by Ayn Dillard
“It’s beautiful and I’m so glad you’re not married. What do you do? You said something about writing?”
“Only you ARE married, right?”
“Only for a few more months—what is it that you do?”
“I write for several publications and am beginning to do research for a collaboration with a financial advisor. Also, I’m writing a healing book. It’s about how limiting beliefs, imprints and our perceptions of them taken in from our families and others create our beliefs, choices and life without us being aware of it. I show examples based on my childhood experiences. Then go on to show what these beliefs created in my life. In the last part of the book, I explain a process to assist in the release of limiting imprints and beliefs.”
“Sounds very interesting.”
“I’m also a stress management consultant and work occasionally with learning challenged children. I use right/ left brain integration, kinesiology along with other techniques and modalities. I also do some voice over work and fashion trunk shows.”
“You sound busy. How’d you decide to learn about this kinesiology stuff?”
“I was in a terrible mental state after my divorce and was having a crisis in my spirit and went to both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. They did nothing but cost me a lot of money and put me on Prozac. I don’t like to take drugs. Prozac may have helped me for about a month, but I could tell physically that the medication was making me feel strange. Being sensitive to drugs, I try to avoid them, unless absolutely necessary. I met a woman in a social situation who introduced me to techniques that shifted me out of the stress. I got off the Prozac and began to feel better each day. I began dealing with issues and having all sorts of remembrances from my childhood which really helped me understand why I kept recreating exactly what I didn’t want in my life. Having so much awareness and learning so much about myself, I began to feel better than I ever had in my life. I wanted to learn the techniques that helped me, so I could help others. I want to give this gift of awareness to others. After going through so much in my life, I thought this must be one of the reasons for it—to share what I’ve experienced with others. In college, I studied special education focused on hearing and learning disabilities along with behavioral and developmental psychology. I didn’t like what I was learning in the psychology classes then. My interest wasn’t sparked and what they were teaching at the time seemed bizarre and ineffective. My interest has reemerged—concepts, and awareness have grown and I like learning about the mind, emotions and physical connection. I began to write about it and about my life. Now, I write monthly columns in several magazines around the area along with articles in newspapers.”
“Interesting, what magazines do you write for? Would I have seen any of them?”
“Lots of them, Women’ magazines, Health and Fitness ones, community newspapers among others, but right now, I’ve put most everything on the back burner to work on a book collaboration. What part of Dallas do you live in?”
“Park Cities area—all the things you do sound very interesting. You must be artistic.”
“That’s a nice part of Dallas. I’d like to live further into Dallas. My house is on the market. I’ve lived in it alone for over four years since my divorce. It’s large. I stay mostly in the master suite, living room, and kitchen. Yes, most everything I’ve ever done has its basis in being creative, ballet, fashion, interior design and now writing.”
“You look like an artist because you have an exotic appearance.”
“Exotic, huh? Several friends live in the area where you do. I participate in fashion trunk shows four times a year with a friend who lives on Colgate. You might live close to her?”
“Yeah, Colgate is close to me. It’s a great area for my kids—good school system. I’ll stay in the area after my divorce, in an apartment, after I move out of the house. I’ll always stay close to my kids and their school.”
“You’re still living with your wife? I thought, you said, you were separated?”
“I live there only for convenience sake. She’s a flight attendant and we never see each other. It’s more like we’re roommates with children to care for. I’m staying in the house through the holidays, but sleep on the sofa. Then I’ll go to Atlanta in March for a month of flight training and will movie out when I return. I’ve had these plans for quite a while.”
“Is your wife aware of all your plans?”
“Oh yes, it’s been developing for years.”
“How’d you meet your wife?”
“I went through a phase when I was running in a lot of races and there was this flight attendant, I kept hearing about who had won a lot of races. I wanted to meet the woman who was winning all of the races—to talk with her about running. One day, as I was leaving the aircraft, I went down to the galley and there was a flight attendant straightening up. I asked if she’d ever heard of the woman who is winning so many races, she snapped, “Why do you want to know? Explained I was a runner and I just wanted to talk with the woman. She replied, “Well, I’m the runner.” I was so surprised because this was the very girl that I’d been searching for. She was really cute, so we began to date. We had running in common and she was fun. We don’t have much in common anymore other than the children. My children are very important to me. The bad relationship between my wife and me is beginning to affect my children and I don’t want this to happen.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you love her a lot when you married her?”
“No, not really, like I said, she was attractive and a fun date.”
“Then why in the world would you make the commitment of marriage?”
Confused sad face, “Don’t really know, lonely or maybe because it was time to get married. She wanted to marry, but for me I really don’t know. At one time, she was great looking. In the beginning, I was very attracted to her physically but she’s let herself go.” Shakes his head disapprovingly, “Some days, she doesn’t even bother to bathe or get dressed for the whole day. She’s not interested in romance or sex. Have you heard the joke about what a wife says to her husband while they’re making love?”
“I don’t know, maybe? There’re a lot of jokes like that. Perhaps, your wife’s just going through a phase or a rough time. People do that, you know? Can just get ‘grumped’ out for a while then come out of it and become their self again.”
