Bird’s Eye View

Airplanes—

What lessons I learn from them.

I am terribly afraid of flying, yet I CRAVE travel

—experiencing new places, connecting with beautiful people, feeling varying climate shifts, savoring flavors, tuning into soundscapes of music and language, absorbing colors and art forms soaked rich in the culture from which they emerged.

When I think of these experiences, the flight seems a small price to pay.

So I face my fear—

palms sweating, muscles clenching, heart racing in tandem with roaring engines as we prepare for take-off—

Every. Single. Flight.

My grandmother was deathly afraid of flying, so she never did. 

I want to do the things she couldn’t find the courage to do—so I press on.

Each flight, as I verge a panic attack, I pray, compulsively. 

God reassures me that one prayer is quite enough, and that it’s better to pray for peace than a safe flight. 

But alas my mind frenzies.

And I suppose during that time God speaks a little more in that Still Small Voice.

Besides the obvious life lesson:
“Put on YOUR oxygen mask before helping others,” 
(which is an entire lesson in and of itself), I get more downloads.

The Voice Inside whispers,

“You are not in control of this plane. But you are in control of your response to it.”

I breathe. I attempt to slow my heart. I put on music to entrain me.

I play a game with myself to see if I can actually ENJOY take off.

Fear continues to well as we reach high speed, up, up.

My ears pop, my hands shake.

I fight visions of a wing malfunction sending us into a panicked nose dive. I pray harder. I focus harder. 

I peer from the window attempting to gain control.

I plead with God as my sympathetic nervous system spirals wildly—

God laughs. 

“You are in control of your thoughts and reactions. Be at peace. Be calm. Be still and know…”

As soon as we’re in flight and have stabilized, I peak out to find the most spectacular view.

The topography takes shape and my eyes see from a bird’s eye, what I could not know from ground view. I see a clearer picture.

I’m grateful—grateful for the stabilization, grateful for the grace to find peace, grateful for the loops and panic, which challenge me to trust.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to explore my fears, in something as safe as an airplane.

I’m on my way to that destination, where I look forward to being grounded again.

And yet, this too is a journey, as the pilot comes on to announce,

“Sit back folks, and enjoy the ride.”