life. But they have also been an incredible portal of meditative alone time where life reveals new insights, yearnings and wonderings as I hover above my daily life, suspended in a dream-like state for 24 hours. I look forward to reading more 😊
Having just gotten off a 10 hour flight ✈️, I admit I am an aisle girl. But, the one time I did choose a window seat, per your recommendation, I witnessed a vision of grandeur I will never forget-- The Andes Mountains. Flying over those snow-capped peaks literally infused strength into the fabric of my being. I now use that visual feast as an anchor when I am stressed or overwhelmed. I close my eyes and put myself back in that window seat 💺 and inhale the power of those mountains. For me, home is a window seat overlooking the Andes.
ALL THE FEELS.
This window-seater will be captivated ...
I adore this. I just found your newsletter and it's so refreshing. Instant subscribe.
This piece makes me think of when I was flying back from San Diego last fall. I was thinking how planes are liminal spaces, hovering between two destinations. I like to journal when I'm on them, because there's something about being suspended between Before and After, Here and There, that makes my brain more malleable. I think it's because there isn't anything I need to be doing at that moment, or really can be doing. I give myself permission to just sit and be with my thoughts.
I LOVE this post. And window every time.
There is nothing like the bird's-eye-view. The expansive perspective that I often imagine, but when sitting in a plane, I get to actually SEE. It's mesmerizing.
Beautifully illustrated; wonderful insight. Thank you for this.
beautiful pictures! They feel so serene.
Ooooo, I'm looking forward to the coming weeks! Candace, you are a treasure - so grateful I found your Substack. :-D
Those paintings. Oh. Just beautiful.
The first time on an airplane I was about 16 years old, and traveling from Phoenix Arizona, to a weekend party in Nashville Tennessee, as the guest of an older friend. I remember wanting to just stare out the window at the ground beneath us, but feeling obligated to be social with my host. The contrast to this were the multiple trips from NYC to Tokyo as an adult and spending the entire 14 hours of flight in my own empty row, staring in silence out the little window at stretches of the northern lands, white with snow, almost imperceptibly being obscured by clouds, only to be revealed again until at some point having the vast sea, blue-purple replacing the white. I wonder if we some how prefer the limited view a tiny window, or picture frame, or computer screen offer us to the vast and intimidating, but still limited, view the little windows in our heads offer us. I have sailed upon a small boat out on the ocean, and stood on deck with no limitations of picture frames, or windows, and able to turn my head to fully realize that for 360 degrees the only limitation I had infront of me was the line where the sea met the sky, and my feet met the deck and the deck the sea again. It was almost too much for my human heart and mind to ingest. I don't fly anymore, for multiple reasons, but definitely to avoid the limitations of seeing the world thru yet another tiny frame. Peace.
Love this Candace. It brought back amazing memories especially the snippet in the ships around Singapore. Such a strong memory for me.
I have always been a window seat gal, and it paid off in spades during my flight from Kathmandu to Nepalganj when I got to spend the entirety of the flight staring at Mount Everest. Excited to read the remaining stories!
Love this perspective, Candace, can’t wait to read more! (And you know I adore your illustrations ;).
I certainly appreciate the window views and love taking pictures in the clouds. But I’m an aisle seat girl all the way. For me it’s not as much about the bathroom, which IS a good thing, as it is about the freedom. I get to go where I want when I want. I hate feeling stuck or constrained in general, and a sleeping giant next to me can certainly elicit those feelings! Funny, I never thought about it this way. Thanks for making me think! 💛
Window.
On those far too frequent flights when I left my family for places most people don't want to travel to, I would hide my face against the cold window and no one could see the tears in my eyes. On the return flights home weeks later, when I tried to make sense of the cruelty, the despair, and the suffering I witnessed in those places most people don't want to think about, and I a broken vessel because of what I witnessed, could hide my face against the window again as the tears came and I prayed for the world that somehow there might be room somewhere in human hearts for peace, goodwill, and grace.
Sitting in a window seat on a Tupelov TU-154 (pro tip: avoid flying on a TU-154), I compressed myself against the window to avoid the sharp elbow jabs from the passenger sitting to my left. When I finally turned to see who was elbowing me, I looked into the Cabbage Patch doll face of a grinning, nearly toothless babushka who was offering me a sandwich made from thin lavash bread and shashlik (barbecued sheep butt fat). The grease was congealing into rivulets down her arm and pooling in her elbow. Her smile was so endearing and insistent that vegetarian me felt compelled to accept her hospitality. It is more noble to die from food poisoning than to reject the heartwarming generosity of a sweet little babushka.
Love this. As an immigrant living on the opposite side of the globe from family, longhaul flights are a necessary evil in my life. But they have also been an incredible portal of meditative alone time where life reveals new insights, yearnings and wonderings as I hover above my daily life, suspended in a dream-like state for 24 hours. I look forward to reading more 😊