Over dinner one night, a student (and now a friend) told the story of an experience he once had on an airplane. The next morning, I woke up with his story on my mind and thought, “Wow! Talk about the power of beliefs.
This tale deserves retelling.” Please note: Any resemblance between the people and events described here and actual people and events is not coincidental. This really happened.
Imagine yourself in my friend’s shoes and fasten your seatbelt. You’re cruising at 30,000 feet on Christmas day, en route from Boston to Denver. You’re sitting on the right side of the plane beside the emergency exit. You’ve agreed to be responsible for opening the door if necessary and have already read the handy little card located in the pocket of the seat in front of you. No problem. Nothing ever happens, and anyway, it’s Christmas!
The flight is uneventful. You look out the window as the plane approaches Denver to land. The Rocky Mountains are as majestic as ever. Rising from the flat surrounding land to touch the sky with their snow-capped peaks and...hmmm...the plane flies right past the airport. Moments later it begins a slow arc and comes back around. Forty-five minutes later, you’re still circling. The pilot has come on to say that they are checking a few things and should be landing shortly.
A feeling of dis-ease fills the cabin. The seat to your left is vacant, but the man on the aisle begins asking you,
“What do you see? What do you see?” All you see is clear space. No flames, no smoke, no gremlins on the wing. There is nothing to report. Yet the woman across the aisle and other passengers are becoming increasingly upset.
The pilot comes back on only to say that they are still trying to work out a few things. You hear mechanical noises coming from the underside of the plane. It is not the sounds so much as the ominous vibrations making their way up through the fuselage that set your teeth on edge. The Rockies come into view yet again as the circling continues. The flight attendants, gathered in the front of the plane, begin to walk around the cabin, and they look scared. Some of them have been crying.
“What do you see? What do you see?” asks the man on the aisle.
The attendants are reading from little black books, and there is no further information from the flight deck.
You decide to reread the instruction card from the pocket in front of you, but your hands are shaking so much that it is impossible, and now the flight attendants are reading from little red books!
“What do you see? What do you see?” implores the man.
You stop a flight attendant and say, “Please, tell us what is happening.” She reveals, “The instruments are reading that the landing gear will not lock in the open position, but the pilot believes that they are locked. He has been dumping fuel and is now going to land.”
The man on the aisle volunteers, “I guess I had a good life.”
OK, got it. People are preparing to die.
The plane is on what is ironically termed “final approach” to the Denver airport. The runway is lined with fire engines, ambulances and various other emergency vehicles, all with lights flashing a silent vigil. If the landing gear works, it will be a routine landing. If the gear doesn’t work the airplane will crash.
The tension increases with every inch of altitude given away in an attempt to land. Looking out your window it seems as if miles of earth and trees have rushed past during the few moments of approach. Finally the rear wheels touch the ground with a familiar screech, and in those all important seconds that follow they seem to hold. The pilot keeps the front of the plane off the ground, and you coast full speed down the runway, nose in the air. Usually a plane has stopped by now but this one is still moving! There can’t possibly be enough runway, can there? Gently, gently, the pilot eases the nose of the plane toward the ground. The landing gear holds, engines whine, brakes strain, and the plane softly bounces passengers and crew as it rolls to a stop.
What an experience!
Even though the landing gear was in perfect working order, there was a life-threatening problem according to the instrument panel. While we don’t know exactly how the pilots felt, most of the attendants and passengers had adopted the point of view, “There is a life-threatening problem.” The man on the aisle had passed his life in review and seemed resigned to the fact that he was going to die.
This story gives a clear picture of how beliefs can shape experiences. The instrument panel clearly, plainly indicated that the landing gear was not locked in the down position. However, the pilots believed that the gear was working properly, and the plane landed without mishap. If the passengers and attendants had not known (believed) that there was a problem, they would have experienced a calm flight and a routine landing with just an ordinary flight delay.
Fortunately we have the luxury of exploring our beliefs from the relative safety of the ground, and we can use stories such as this one to contemplate the power of beliefs. We can easily see how beliefs shaped the experiences of the people in that airplane and perhaps gain a new appreciation of the role beliefs play in our own lives.
Now imagine that there was a passenger in the back of the plane that slept through the entire flight. Would he have a story to tell?
Rick Traub, Maine
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