When Airplanes Become Therapy Cafés
Musing to myself on whether I only attracted clients and friends at cafes, my attention shifted toward some instances I had on sky-bound journeys.
You may have heard therapists talking about being “bugged” by strangers who randomly open up to them. Well, I daringly declare that I rather put out an inviting aura for whoever feels like asking me about my profession.
Why? Because I’m still young—and foolish.
Encounter 1: Judgement at 30,000 Feet
Take, for instance, the fine gentleman who was sharing the row of seats with me. Upon learning about my profession, he literally scoffed.
How rude of a stranger!
He elaborated further by saying, “Means you do nothing!“
Now that shocked me, I have to admit.
However, being a little hardened to people’s opinions about my career path, I kept my professionalism in check and was quick to respond:
“Oh, I hear a judgement in your sentence!”
This was one of those rare moments when presence did not abandon me. I could stand my ground instead of grouching in my window seat, nursing my wounded ego.
He wasn’t prepared to hear that. He paused, then challenged:
“Ok. So tell me about a case you have worked on.“
My, my, the audacity.
Eyebrows arching, a quick laugh escaped my lips. Again holding on to my presence, I responded:
“I don’t think I’m obligated to indulge you in my cases! But I can tell you that it is something I am deeply passionate about. I love learning about approaches to understanding the magnificent human psyche and mental wellbeing.”
The gentleman was definitely thrown off this time.
Some men are simply not prepared to take a polite rebuttal from someone half their size—physically or egoistically (take your pick).
He went completely silent—not offended silent, but pensive. Which meant: I got him to reflect!
Score for psychologists, yay!
Fearing that the passenger on the aisle seat was nursing his wounded ego, I gently shifted the topic:
“Interesting tattoos.“
He looked at his arm and shrugged:
“For my wife. We are separated now. So that’s that.“
Ah. No wonder some block towards therapy and change.
Encounter 2: Newsprint and New Beginnings
Years later, another encounter unfolded.
This time, I was devouring the Sunday newspaper, fascinated by national and global happenings.
Beside me sat a retired school principal; on the aisle seat sat a fine gentleman, a government servant of the kind the nation is proud of.
At first, it was just the two of them merrily yapping away, while I made circles and underlines on my paper with a pencil.
When their topics finally expired—and I, too, took a break from reading—the school principal turned to me and asked:
“Are you preparing for civil services, my dear?“
I laughed amicably and refuted her guess:
“No, no, just perusing. Reading the paper these days is more entertaining than Netflix!“
The gentleman saw his cue and chimed in:
“I agree! Whatever is happening is a win-win for the nation. The giants are going to come back from the US and create Indian companies. India will develop by leaps and bounds!“
The school principal and I exchanged a glance.
I dared to offer:
“That’s an interesting idea. But I’m afraid they may have better opportunities waiting for them in other developed countries, don’t you think?“
The principal nodded in agreement.
And so, the three of us merrily yapped along the rest of our journey—even into the luggage belt!
It was there that the gentleman asked me quietly:
“Do you deal with cases of nicotine addiction?“
I gave him a sympathetic smile and handed him my business card.
I had a hunch that his question was only the tip of the iceberg he was willing to share.
I silently hoped he would someday find the courage to reach out—to me or to any professional—when ready to begin therapy.
I bid him farewell, and marched straight to my waiting cab at Arrivals.
🌿 Closing Thought
Sometimes, the skies open more than routes between places.
They open tiny corridors between hearts—where even a brief conversation can plant the seeds of transformation.
mohanabaidya@huesofbeing.com
