Fear of Flying

Planes take off every day from different airports around the country; countless passengers board their planes, knowing exactly where they are going, and then find their seats and get ready for takeoff. They buckle their seat belts, listen to the safety lecture, and soon they are heading down the runway. The engine revs, the plane gains speed as it lifts off the ground, the wheels go up, and suddenly, the plane is in the air; it's off the ground and on its way to its destination. While the flight may be a little rough as it breaks through the clouds or passes over a storm, it usually evens out and soon enough, it lands.

I've flown quite a bit in my life thus far, and I'm used to the process. I've packed my bags, left home, and travelled miles, but each time, I am tense during takeoff and relieved when the plane lands, excited to take on whatever adventure lies before me. But lately, I've grown more timid of flying. I know people fly every day. I know people reach their destinations. I know that people will continue to travel no matter how bumpy their flights may be. I know many people are scared of flying but do it anyway. Right now, however, I'm not sure how I feel about flying — especially now that I'm unsure of my destination.

Every time I've travelled before, I've known exactly where I'm going and when I'm expected to arrive. I may have been slightly indecisive in deciding my ultimate destination, but I had select options and I generally had an idea of what I wanted to experience and do when I got there. But it's different now. I can make all the plans I want, yet nothing is guaranteed. I can know exactly what I want, but that doesn't mean that's what I will get. I may know exactly where I want to go, but it may take a month, a year, or many years to get there.

This doesn't sound like air travel, does it? That's because I was never talking about flying on airplanes to begin with.

I am over a week away from graduating college, and I can't say I'm handling it well. Between the sadness I feel over having to leave a place I have (surprisingly) come to think of as home and the anxiety I feel over not know what my next destination is, I am a bundle of mixed emotions. Yes, in some respects, I am excited about the prospects of a new beginning, but in many ways, this new beginning is what gives me the most pause.

Every time I moved from one life moment to the next, the next steps were always clear: from elementary school and middle school came high school, and then after high school came college. But what's after college? A job, hopefully, but what job? Will it be something I've always wanted — my dream job? Will it be just "a job" to earn some money? Will it be a job that's just OK but something that will give me the experience I need to reach my ultimate goal?

And what about my friends? Some already have jobs, but those jobs require them to move away. Will I ever see them again? Will we keep in touch like we said we would? What about my non-work life? In college, my non-work time was spent with activities and clubs that were all in the little microcosm of my university where I met like-minded people; where will I find those people now that I won't be there? Where and how will I find "my people"? How will I find companionship? Will I find someone —anyone — who understand me, or will I just be floating out in the world alone?

In each phase of my life, the years ahead of me seemed manageable because I knew generally what was coming. I knew that I would face four years of high school and four years of college. Now, I face the rest of my life, and right now, it looks pretty nebulous. It's amorphous; it has no shape, no structure, no definites. In many ways, I've taken those things for granted, even thinking of them negatively as I craved the opportunity to just do as I pleased. But now I can do as I please and all I want is structure, definites, sure things. I want to know all of my destinations in my life, and all of the passengers that will fly with me on this journey, but I don't. I can't know those things until I actually graduate and get on the plane and begin my travels.

I know people graduate from college each year. Some know exactly where they are going while others only have a dream, a hope. Yet, all graduates get ready for takeoff — there's no safety lecture on this trip — and hope for the smoothest flight possible. Some seem to never hit turbulence while others undoubtedly do. But somehow, everyone lands on their feet in some way, maybe not at the destination they hoped or in the way they planned, but they still find a comfortable place to land.

I don't know what's coming for me or when. I don't know where I'm going or how I'll get there. All I know is that I am scheduled to leave 'home' in over a week, and I'm scared. I'm scared that instead of taking off, I'll be stalled on the ground. That instead of reaching my desired destination(s), I'll aimlessly wander. That instead of flying, I'll fall. But then again, what if I fly?

“There is freedom waiting for you,

On the breezes of the sky,

And you ask 'What if I fall?'
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?” 

― Erin Hanson