Why we are not as different as we think …

"... no matter how big 
the world may seem
small gestures and
individuals stories 
connect us 
we are not 
as different 
as we think ..."

Do you remember your first flight?  I grew up in the 70’s when almost everyone I knew holidayed in the UK.  If they went to Europe at all, most of them travelled by car and ferry. There was only one girl in my class who had flown in an aeroplane, which we all thought very fancy indeed.

I was 19 before I flew in a plane.  I was so naive, I didn’t even know how to apply for a passport.  A very dear friend, ten years my senior, took me under her wing and helped me with the application.  (I know she subscribes to my blog and she’ll remember this!)  Fast forward to the flight itself: I was on my own and didn’t have a clue what to expect.  I don’t remember looking out of the window much.  I do remember landing in the early hours of the morning, so I probably wouldn’t have seen much at any rate.

As first flights go, it wasn’t a great start but I’ve been making up for it since. I strain to look out of the window whenever I fly; this unique perspective never fails to impress me.  There’s something awe inspiring about viewing land from the air, and it’s even more exciting when it’s land you know.  I still feel a lump in my throat whenever I spot the white cliffs on the south coast, or the mountains of Scotland.

Flying into Kenya recently was exciting, but it was the small internal flights we took that were truly magical.   To see wildlife below us as we flew overhead was breathtaking.  The whole trip was an incredible experience and I’m pretty sure I’ll write more about it in due course.  There was so much that was unique about it: the wildlife; the landscape; the itinerary.

It’s a trip that I’ve been dreaming of for decades.  I read Karen Blixen’s Out of Africa around the time I took that first flight, give or take a couple of years.  Then, of course, there was the superb film starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford, first screened in the UK in 1986.  She inspired me to follow my dreams and dare to write.  I never imagined I would visit first her home in Denmark and subsequently travel to the coffee farm on the outskirts of Nairobi.  To walk amongst her things, to see trees she had planted, and to sit where she had sat, felt truly humbling.  I felt connected to her despite the fact we had never met and she was long gone.

Connection is such a powerful and enabling feeling.  Do you sense that too?  There was so much that felt different in Kenya and, yet, at the same time, a lot that reminded me that we are all connected.  Not only connected as a species but to all living things.  We were able to share jokes with our safari guides, and talk about aspects of life that we share.  They talked about their hopes for their children, which is really the same the world over.  We are all striving, at the end of the day, to put a roof over our heads and food on our table.  It’s not all that different for some of the wildlife we were privileged to see.  It isn’t just the mother of a baby elephant that raises it, but the whole herd.  A pride of lions will allocate roles: lions will stay back to protect the pride, whilst the lionesses go off to hunt.  All of us, in one way or another, are seeking food, shelter and protection.  Most of us will need the companionship of others of our kind and beyond to survive and thrive.

You don’t need to fly to gain perspective, but sometimes it can help.  A conversation with a stranger, a different route to work, a walk through a wood, might trigger new ideas and viewpoints.  What shift can you make to see life through fresh eyes?