A Window Seat’s Story

On a night flight, a window seat tells a different story. When the “sky theater” has closed its curtain in darkness, the blink of a wingtip becomes the only attraction. Constant, periodic and silent.

The rhythm brings the mind into a contemplating state, where there’s always a strange feeling subsequent to it. Something spiritual, a connection to the divine. Something that I rarely found in a high profile worship houses and congregations.

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