Stressfully, “This has been going on for years and I’ve done everything I know to do. It’s time to get out. I’ve planned and thought about it for a long time. When she drinks, she goes wild. I’ve heard some stories about her through other airline personnel. There’re some outrageously wild things she’s done on layovers. Plus, she’s done pretty crazy things with the children, too. Fortunately, I have some things on her.” He gets more upset while talking. “The joke is the one about the wife just lying there like she’s dead while her husband makes love to her. Then she looks up and says. ‘You know, we ought to paint the ceiling beige.’ That’s exactly how my wife is. This is what I’m living with now” becomes more upset, “Everything I say she argues with. No matter what it is, she just argues. It’s really beginning to affect the children and I don’t want that to happen. I think one of the most important things for a child to experience is a good relationship between the adults in their lives.” His face appears pensive and sad, “The children—my children are very important to me.”
“I’m sorry—you’re going through such a difficult time. Divorce is awful and there’s not much to date out here. Yes, I got it—the joke and have heard it before.” As I think to myself—it’s a stupid, insulting joke. “I had husbands who were the same way, once we were married the romance, fun and sex went right out the window and they turned into old men trying to escape life as they nursed their addictions. I need lots of romance and believe experiencing joy and fun are what makes life worthwhile. Sex is certainly an important part of it all. I don’t see why getting married has to change everything so much. Only reason, I’d get married again is for
the sex, romance and love. Relationships are strange. People say they want something. Then when they get it, they don’t really want it, or perhaps they can’t handle having it. Sometimes, it seems as if people destroy happiness just for the sake of its destruction. As if they’re happier being unhappy. Like they don’t think they really deserve to be loved and be happy. My last husband told me he was happier than he’d ever been in his whole life the first month after we got married. Then he proceeded to treat me horribly. As if he purposefully set out to destroy what he had and he did a real good job in its destruction.”
“Um, I tried to do things to try to bring the romance back into the marriage such as sending her a rose and asking her to meet me at Café Pacific. She thought that it was stupid and wanted to ride together. She doesn’t get it. So, you can see what I’m dealing with.”
Laughing, “Well, I get it.” I ponder, interesting, we both didn’t have in our marriages what we both want and need—romance. We’re both romantics looking for fun and adventure. If my husband had done for me—what he did for his wife, I’d have thought it was wonderful, but the men I married didn’t have the creative juices to think of things romantic and sexy.
“I even have to buy her underwear. Can you believe it? I buy all of my wife’s underwear. I like sexy underwear, especially panties. She wore awful underwear. Bless her heart, she just doesn’t get it.”
“Really? Well, I love sexy lingerie and wear thongs.” I blush in embarrassment and shock—why in the world did I give him that bit of information? Either, I’m really tired or totally losing it.
“Well, I’d love to see that in-shape rear of yours in a pair of thong underwear.”
I laugh nervously with a bit of flirtation as I try to recover, “I can’t believe, I said that. I must be so tired I can’t think.” I am certain my face is beet red as we laugh and he changes the subject.
He asks, “What do you like to do in Dallas? What’s your favorite place to eat?”
“I like the restaurant you mentioned. Café Pacific—it’s one of my favorites.”
“Yes, the bar there’s great. It’s one of my favorite restaurants, too—a relaxing atmosphere. I like to go to the Mansion for a special evening. The piano bar’s a nice place to dance—makes for a romantic evening.”
“Really, I think so, too. I can’t believe that in Dallas we like the same places and haven’t run into one another. So, you like to dance?”
He comments, “I love to dance.”
“Me too.”
As we chat, I begin to feel a connection to this man. As if I’ve known him for a longtime, instead of for just the hour or so that we’ve been sitting together. We gaze into each other’s eyes as if we’re afraid to look away. We continue our conversation about all sorts of things, interrupted only when I get up to use the restroom. The more we learn about each other—the more fun we’re having.
I ask, “What color was your hair before it turned silver? Was it dark like mine? Since your eyes are dark, I thought it might be.”
“No, it wasn’t as dark and as rich a color as yours—just brown.”
The Captain has an off-beat sense of humor and a wonderful laugh. I like the sound of his voice. As the plane begins to descend, it gets very turbulent. The pilot of the airplane announces for the passengers to fasten their seat belts because there’s light rain storms and we may not be able to land because, at this time DFW is closed.
I exclaim, “I need to run back to the restroom one more time before I buckle up.”
“Okay, but be careful.” He warns as he smiles and chuckles.
I overhear a flight attendant. “Oh no, a lady just went into the restroom.”
I am in the restroom when it becomes wildly turbulent and I almost fall off, but hold on tight as I laugh. Hope, this isn’t my version of Airplane ’96! Quickly, I rush back to my seat, almost falling as I go. I feel more excitement than fear and it’s exhilarating. “Okay captain, what’s going on? It’s getting really rough.” As I think, I am so glad that I’m sitting next to an experienced airline pilot, who’ll know exactly what’s occurring.
