I have always loved to fly — not the parts about getting to the airport, standing in lines, going through security — not the inconvenient parts. I love the part of flying that occurs once the plane’s doors have shut, we accelerate down the runway and whoosh, we’re lifting away from the earth. Being freed from the ground somehow frees me to relax. I look out the window and watch the world and all of its worries slip away. I put on my Bose noise-reduction headphones (which by the way are worth every penny if you fly a lot) and the noise of the plane recedes into the background.
It is ironic that I love to fly because I often experience travel anxiety. Years ago, it was so bad that I was miserable for days before any trip — and I was traveling frequently for work. The day of travel would bring on a full blown panic attack. I had to talk myself through every step:
“You just have to pack your bag.”
“You just have to get to the airport.”
“OK, now you can just go to the terminal.”
“You just need to check in.”
The strange thing was that as soon as I got on the plane, I relaxed. The plane would barrel down the runway, many of my fellow travelers would grab their armrests and I would sigh in relief. Totally bizarre, but there you have it.
I never knew why the anxiety started and I also don’t know why it has diminished so much. It is still there occasionally waking me up in the wee hours on travel day, but I don’t have to force myself through every step as I did years ago — there may be some anxiety but that’s not the same as panic. Once I get moving, I feel fine.
Yesterday was the first travel day in a while. It was an easy one, there was no sign of anxiety. All the challenging parts of travel went as smoothly as they can. I had my upgrade, my comfy seat, my headphones… and the sun came up behind us as we started heading west. As I looked out over the sea of clouds I felt time and worries slip away.
A different perspective - the sun rising from above the clouds
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