Fear Therapy: I hate to fly ✈️
I fuckin hate to fly.
Even if I am calm, I still enjoy travels and the whole process of moving from A to B — I hate to be in an airplane.
Each time it turns and I see its wings facing land or deep blue or dark sky, each time it shakes or engines start to make a different sound — I am scared.
And then — I start to think. I realize that I might die the next moment.
Right after — this “aha” moment happens. I think about myself, my life, relationships, goals, perspectives, old memories, future plans, the significance of simple things, and the devastatingly and screamingly uselessness of others.
When a plane lands, there is a slightly different person comes out of it. Not a better one, nor a worse one. Just a different one. With adjusted goals, with, maybe more focus on things that really matter.
Is there any moral or lesson learned from this? I don’t know.
This is just how I take flights. This is how they slightly “shape” me each time.
And are you scray to fly?
