Today I am preparing to fly out to Denver. I feel an odd sense of peace and agitation. The house seems so quiet. I can hear the traffic noises in the back ground but inside I can only hear the gentle creaking of the baseboard heat and little clacking noises from one of the cats playing with a bottle cap. My peace, I think, comes from a sense of empowerment. I am doing something. I am doing something in the face of what seems like a situation which often leaves me feeling frustrated, powerless and at the mercy of fate. I feel agitated because there is so much that IS beyond any control. But then, I always feel that way when I have to fly. Flying, for me, is an exercise in facing my fears. When I am in the air, I am usually struck by wonderment. It doesn't seem possible that something so big, heavy and hopefully solid should be able to be aloft. The earth below is beautiful and foreign yet I try not to look at it too much. It's like the power of gravity will become stronger if I am looking at the ground. I know it's crazy. The same thing applies when KL is driving. If I don't look over the side of the mountain, then the car will not plummet down, over the edge of it to a horrific end. Instead, I spend my time on board thinking about anything that does not remind me of the fact that I am in a big, heavy metal object at the mercy of the pilot and the laws of gravity. On the other hand, I am looking forward to landing safely and seeing my daughter. The funny thing is, I don't fear possible death half as much as I fear pain and terror.
So, the sense of peace I feel is uncharacteristic for me. Maybe I'll even look out the window.
