Oh, hi friends!
How often do you let yourself be seen?
It was a good flight, quiet and quick across the Atlantic. You could almost forget that your airplane seat wasn’t your bed, and that you were shuttling five hours into the future and leaving New York behind.
Almost forget. An airplane seat never feels exactly like a bed.
But it was a good flight, and the pilot only occasionally piped up through your headphones, the fancy ones that are maybe, probably, broken in one ear, but which still somehow do the job.
After touching down and yanking the tiny carry-on from the overhead bin, everyone does what they always do. The flight attendants stand by the jet bridge and say thanks for flying with us, and the pilot stands there, too — no longer just a voice through your broken headphones. He’s there to show his face, to let himself be seen, to maybe accept a kind word from a sleepy passenger, and to maybe signal to himself that he did do a good job after all, and soon it will be time for the next one.
We all show up, all the time, for so many things.
But how often do you stand at the gate and let someone see — and appreciate — the work you’ve done?