Spiritual Ascents

Spiritual Ascents – By Evelyn H. Gardett

“So be perfect, as your heavenly father is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48)

“I don’t much like these little planes, do you?” They were standing together, looking out at the aircraft. “Mm, not so much,” she concurred. “But at least the boarding time is less. I was on a flight a few months ago with my son, and we were lined up for what seemed like an hour.” The priest let out a scoffing sort of noise. The woman continued. “It’s not that I mind standing in line, father. It’s just my knee, you see.” She pointed down toward her left leg. “Been giving me trouble for years now, and I can’t be up on it too long, or the ache gets worse. My son says before too long I will need a cane, but I keep resisting.”

The attendant announced the boarding number they were waiting for, and they filed into the vessel. They shuffled slowly and silently down the long silver tube. The priest had with him a large, black carry-on that needed to be checked. She thought she saw him starting to negotiate the transfer but let it go.

The woman went to her seat first. It was by the window, as she had requested. She looked out at the wing of the plane and to the runway and the row of trees beyond. A young woman sat next to her and smiled. She pulled out a small book and began to look it over thoughtfully.

After a few minutes, the attendant came by again, and the young woman got her attention with a slightly raised hand. She stopped and leaned over the seat. They communicated in low tones and pointed at her ticket, then at the seat number, then back at her ticket again. So, the woman resumed looking out the window. There was a sign painted laterally along the wing that read, “Do Not Step Out of This Area.” She laughed a bit, wondering to herself why anyone would want to step within that area.

Someone passed by the seat in a flash, and she noticed that the young woman had gone. Turning around, she tried to see where she went, but there was no trace of her at all.

Soon after, some talking and rustling was heard a few rows back, and the priest returned. She smiled up at him. “Is this seat taken?” he began. “Well, no, father, not if it has your name on it.” He checked the ticket, then the seat number overhead. “Seems to be me!” he replied. “Hope you don’t mind!” Not at all, she answered him. So, he put his small bag in the compartment overhead, straightened his long, black cassock, and took a seat at her side.

***

???????They taxied out to the runway and prepared to take off. The priest took a rosary out of his pocket and began to pray it silently. The plane leveled off, and the priest stretched out a bit in his seat. “The old frame doesn’t hold together quite as well as it used to,” he said. She smiled and glanced over in an understanding way. “And you? How is your knee holding up at this altitude?” he inquired of her. “Well thank you for remembering! Yes, it is okay. As long as I’m sitting down its alright. It only hurts if I have to walk back down the aisle.”

???????“That’s true, but you don’t want to be stuck,” he responded. “Your son might be onto something with the cane idea. Not to put my nose in your affairs, mind you,” he continued. “My sister has issues with her hip, and a cane has kept her mobile these past few years.” His seatmate nodded slightly. “And is she doing better, your sister?”

????????“Well, she’s mobile. That’s something,” he responded. He seemed to become despondent, but then he rearranged his posture and the sense of concern fell off his shoulders slightly.

???????The woman sighed. “Well, of course you are correct,” she concurred. “It’s only a matter of time before it’s absolutely necessary. It would be better to just go ahead and get one now, before it gets out of control.” The priest nodded, and she went on. “You know, father, it wouldn’t be so hard to hear if he were around to help me a bit more,” she continued. “Sometimes it seems like he wants me to get a cane just so he doesn’t have to take care of me!” she finally lamented.

??????The attendants pushed the heavy cart past their seats, reminding passengers to mind their elbows and knees as they went. They parked it at the top of the aisle.

The priest looked up at them for a moment, then turned sideways to view his companion. His gaze was full of tenderness.

The cart pulled up next to them, and the attendant inquired after their drink preference. The father got an orange juice, and she ordered a cup of coffee. “Would you like the whole bottle, or just a glass?” the attendant asked him. The woman looked over at the priest to comprehend his reply. “Pardon?” He considered it momentarily. “Why don’t I just stick to a glass,” he replied, smiling somewhat tensely. The woman wasn’t given an option, and her coffee cup was handed over in due course.

?????They sat in silence while the cart made its way down the aisle. There was a ding in the cabin, and a light went on. The captain’s voice came on the speaker to let them know that the seat belt sign had been turned off, and they were free to move about the cabin. The woman looked around as if to consider the possibilities. Soon the cabin was alive with passengers unbuckling their belts. Some people got up to use the facilities, or just to stretch their legs. “I think I’ll keep mine on,” the priest decided. He adjusted his garments somewhat and pulled down the layers of fabric that lay across his shoulders.

Someone across the aisle pulled the window shade down very quickly. It left them in a shadowy reality. Eventually, the woman spoke again. “Forgive me, father, I don’t want you to think I’m mad at my son. I suppose it’s only natural for a mother to feel slighted every now and again.” He listened carefully and asked her if her son knew how she felt. The woman considered the question for a moment. “I think he does,” was her reply. He continued to wait, so she continued to speak. “I guess it comes from his absence. I wish he would spend more time visiting, that’s the thing. He makes time for his father, seems to me, almost every month. Meanwhile, it was Christmas since I last saw him. Well, I guess that’s not right. He was up for Valentine’s Day.” She thought for a second, then nodded to herself. “But that was when he wanted me to meet his new beau, so we didn’t get to spend much time together.”

