Chapter Thirteen: TRAVEL

Traveling is such a weird phenomenon. It is really an amazing concept, to be in one city one minute, and a few hours later, you pop out of a silver bullet in some other city that could be millions of miles from every comforting concept you know. It’s weird. And almost to the point where your mind is blown by the weirdness. Does anyone else ever consider how odd it is? We are so used to seeing planes flying over our houses, and being able to book a flight to Bora Bora, and being able to get to Bora Bora in less time then a full day. When I stare out at the New York City skyline as I sit in John F. Kennedy Airport, I realize that in just a few short hours, I will be looking at a landscape of almost the complete opposite of New York. No big buildings, color everywhere, deep blue ocean, and trees! Bermuda, is where I am headed, if you were curious. And this transition happens only after you sit in a tube for an hour and a half. It almost could be teleporting. Think of those movies and Sci-Fi television shows about the future, where they step into a tube, the tube closes, and poof, they’re teleported to a new place, or a new time. Isn’t that what flying is like? Maybe some of you say no, but I think it is still hidden in our minds that we believe getting somewhere takes forEVER, just as our ancestors thought. And as someone who despises flying almost more then anything (sitting in tubes whilst up close and personal to everyone else in the tube with you is not my style), sometimes I think that a 25 minute plane ride from Philadelphia to JFK does indeed take forEVER. But then I think back to what we would do without planes. Would I have been able to see all the places I have been too? Would I be as good of a photographer if I never traveled and took pictures of everything and everyone? Would I have lived in Utah, Maine, Alaska? Would I have grown into the person I have become today as fast? No, I don’t think any of these things would have happened. The furthest I would have seen would be New Jersey, Maryland, maybe New York. Let’s face it, planes make life so easy, and as much as I hate to say it since I hate being on them, they spoil us. As many flights as I have been bumped off of, and hassles I have gone through to get on planes, those seem menial compared to what a plane can really do for me. It gets me places, and it enables me to grow. Just the fact that I am scared of planes helps me to grow, because each time I get on a plane, I face a challenge. I face the challenge of facing my negative thoughts for how ever many hours I am on the plane. Things like “plane’s going down!”, to “I need to get off this plane NOW! (as we’re over the ocean)”, to “I can’t do this, I’ll never ever fly again” and oh I could go on and on. Planes become a journey for me. Not because of where I am physically going, but because of where I am going mentally and emotionally and even spiritually. I deal with my thoughts on planes, because what else can you do while sitting there? I deal with my emotions going up (freak out, panic, I need off!) to emotions going down (Ahh, maybe I like planes, it’s so smooth and quiet in here). And I even pray on planes, I used to pray even when I wasn’t spiritual. I would beg God (even when I said I did not believe in a God) to let me be okay, to just let me be alright. To get me there as safe and as quick as possible. So I grow in every way, usually on every flight. And I have decided to view planes not in a scary way, where I can do nothing but take a sleeping pill, hope the plane does not crash, and listen to Norah Jones, praying I will fall asleep and wake up at my destination. I am going to start viewing planes as a real journey. As I have had my fair share of experience now with meditation, planes are the perfect way to be with myself just the way I am: human. Human, because I am scared to go up six miles in the air. Human, because people sitting in tiny metal tubes is not natural for our minds and bodies. Human, because probably over half the people on every plane I am on is as scared, or more scared then I am. I am going to forgive myself for being scared, and let myself be scared if I am scared. I am going to let myself sit with me, the real me, the me who does indeed get scared and is not above negative emotions. I am not going to ignore those scary thoughts, because they’re there, and they won’t go away unless I welcome them into my whole being.

I am living proof that getting over fear is no easy task. I have flown 57 times in my life as of now, today will be my 58th time taking off in an airplane. I have flown for seven hours at a time, all the way down to fifteen minutes. I have flown in ginormous planes, all the way down to propeller planes. I have experienced so much turbulence I thought the wings would snap off, and I have flown across the country where we did not meet even an hint of wind. I have taken off in blizzards, and flown over tornadoes. All of it, and I still shake when I walk on a plane. And through all of it, I still get on a plane. Every time, even when I think I cannot, I get on. And what gets me on a plane? Why do I get on? Maybe because I know it challenges me and I need to face my fear. Maybe because I know there are others scared too. Maybe because I really want to get to my destination. But usually, when I get up to the attendant to scan my boarding pass, I could care less about where I am going. I’m focused on the plane, focused on overcoming the fear, focused on just being okay. Maybe, I know the place I get to when I get off that plane is much better then the place before. And that place is not an actual place, that place is a state of mind. That place is courage, excitement, happiness and a place where I know I have grown. 

Our flight from JFK to Bermuda!