Cleared for Take Off


“Does anyone smell smoke?” Not exactly the words you want to hear at 36,000 feet in the air halfway through a cross-country flight. Shortly after the flight attendant asked us to take our shoes off to feel for heat (read: fire) below us, our plane made an emergency landing midway to its destination. Afraid of flying before, I was now certifiably terrified.

Unable to summon the courage to board another plane, I forced my husband and children into a rental car to drive 12 hours home. He missed important meetings at work, they missed the Field Day activities eagerly anticipated for the past month. I felt like a loser.

I used to compare booking a flight to playing Russian roulette. I would toil over the flight time options when booking, and then all day the day of my flight notice time passing and airplanes safely traveling, and wistfully wish I had picked an earlier flight. Any trip that required a plane was to be avoided or dreaded.

My meltdown in Kansas City was the last straw. Fear was no longer just my imaginary friend, she was given power to dictate my schedule and determine my activities and those of my husband and kids.

I’d always prayed for safety, but it felt like I was asking for some special protection to which everyone should be entitled. And the fear continued.

Then, through conversations with friends, I (quite accidentally) turned to Eastern thought. I may very well be bungling the Buddha, but some ideas rang true for me and my limited understanding of non-attachment was key. I was attached to an outcome, a lifestyle, a story and it wasn’t helpful. Clinging to safety just made me to focus more on how unsafe I felt at the moment. Instead, I started to see that everything happened exactly the way it should, and I started to trust life as a friendly force.

It’s not a Mary Poppins-everything-always-turns-out-the-way-I-want it-to trust, but more of a faith that everything is for my ultimate good. Even mistakes, even pain, though I still wish I could skip past the really bad times. If I can get to a place where I assume that the outcome that happens is as it should be, I no longer need to be invested in manipulating the outcome. A rather large portion of my suffering has been caused by the avoidance of suffering. And the little bit that remains I couldn’t avoid anyway (heaven knows I tried).

Combined with this idea was an element of perspective. I would watch planes in the air and see their grace and beauty, particularly on take off and landing. I would remember how bumpy those times felt for me as a passenger, yet from a distance, those bumps didn’t affect the plane, it was built for them. I compared that to a lesson I was taught by a friend, that as much as we resist change, as humans we are built for change. We have the strength to go through it, wherever that might take us.

I’m still scared sometimes, but usually not on a plane. I write this post 25,000 feet above ground as I return from a business trip, seeing  the sun setting the sky on fire in the horizon and feeling the tickle in my stomach of riding the jet stream. I no longer have to talk myself through take off and landing, putting on a brave face for my kids all the while adrenaline shooting through my veins with every bump of turbulence or unfamiliar mechanical sound.

I have been able to travel places my grandparents never even dreamed of. And so, I grip the arms of my seat with gratitude and without reservation.

What outcomes are you attached to?