He asked whether she had expressed these feelings to her son. Then he put his elbow on the arm rest between them and rested his chin in his hand. “You know, father, I usually don’t, to be honest,” she confessed. “I’m not sure that it ever does much good. But since you mention it, I did say something just yesterday. We were on the phone talking about my trip, and I kind of went off at him about how long it’s been since I saw him. In retrospect, it wasn’t really the way to leave things. I should call him back as soon as we land.”

He sat up and folded his hands. “It might be better to wait a bit,” he responded. “A word spoken in haste can take a lifetime to undo.” She nodded in agreement. “Well, he’s with his new girlfriend now, anyway,” she said. “I don’t really see that conversation going well.” He listened to her and smiled slightly. She sat back and stared ahead of her at the felt divider.

A few minutes went by in silence. Finally, the window across the aisle opened slightly, spreading a stream of light across the aisle, and illuminating them in unpredictable patterns. “I suppose I should mention,” she began again, “the same thing happened last month as well. Maybe not as intensely, though.”

The priest nodded, and the silence continued. Finally, he spoke.

“The emotions,” he said, “have an energy to them.” He paused as if to let the statement settle. “They are not weightless.” She bowed her head slightly and continued to listen.

They went over some bumpy air, and the airplane bounced a few times, then resumed its smooth journey. He glanced down the aisle toward the exit doors, shifted in his chair, and raised his hands in explanation. “Imagine that you are about to jump out of an airplane…” he began. She laughed out loud.

He smiled, shook his head, and rephrased his statement. “No, imagine that you want to jump out of an airplane.” She laughed again, and he smiled, but continued on. “You want to jump, but before you jump, you want to know what’s down there. What kind of terrain will you land in? Will you be able to find your way out once you’re there?”

She looked up and finally responded. “Look before you leap?” He nodded. “Yes, of course. But when emotions are involved, we don’t really leap, do we? We kind of fall. The emotions, their downward force, takes ahold of us and pulls us down toward the ground. And once they do, in a sense, we are their prisoner.” She appeared thoughtful as he continued. “What we can do – where our power lies – is to keep ourselves upright. Resist the weight of the emotion, before it pulls you out the door of the airplane.”

The vessel encountered more turbulent air, and the father held on to the armrest. The sound of the parked cart rattling at the end of the aisle was audible to them both. “I wish I didn’t have such a temper, father,” she said over the clamor. He nodded and looked somewhat sick. She waited for the noise to calm down before continuing. “I do feel that my emotions get the better of me sometimes. You’re right that they pull you down, into a world that you might not want to inhabit. It’s all very true.” She looked across at him, and at the sliver of light coming through the window. His color was returning, and he started to respond, but she went on. “I just wish I could get a handle on them. I sometimes wish I didn’t care so much!”

He took his arm off the rest and placed his hands together in a prayerful motion. He seemed to be considering two sides of an argument. “It’s truly good that you care,” he began. “If you didn’t care, that would be a very sad way to live,” he said. “No, it’s wonderful that you care that your son is not around. We should want to be together all the time! It’s a beautiful and natural motherly tendency.

“You just need to temper it,” he continued. “Anyone can become angry – that’s easy. But finding the right way to express your anger, and to go about it in the right way – that’s the challenge of a lifetime.”

He added one more thought: “I understand… I know it seems like it will feel good, or even be helpful, to say the thing that’s on the tip of your tongue. But it sounds to me like you already know how that turns out. Those things only last in the shadow of regret they cast.”

***

The orange evening light was filling the cabin now, as they began their initial descent. It was slow and steady. The passengers had all returned to their seats and re-buckled their belts. And the seatbelt sign was turned back on. The pilot’s voice filled the cabin once more to let them know that their final destination awaited them soon.

“We’re almost there,” the priest stated.

“One last question, father,” she began. “Where do I go from here? I mean – with my son?”

He looked somewhat surprised by the question, then glanced down at the ticket he was holding in his hand. He sat back again and looked past her out the window. “So much about the life of virtue involves running in circles. Sometimes you think you’ve gotten beyond something, and then you end up right back where you began. But that doesn’t mean you’re not making progress.” He glanced around them as if searching for inspiration. “This flight, for instance. It took off from the ground, went up into the air, and now it will return to the earth.” He sighed audibly. “But does that mean we have not gone anywhere? Well, in a sense, yes, but in another – more important way – we have traversed some space. We have changed location.”

She got quiet. “Yes, so what can I do? You know, to make things better?”

He shifted slightly in the seat. “Yes, of course. Try to reflect on your relationship with your son,” he advised her. “Spend some time meditating on what you want it to look like.”

The flight descended more steadily, and the priest produced a rosary and began to pray. She watched his fingers pass over the black beads with steady consistency. The plane landed just as smoothly, like a cake maker places icing on the top of a cupcake. “Piece of cake,” the priest said, and pressed the rosary in his hand.

The attendant came by to inform him that his bag would be available outside. He thanked her warmly. The attendant asked whether the woman would be needing a wheelchair. She looked over at the priest, and they both laughed.

They filed back up the aisle and crossed over the gap to the hallway. The sun was shining and bouncing off the surface of the airplane. A thin stream of water was running down the side and collecting on the tarmac.

He waved at her and made his way to the right of the gate. She took a moment to collect her things, then followed behind him at a slower pace, watching his black figure disappear into the crowd.

***