This past week, I flew for the first time since mask restrictions were lifted. I’d pretty much done away with a mask for the past month or so and was looking forward to moving fast through the airport without something restricting my breathing.
It felt good. I arrived at BNA for a 10:30 AM flight to Jacksonville. TSA was easy. I found some coffee and an empty row of seats near the 400 Degrees restaurant. It was relaxing, just some people-watching and listening to the chill tunes coming from the restaurant.
But something seemed off. I felt cold, my face in particular. I had trouble making eye-contact. It almost seemed like people were watching me. Did I look strange? Out of place?
Then I realized what it was. I hadn’t sat in an airport without a mask for over two years. I was uncomfortable. I brought a mask with me. I reached into my bag and found it. I just held it though, wondering if I should put it on. I didn’t want to look like I was afraid, but I suddenly wanted that mask more than anything.
I put it on. Then pulled out my Bose noise-cancelling headphones. Suddenly, I felt safe. Then I felt my eyes focus. Almost as if I had the red eyes of the Terminator. I was making eye-contact. And the song that came over my headphones? The first one in our series entitled “Behind the Music.” It was I am a Rock, by Simon & Garfunkel. You can listen to it HERE.
In this song, the writer boasts of the fact that he all alone, but he’s happy in his alone-ness.
There are some meaningful and telling lines:
I’ve built walls
A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship, friendship causes pain
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain
If I never loved, I never would have cried
Hiding in my room safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me
I am a rock I am an island
And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries
It’s the perfect song when you’ve had a bad day and want to be alone. But sadly, for some, it can be a personal philosophy. And it you embrace it; you’ll miss the benefit of connecting with others.
I felt comfortable “safe inside my womb” with my mask and headphones. I didn’t have to smile. I didn’t half to talk to my seatmates. I didn’t hear the baby screaming five rows back from us.
I was a rock. I was an island.
And who knows what business I missed out on by not talking to strangers. What connections I could have made. Friendships unrealized.
Can you relate to this story? The song? If so, maybe this is the week to open up a bit. For now, I’ll keep the mask at the airport and on the plane. But I will make it a point to engage other humans. We are social animals. It’s not normal to isolate. Sometimes it just feels really good.
What do you think?