Quieting for Connection


An image of a smartphone, showcasing the time and a few icons at the top. One signifies that the phone is in airplane mode.

What do they feel like? he asks and I google:

laylines in Sedona, (Did you mean ley lines?)

ley lines map, where are ley lines in Sedona,

what is a ley line, what do ley lines do,

what do ley lines feel like, are ley lines real.


Vibrations or energy or calm or certainty--

the blogs and Youtube testimonies can’t agree.

Some instruct to sit quietly at a confluence,

called a vortex, to experience an awe-moment.


How do we know when we’ve arrived?

17,306,021 results in 0.102 seconds.


We tease the bloggers. Sit quietly anywhere and

you’re bound to sink into what we call god.


Personally, I prefer airports: that structured waiting

in a row of bolted-down seats under framed sepia photos.


Only when I have time to kill can I still my rushing

to trail behind oblong vowels spoken between families.

Sometimes I stay in-pace behind the ascending children

pretending to be the oldest and know where we’re going.


Walls of reinforce glass viewpoint across the tarmac

and its library of adventure novels and novellas.

Every story follows one of seven archetypes;

Voyage and Return is most popular, followed by Rebirth.

We crave change to the same degree we lust for home.


Some afternoons I put my phone on Airplane Mode

to remember sharing a destination with strangers

if only for the 15 minutes they breathlessly navigated

the tram, the airport blueprint, the imperfect alphabet.

For a moment they couldn’t escape our similarity of place.

Of course, we could find more intersections, given time.


The fact that their mother and I share the same middle name.

That if we rearrange the numbers in their current address

they spell the birth year of my grandfather.

That we both wake staring at an imperfection in the ceiling

buoyant with potential before sinking below fathoms of routine.


What does it feel like to experience unity?

32,490,782 results in 0.116 seconds.


Airplane Mode: On.



An image of Linds Sanders in black and white, a person looking to the side and smiling. An image of a forest is superimposed on her figure.

Linds Sanders (she/her) is a multidisciplinary artist living in her van which she strives to park on level ground. Her writing is published or forthcoming in FOLIO, Fever Dream, Rising Phoenix, and elsewhere. Outside of galleries, her artwork is featured or forthcoming in 3Elements, Bracken, Leavings, Harbor Review and elsewhere. While her whereabouts are ever-changing, her work can be found at LindsSanders.com and IG @resounding_bell.