So my flight to Fort Lauderdale was almost rerouted to Palm Springs, as a nasty thunderstorm came in and temporarily shut down the Fort Lauderdale airport. We circled around Orlando, me stewing in my own furstrations. I mean, we had a rented car waiting for us. Were we going to take a taxi to Ft. Lauderdale? It wasn't until I took a step back and realized something did I stop my internal bitching:
I am traveling in a giant metal bird at 38,000 feet going 400+ MPH.
I am doing something my ancestors could never dream of. I am traveling above the clouds, where people thought the heavens were. And, shit, this is like heaven. How can I not look at the sun and the air and the clouds below me -- clouds that are currently delivering snow and rain to the people on the ground -- and not realize that this is a slice of heaven? I can board a plane and go to places on whim when just 100 years ago, you'd have to prepare yourself for an arduous and long journey on the ground.
Boo hoo, your plane is delayed, or your seat is uncomfortable. You are currently in a flying miracle machine. Quit your bitching.
Sometimes we forget just how good we have it. The most average middle class American lives better than the richest of kings from barely a few centuries ago. I can go to the store and buy whatever food I want. I can buy avocados in New England in the middle of winter. I can manipulate the climate of my house -- shit, I can manipulate the climate of my moving miracle automobile thingy. Dammit, we got it good.
So that moment of micro-enlightenment kept my bitching at bay. The storm ended up passing and we ended up landing in Fort Lauderdale, albeit an hour later. We hopped into our climate-controlled rent-a-car and drove to our climate-controlled condo. We ordered a pizza with as much effort as it takes to pick up a phone and fell asleep on a nice big mattress surrounded by all the comforts we take for granted.