On a recent flight, I was sandwiched between two strangers. As if the middle seat isn’t already bad, being stuck for three plus hours between people you do not know makes it even more crappy. I so badly wanted that window seat, but I was stuck feeling like that small kid who was always told to sit in the middle because you are small and the only person who can fit. As my flight neighbors busily tapped away on their laptops and shuffled through papers, I noticed that they were both actually working. Geesh! I must be a slacker. There was surely something I could tap about also. I could crank out a weekly memo to my staff, research ramping up student academic discourse, find a new place for my mom, read all there is to know about potty training my feisty toddler, the list is actually endless. Like seriously, I have work, work to do. I literally had hours of uninterrupted time that could have been used toward being productive. I couldn’t possibly justify engaging in or with anything else. 

 As mothers, bosses, wives or adults with any ounce of responsibility, we always have something other than ourselves to focus on and take care of. Many of the things we see and hear on a daily basis dictate to us that responsible adults don’t spend time doodling or scratching their tails for any longer than three minutes. Heaven forbid you let that five-minute mark hit and you haven’t come back down to earth to handle your business. There is always a void to fill somewhere for someone. But as I soared through the sky on that plane ride jammed between strangers, I silently whispered, “Why can’t this void be me?” Why can’t I focus on myself without feeling like I am neglecting something or someone?

Pause. Check yourself, girl! Don’t feel guilty for checking out. Leave! Take a moment to mentally fly and, if necessary, a moment to cry. Take a moment to reflect, listen to music, correct wrongs, forgive people and more importantly, forgive yourself. You should never feel guilty for tuning out the world to tune in to yourself. Taking a break may not mean physically leaving, but whatever it means and however it looks for you is up to you. Your time away is just that…your time! 

 Sitting there, squished between two total strangers, I found myself escaping off into me. I turned my music up as high as it could go, and that wasn’t high enough. Every song brought with it a new scenario, a distant memory, a fresh idea, an old emotion. I was bobbing and rocking, moving and swaying. I went from age seven to twenty-five back down to nineteen and up through my thirties. I went everywhere, and I was doing and feeling everything. Every song allowed me to feel something different. I got so busy with me that I barely felt the plane as it began to descend. As we entered the final approach of the landing, all was well. I had gone to La La Land and back. During my leave, I realized that life is good right now, at this moment. And though I spend most of my days handling responsibilities, I know I am never too far from a widow seat, or a middle seat for those of us who should sit in the middle because we are the only ones who can fit.