Recently I was walking through the vineyards in Lower Austria. As I was walking I heard a sound above and when looking up I saw an airplane crossing through the blue sky. I took a picture and walked on. From below, it just looked as if the airplane cuts the sky in two. There is one whole blue sky above. Why does the airplane cut it in half?
We humans seem to want our lives to be whole in so many ways. We like to have it planned out: My life should be like this and not like that. We look at it as one life, as our life, as our possession. It is our life, our career, our path, our way. We don’t want it to be fragmented, we want to own it.
When something appears – seemingly suddenly – we may blame it for destroying our superficial oneness. From our perspective, the airplane cuts our sky in two, and we suffer, get depressed, and are angry.
The airplane can have different forms: Sometimes it may appear as old age, sickness, or death. Sometimes it is judging, checking, and making. We follow this mind, which is always fragmented, and it cuts right through us – we feel cut in half. We may try to get rid of the airplane: we go to many doctors, maybe buy anti-aging creams, do lots of meditation, and so on. This may help a bit, but we notice that eventually, the airplane appears again. What can we do?
Above the airplane, the sky is always whole. Can we stop pushing away any airplane or following it around? Maybe we end up even being thankful for any airplane crossing? – What a cut!