“They always say light rain storms so as to not frighten the passengers, but what they really mean is heavy thunderstorms and if they’re bad enough for the airport to be closed, there must be a front of them. So, buckle up tight.” He reaches over and tightens my seat belt, “Your seat belt is too loose. You sure picked a fine time to go to the restroom—huh? Did you get wet?”
I laugh, “No, but almost.” With the escalating turbulence, I’m beginning to have flashbacks to my flight coming back from Little Rock and I panic. “May I hold your hand? I’m nervous with all this bumping about.”
“Sure, you bet.”
He takes my hand as he looks intently into my eyes and I look up at him. Our touch is magic. It’s as if it connects us to one another, God, the universe and everything wonderful. It’s as if I can read his thoughts as he questions internally, ‘Wow, did you feel that?’ He begins to speak, but doesn’t as our eyes lock. I turn my head to look out the window to break from the intensity of the moment and take a deep breath. God yes, I feel it. There’s an incredible amount of electricity between us. With our hands clasped tightly, Boyd rubs the back of my hand with his finger tips. Our touch is beyond magic. I turn my face back towards his—the Captain looks into my eyes revealing happiness and wonderment. “Did you feel that when we touched? Wow! I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
I hesitate, “Yes—yes, I did.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“Kiss me? Ridiculous! You just met me?”
“Yes, but I’ve wanted to kiss you since, the first moment I saw you.”
I look into his eyes and smile. Sitting beside this man is the most comfortable feeling I can ever remember. If the plane crashes, I don’t think I’d even care because I’d like to stay in this plane sitting beside this man forever as I cherish this amazing feeling of safety and home. I feel completely at peace. All worries and stress exit my body and my mind. God, what’s going on? The energy between us is electric and magic. We sit in silence enjoying the moment with our hands clasped tightly together.
The pilot flying the plane announces over the intercom. “DFW is closed and we’ve enough fuel to circle the airport for thirty minutes. Then if we still aren’t cleared to land, we’ll be diverted to the closest airport. I’ll keep you informed. Please, keep your seat belts fastened.”
I comment, “I’ve never being diverted on a flight before.”
He answers. “Well, I hope we are diverted because I want to spend more time with you, to get to know you. Only, I sure don’t want to do anything to mess this up.”
I think to myself, mess what up? What in the world is going on here? We continue to hold hands as we chat. It’s as if we’re afraid to let go of our magical connection. “Why are you wearing your airline uniform?”
“Dead-heading it back from LA. Was going to fly back last night, but for some reason decided to stay and leave this morning”, his voice gains excitement, “And I meet you because I did.” More excited, “And to think, I met you because of this simple decision. I didn’t want to bother packing extra clothes so I wore my uniform. I’ve been flying extra trips to make extra money because of the divorce.”
I ask, “When’s your birthday again? You said it was on the day you left?”
“October 19, 1942, Saturday, the day I left Dallas to meet you.” He takes a slip of paper out of his coat pocket, writes his name and birthday on it, then hands it to me. The paper has his flight information on it. Um so he’s a Libra, so he’s always searching for truth, fairness and balance.
He looks into my face, “Sometimes, I feel as if I’m just flying around looking for truth because some sort of answers must be out there somewhere. I think if I keep traveling and looking, eventually I’ll find them. On layovers, I roam around old bookstores. I love to explore and to read. Life can change so quickly.”
“Truth and answers a
re inside yourself.” I touch his chest as I speak. “The answers are in each one of us, not somewhere outside. I’ve spent much time studying spiritual truths and have learned and grown a lot in the past few years. Although, I am really still searching too, trying to continually figure things out and to understand. The same old deal, the more I learn, the more I realize that I don’t know and realize how much more there is to find out. The more I grow, the more I realize I want to grow. That it’s enjoyable, even fun at times and pain is a part of the process. I love to learn and experience the new. One thing, I know for sure is the answers are inside each one of us—not outside us. The outside makes us aware of what’s going on internally. We need only look inside ourselves for answers. I’m a voracious reader also.”
“True and interesting, but sometimes, it’s as if I’m tired of being grown-up. I want to be a kid again only with what I know now.”
“Isn’t that what we all wish, to have the spirit and vigor of youth with the knowledge of age? Seems like most everyone thinks to be grown up—you don’t have fun anymore and you must be serious all the time, well I just don’t believe it. Why does this have to be true? I believe life can be mostly about fun. It’s our attitude, the way each one of us perceives things about our lives, other people and what happens in our lives. That’s really all there is, how we individually perceive things.” Chuckle, “Are you going through some mid-life crisis or something?”
Chuckles, “No, I already did that a few years back, but I feel it’s important to—you know, seize the moment. Take advantage of each moment because once they’re gone. They’ll never come again.”
“Yes, I agree and certainly, I try to live in the present. Years ago, a man said the very same things to me that you’re saying now. He was searching for something outside himself, too. Always searching so hard that he lost what he had.” I think back to Richard telling me it was too soon after his divorce to have met me and he didn’t know why, but he had to keep on searching. Then when he came back to claim me, I was gone. I wonder, will this man be like Richard? “How long have you been flying?”