How could the worst seat on the plane turn into the best seat on the plane, in a heartbeat?

In late May 2013, I was flying all the way across the US from Denver to Burlington, Vermont.  The flight takes about 3.5 hours; I was pleading for a “good seat” which usually for me means on the aisle and up near the front.  

My seat assignment was 26 C.  ‘Ok,’ I said to myself, ‘not so near the front BUT “C” is usually an aisle seat.’ I entered the plane, noting that it was small and kept walking and walking toward the rear, looking at the seat numbers.

‘OH NO!  26C is the last row of seats in the plane!’  

My mind instantly grabbed the situation and clicked into a story…’the bathrooms are right behind me and people will be lined up right on top of me to use them, there will be no air and the seat will not go back…three hours back here. The plane is so full there is no way I can change seats…NO…I can’t bear it!!’

It was a perfect set up to be perfectly miserable.  It turned out to be one of the easiest happiest flights I have had in a long time.  What happened?

Very soon after I sat down on the gray seat in an even grayer funk, I noticed something quite surprising. My heart was expanding; I actually felt an inner ease and joy. Obviously, I had a choice.  ‘Do I live in the stories my head is creating or do I drop into ambiguity to trust what my heart/body are telling me, i.e. that this could be a very nice experience?’ I chose to trust and just see what might show up.

My two seatmates were quite pleasant. It was actually never stuffy. The seat went back just enough to be comfortable. While I could occasionally hear the toilet flush, I hardly noticed the people who lined up in the aisle just before we landed.

The greatest surprise was a sense of spaciousness, externally and inside me too. It honestly felt like a private space especially constructed for my comfort. How could this be from way back in the rear of the plane?  

I smiled all the way across the US.  

Having noticed the sensations in my heart, and choosing to listen to them, rather than to the very plausible story my head had constructed, clearly allowed the imagined worst to become the real-time best.