the middle seat

Air travel is exciting, often exhausting and boasts of some of the best people watching around. I have met some of the grouchiest, funniest and most interesting people while sitting in airports or flying high above the ground's safety. Strangers becoming friends is one of life's grandest mysteries and greatest gifts. And while I have experienced such encounters, the shared words of this post carry a different message.

Matt Wertz is on my flight right now!!! I avoided eye contact and didn't sit in the available seat beside him...

The text was sent through shaking fingers to a handful of my dearest friends last week. Their responses were full of exclaimations and encouragements to be bold and questioning my life choices. In some small way I imagine they were sharing in my jitters and hoping that the character, (me), would do something that would awe audiences for years to come. But, let's back up.

My fate had been sealed, I was going to be sitting in a middle seat. Now, perhaps this day was going to be filled with smart choices, but once I recognized the person in the black KC hat the day was as good as gone. The seat next to him was empty and full of a million reasons why I should avoid it, plus I was wearing the wrong shoes. As often happens when I am nervous I became acutely aware of my hands and I did my best to walk as a composed adult down the aisle, resisting the urge to climb over, knock down or tackle the passengers in front of me in order to find safety in some less assuming middle seat. As I passed by him my bag either brushed his shoulder or knocked his head so hard that he got whiplash, I cannot be sure, but an excuse me or I'm sorry was out of the question since I had completely forgotten how to form sounds and make words.

The regret had already set in as I sent the text to the masses.

Had I chosen the seat beside him, there is a high probability that I would have been awkward and nervous and spoken complete gibberish. But, maybe after a couple of deep breaths I would have introduced myself and thanked him for using his gifts and talents to bless others. Maybe I would have mentioned how when I moved to Colorado five years ago I danced around my house to Everything Will Be Alright almost every night, or when I went through a tough situation with a church I Will Not Take My Love Away acted as a consistent reminder to a weary soul. And, maybe I would have mentioned that I first heard him at WorkPlay with some friends and we titled our evening: Three Andreas, Two Birds, One Stone. Maybe we would have chatted and laughed together as old friends for the entire flight, or maybe after the introductions we would have both gone about our airplane business. Maybe..

But I passed up an opportunity to encourage someone that I appreciate; and although we have never met, he has blessed my life through his words, his music, his creativity. I had the opportunity to do this in person, shoulder to shoulder, looking him in his eyes and calling out his gifts.

The could haves are the things that steal mind space. And really, as much as I wish I would have sat in that middle seat, it's so much more than that. I wonder what middle seats I'm avoiding right now. The ones that I know have potential for good, but I'm letting my insecurities call the shots. Where am I saying yes to fear? The middle seat may not always be the most appealing, but it might just have a view that is able to both surprise and excite. It's one thing to risk failure, that's hard and stretching and refining. But, what about risking success? It carries the same weight.

And maybe it starts as small as saying hello and taking that middle seat.