Yesterday, on the 12-hour-long odyssey home from CHA in Orlando to Salt Lake City (which included a 2-hour wait after the shuttle had dropped me off at my airline and a 3-hour layover in Phoenix), I was surprised to have found a new friend.
When traveling to and from an industry event such as the semi-annual Craft & Hobby Association Convention, I find myself perusing the passengers, checking to see if there's anyone there I know. Because there are so many in my industry who hail from Salt Lake City, there usually is a handful of friendly faces on each flight as we make our way to the Magical Land of New Paper Crafting Product and then back home again.
As the time for my flight drew near, I scanned the crowd as per usual, and saw no one that I knew--and quite honestly, I was a little relieved. For I was extremely tired. After two long days of walking the showroom floor and trusting the waitress who had promised me the night before that it was, indeed, decaf in my cup--a fib that kept me up until past 2 in the morning--I was definitely looking forward to catching up on a little sleep, hopefully without any slack-jawed drooling.
Having procured my low A-number in the queue by registering online precisely 24 hours in advance for my Southwest Airlines flight the previous afternoon, I was able to get a window seat away from the Loud & Cranky Family I had noticed in the waiting area and had made a mental note to avoid. The plane gradually filled up, the aisle seat in my row was then taken, and as the remaining passengers filed on by, a thin, attractive woman was asking if anyone was sitting in the middle seat of my row. I would be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. Let's face facts. Everyone wants all the room they can get on an airplane. Not that I'm the tiniest of trims, but it was nice to know that I'd have a little elbow room on the 4-hour flight west now that she had chosen the empty spot beside me. I've suffered many a twisted, cramp-filled, uncomfortable flight after having sat by large, frequently flying, stingy-elbowed businessmen in my day. I'm just sayin'.
I felt a little badly that she was going to have to sit separately from her husband, but not so badly that I was willing to give up my window seat. After all, I arranged my very day so I could get the coveted low A-number in the queue from Southwest Airlines. So, I settled in with my current read, Saving Fish from Drowning, and waited for the flight to get underway.
As the flight attendants were squaring things away, you know, showing us how to fasten our seatbelts as though it were rocket science, telling us that we could use our seat cushions as flotation devices should we crash into some kind of frigid water, and reminding us to secure our own oxygen masks before those of the tiny, helpless souls we might care to rescue in the event of a tragic emergency, my seatmate took out a catalog from one of my favorite manufacturers, 7gypsies.
"You must have just came from CHA," I said.
"Yeah, I did," she returned. "Did you? What's your name?"
"I'm Cath. Cath Edvalson. I'm the creative editor of Paper Crafts magazine. Who are you?"
"Oh,OK. I'm Noell. Noell Hyman. I do subscription-based scrapbooking tutorials on a website called Paperclipping."
"Oh my gosh! I've heard of you, but I didn't know that you were you!" I said with enthusiasm.
Truth be told, I had just recently become aware of Noell as a result of her recent partnership with a blog called Scrapbook Update. Because of the recent sale of our company to New Track Media, and the requisite upheaval, I've been watching Scrapbook Update to see what has been reported about us. Hence, the name recognition.
Our conversation ignited immediately. One question after another, we each had something more that we wanted to learn from one another. We spent some time talking about our industry, but as the discovery process continued, we started to learn how much we have in common in our personal lives, which is a lot. It's not often that I run into someone who is as far down the path of sustainability as I am, and Noell is right there with me. She is a vegan and so we talked a lot about that, particularly with regard to how it compares to vegetarianism, which my daughter, Nicole, embraces. We also talked a lot about how difficult it is to determine where to draw the line between what you're able and willing to do to be "green," and what is beyond your capabilities at the time. As the flight progressed, one conversation jumped to another idea which took off in a new direction which landed onto something deep, profound, and heartfelt, and before we knew it 4 hours had passed without a single pause and we were in Phoenix and it was 106 degrees and time to move on to the next.
It's strange to think that if she had not sat in that empty seat next to me, I still would not really know who she is, and vice versa.
It's strange to think that if she hadn't sat in that empty seat next to me, our lives in this industry would have continued to run parallel to one another, unbeknownst to one another.
It's strange to think that I could have so much in common with someone I had never known, and that we could share so much with each other in such a short period of time.
Which all causes me to wonder: how many other people on that plane might I have connected with? How many flights have I been on where I don't even say "hello" to the person next to me, let alone make an attempt to get to know them?
I know that I'm not going to connect with everyone I sit by on an airplane, nor is it necessarily desirable. There are many flights, especially when I'm flying for work, when all I can manage is to put on my seatbelt and close my eyes and do a bit of the slack-jawed drool. But when push comes to shove, I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, we are all much, much more than just strangers on a plane.
