In May I had quite an interesting experience flying back to Arizona from Philadelphia.
I had to catch a connecting flight in Los Angeles and after a five-hour flight I was a little bleary-eyed but grateful to be making it home for Mother’s Day.
Upon lining up to board my connecting flight, a young woman was escorted via a wheel chair by three airport attendants.
I noticed how they tenderly moved her and helped her to board the plane.
Upon boarding, the flight attendant was attempting to be nurturing and inquired as to whether the woman had been in an accident.
With a straight face, the young woman unemotionally shared that she had been shot by a previous boyfriend.
Oh boy, this was a new one for me. On top of it, this was this woman’s first airplane flight. I sure wished it was due to better circumstances.
I did everything I could to send her signals of warmth and reassuring thoughts of healing and then I attempted to drift off to sleep.
Instantly, I was awakened by shrieking and crying as the woman who was seated behind me was juggling three children. I felt for her until my judgment kicked in as I watched her shovel M&Ms into her 1-year-old’s and 3-year-old’s mouths.
This was not just a cute travel treat, it was seriously one of those ginormous family-sized bags and her children were bouncing off the windows devouring the candy. Actually, it may have been one of the bulk candy bins disguised as a bag. Maybe two bins.
I pinched myself in the leg to induce temporary pain as I had to force myself not to say anything as the woman was astounded by the kid’s poor behavior all the while practically hooking them up to an IV of sugar.
Just as my temples were exploding with thoughts of parenting skills and blood sugar intervention, the woman’s oldest child, approximately 4 and a half or 5 years old, looked over at his mom and said with 100 percent conviction, “Mom, this is where God lives,” pointing to the clouds.
My heart filled up with love and suddenly thoughts that were filled with gunshot wounds and sugar blues were transformed to thoughts of compassion.
And it is with this thought that I leave you and we aim to embody every day as mentors and health coaches: sometimes in an instant, healing and understanding can occur, and where there was once heaviness and darkness, we can become imbued with warmth and tenderness and light.
May every interaction you have this summer be as precious as the little boy’s cloud-like spiritual expression.
• Dr. Jason Kolber is a licensed doctor of chiropractic and a certified life coach. He can be contacted at (480) 704-2787 or www.livinginline.com.