|A view of the wing from the back|
of the plane.
In the moment or two it took for me to walk past the first few rows of seats, where I knew I did not want to sit, I felt anxious about the choice looming before me. As I looked around, I felt more than saw where I wanted to sit. It was a window seat on the left side of the plane in front of the exit row, on the front side of the wing. Realizing that this particular seat was close to the engine, which may be loud during the flight, my husband asked me if I wanted to choose another seat. I looked at the other options, felt settled in my choice, and sat down.
At the time I chose my seat, the plane was parked at the gate in Boston under overcast skies of an arriving storm and I had no way of assessing whether my seat was favorable or not. About thirty or forty minutes into the flight as my morning chill from riding public transportation to the airport began to ease, I realized the divine perfection of my choice. I was seated exactly where the sun shone off of the curved, highly reflective forward position of the wing such that it warmed my face and body during the entire flight to Chicago's Midway airport. The seat I chose, with no more than a "feeling" that it was where I needed to be, was the only seat positioned such that the sun's angle in the sky at that particular time of day would warm my chilly body. I knew in that moment that I did not and could not have determined with my mind that that particular seat was perfect for me. In releasing the initial anxiety I felt at making a potential "wrong" seat choice and allowing my body to choose for me, I landed myself exactly where I needed to be: warm and grateful. It was a wonderful flight.