I’ve fully accepted the fact that one day I will die. That’s non-negotiable. What I find myself trying to negotiate with God is the method of my demise. And falling from the sky in an airplane is at the top of my, “Please, not that way!” list.
When I was a child, I loved flying. I especially enjoyed the takeoffs and landings. They were the most exciting part of the flight for me because I liked the feel of the powerful engines and the speed. Like most young people, it hadn’t occurred to me that there was any danger involved. That changed.
Neuroscientists talk about how the developing brain matures around age 25 and with it humans become more cautious in that they begin to process danger in a more personalized way. We go from “That can’t happen to me”, to “That could very well happen to me if I’m not careful.” After witnessing a few catastrophic plane crashes as an adult on television, I became fearful of flying. I still got on airplanes, but not without this awful pit in my stomach for days prior to my impending flights. And then praying, with great anxiety, before and during takeoff that God would keep us all safe.
I’m not afraid of death and dying. But falling out of the sky, drowning, car accident, and being eaten alive by an animal are my least preferred exit strategies. To date, I have been on five planes that have had major challenges. There were landing gear problems on our plane when I was a child. My plane caught fire just prior to my departure from JFK on my way to Europe in 1976 and everyone safely evacuated the plane. In 2000, my flight to San Francisco experienced the worst turbulence I even knew was possible. In 2008, my plane hit a weird pocket of air in Minnesota close to landing and turned on its side, causing the pilot to abort the landing at the last second before hitting the ground, and finally, in 2010 an outer door of our plane fell off over the Atlantic Ocean returning to the U.S. from Spain. We made an emergency landing on a small island in Portugal and waited for a rescue plane.
The last three incidents, both post 25 years old, in conjunction with 9/11 fomented a fear of flying that was never severe enough to prevent me from getting on a plane, but sucked all the joy out of the experience. For seventeen years, and about 5-8 flights per year, I felt nothing but dread and anxiety until the wheels of my return flight touched down in Los Angeles or Burbank.  Thankfully, that all began to change last year when I was getting onto a flight to San Francisco. For the second time in my life, a heard this incredibly convincing still small voice speak within me.
It was the same kind of voice I heard when I found my mother’s will in the most improbably place. So, I believed it. The voice said, “You are not going to die in a plane incident.” My anxiety lessened on that trip and subsequent trips. Over the last year, every time I got on a plane, I reminded myself of those words and my anxiety lessened by about 3/4, mainly because there was no promise of not experiencing further incidents. So, I still felt a dread of flying, but I was more peaceful.
It wasn’t until my return flight from Philadelphia last weekend that for the first time in 18 years that I flew anxiety free. Adding to that promise that I wasn’t going to die in a plane incident, I allowed myself a moment of rational thought. I considered five huge facts: 1) There were literally thousands of flights all over the world occurring all day, every day and it was rare to hear about an incident. 2) Far more people die in car accidents and sadly, school shootings every year than in plane crashes in this country. In fact, only one American had died in a commercial plane incident in the past 9 years-that poor woman a few weeks ago who was almost sucked out of the plane. 3) The pilots and flight attendants fly almost daily and they are clearly at ease as far as I can tell. 4) If there is an incident, I will deal with it at the time along with my companions on the flight and I will trust in God’s grace and mercy to help me handle my responsibilities at that time with courage. And 5) Many people fly because they find it fun. I asked myself if I could go back to the days when I enjoyed those takeoffs and landings?
And for the first time in years, I did.
I promise myself a Peet’s Coffee at BUR. Packing is my problem. I give myself permission to just enjoy the experience & I do. You have had quite a life! Being able to overcome unique & terrifying experiences ~ love that confident & familiar little voice!