To the Snorer in 11E
I knew the moment he positioned himself in the seat beside me, his large frame taking more space than he was allotted. Ironically I had upgraded our seats to the “XL” option which clearly only meant more leg room, and is it me or are airplane seats getting smaller and smaller each year?
I felt his boney elbow in my side first. So I shimmied over and tried to make myself even smaller, spilling into the aisle.
He was silent at first, head nodded as soon as we took off and sound asleep exactly where he was. It was much later, after another silent battle for space while he negotiated his dinner with a tiny tray and not enough space for his wingspan, that his wife beside him reclined the seat for him and tucked the blue airplane blanket around him…and the snoring began.
I looked over at him and his mouth was agape in a strange Hitchcock kind of way, if he wasn’t snoring I might have thought he was dead.
He was dead, asleep.
I felt so annoyed instantly, my inner peace tested, and I could not escape what was now beginning to be the loudest and most full-of-personality-snoring I have ever heard. A full chorus in one breath. I wondered how his wife on the other side of him managed to stay asleep, what an act of devotion.
And then my own journey began…a private sound-inspired journey of mind, body and spirit.
His snoring took me to a place in my mind where I remembered that just days ago I was beside a heavy breathing 7-year-old whose little “snores” were cute, I’ve even contemplated recording them so that I can have it with me always. And this auntie memory dropped me into my heart instantly.
And lingering in my heart a bit, I remembered this little one’s mother; I was just 12 when she was born, she was one of a twin. My sister Val and I were young mothers, we had one twin in each of our rooms when they were babies; we would wake with them, and feed them, and change them during the night.
I remembered this baby’s breathing beside my bed when I was a girl, and then her snoring as she got older…and what I would give to hear it all again.
As the tears began to silently make their way down my cheeks, I felt a softening in the direction of the stranger beside me. And then I felt the hand of my love reach across the aisle and touch my back, and a deep breath welcomed his touch.
Spirit entered the space, and I felt it.
Instinctively I reached for my phone, and opened the Spotify app and scrolled to one of the many, many sound healing playlists I have.
I settled back into my seat, and positioning myself so that my neighbor could have his space. I put the soft sounds in my ears, covered myself, and lightly closed my eyes.
Into the breath I went…
Into the familiar space of letting go I travelled.
At first, I noticed the snores were not in perfect harmony with the sound in my ears, and a last bit of annoyance found its way to the surface. And then suddenly, just like that the snores were in-sync with the percussion, the Tibetan bowls, the natural sounds of the track…a perfect symphony of sound…
Everything began to fade away.
And just as I was beginning to settle into the gratitude I felt in that moment for the journey my newest teacher’s snores invited me to take, I heard a familiar note enter the staff with the others.
From across the aisle, my love’s familiar little snores added to the cacophony in this shared space of time travelers.
And I felt a new, deeper layer of softening rush in.
To the Snorer in 11E, thank you.