Feeling totally vulnerable inside an airplane with more than 150 fellow passengers, I try to steer my mind away from the fact that this bullet is suspended 35,000 feet above the earth. I pretend I'm not the least bit apprehensive as the airplane springs and leaps while the flight attendant announces the "slight turbulence" we are experiencing.
Sitting at either side, my two sons show me a forced smile while trying to hide their genuine concern over the situation. As I look around I see other passengers quietly searching for reassurance from the attendant’s inexpressive gaze, and secretly waiting for the answer to the question they do not dare utter - "will this plane make it home?"
Half a dozen round-trips a year have helped me accept the fact that when we board an airplane our lives are at the mercy of the pilot, the weather, the aircraft, but most importantly fate. Other than prayer, meditation, sleep, or some type of distraction such as reading or listening to music, there is not much we can do appease our fear of flying - at least not without alcohol or meds.
Yes, I went there - fear of flying - I confess!
My first frightening airplane encounter came just after my 9th birthday when I left my native country accompanied by my family. The trip was slated to take about nine hours with one layover in some minute island in the Atlantic Ocean, I had never heard of. Instead, the infamous "turbulence" delayed the flight by nearly three hours and gave each and every one in that fateful flight the scare of a life time. I don’t think about it often, but when I do, those dreadful feelings of ambivalence completely take over and I relive the moments I chose to forget more than three decades ago.
I was sitting beside my twin sister with my older sister on the aisle seat, when suddenly the airplane took a nose dive that propelled our heads into the backrest, with a hammering force that was almost painful. The pilot managed to level the craft, but only for a few minutes. Within a short time, the plane again dove sharply, but this time the force caused the overhang compartments to swing open, sending all the items crashing onto the passengers.
My two older sisters wailed as my twin and I held each other in complete disbelief, not daring to make a sound in fear of greater destruction. My parents tried to calm and comfort us by minimizing the situation. But the panic we felt and the cries we heard throughout the plane made their efforts null. There was screaming, vomiting, and crying throughout the bullet craft.
We thought it was the end. But it wasn't, it was just "slight turbulence."
At last, we have arrived at our destination. Once again fate is on my side.
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Sitting at either side, my two sons show me a forced smile while trying to hide their genuine concern over the situation. As I look around I see other passengers quietly searching for reassurance from the attendant’s inexpressive gaze, and secretly waiting for the answer to the question they do not dare utter - "will this plane make it home?"
Half a dozen round-trips a year have helped me accept the fact that when we board an airplane our lives are at the mercy of the pilot, the weather, the aircraft, but most importantly fate. Other than prayer, meditation, sleep, or some type of distraction such as reading or listening to music, there is not much we can do appease our fear of flying - at least not without alcohol or meds.
Yes, I went there - fear of flying - I confess!
My first frightening airplane encounter came just after my 9th birthday when I left my native country accompanied by my family. The trip was slated to take about nine hours with one layover in some minute island in the Atlantic Ocean, I had never heard of. Instead, the infamous "turbulence" delayed the flight by nearly three hours and gave each and every one in that fateful flight the scare of a life time. I don’t think about it often, but when I do, those dreadful feelings of ambivalence completely take over and I relive the moments I chose to forget more than three decades ago.
I was sitting beside my twin sister with my older sister on the aisle seat, when suddenly the airplane took a nose dive that propelled our heads into the backrest, with a hammering force that was almost painful. The pilot managed to level the craft, but only for a few minutes. Within a short time, the plane again dove sharply, but this time the force caused the overhang compartments to swing open, sending all the items crashing onto the passengers.
My two older sisters wailed as my twin and I held each other in complete disbelief, not daring to make a sound in fear of greater destruction. My parents tried to calm and comfort us by minimizing the situation. But the panic we felt and the cries we heard throughout the plane made their efforts null. There was screaming, vomiting, and crying throughout the bullet craft.
We thought it was the end. But it wasn't, it was just "slight turbulence."
At last, we have arrived at our destination. Once again fate is on my side.
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