I should really hate flying.
Heights have always terrified me; I strongly dislike strangers
invading my personal space; and enclosed places have never
been my thing (a friend once woke up during a camping trip
to the sound of me punching the side of my tent, shouting,
“LEMME OUT! LEMME OUT!”).
But every time I travel, I find myself looking forward to the plane
trip as much as the actual holiday. I seem to love most things
about jetting around in an airborne metal tube that others hate:
the squashed seats (cosy!); the pre-packaged food (tiny cheese
and biscuits, yay!); the lengthy wait times (an opportunity to pop
on a podcast and engage in some weird public hamstring
stretches that nobody will judge me for!).
People are prone to earnestly touching travellers’ shoulders
and sympathetically asking, “How was the flight?” But even if the
trip had some turbulence or my meal consisted of mystery slime
sprinkled with unidentified green bits, my answer will almost
always be, “Great!”. At times, when I’ve felt anxious in the lead-up
to a trip, just knowing I was about to sit on a plane for a solid
24 hours has calmed me right down.
So, why does cramming myself into an economy-grade bus in the
sky bring me so much joy? Truthfully, it’s because it’s the only
place I truly allow myself to switch off.Up in the air, there’s zero responsibility. Zero commitments.
Zero pressure. (I’m speaking, of course, for passengers only
here – I really hope the pilot feels at least a moderate amount
of responsibility.) For those of us who aren’t in charge of steering
an aircraft across the globe, what is our job? Literally, to sit.
Just sit! And be. I can certainly handle that level of obligation.
When you have a brain prone to ‘shoulds’ – you should be working;
youshould be at the gym; you should be cleaning – flying is an
instant rebuttal to those thoughts. I can’t do any of that right now,
brain! All I can do is sit in a chair and sip from a ludicrously small
cup of water while trying to un-pretzel my limbs. Perhaps I’ll
watch a movie, or listen to some airline-approved music. Maybe I’ll
just stare at the seat in front of me, unblinking, for seven hours.
You can’t stop me!
It can be challenging to schedule time out for yourself without
feeling guilty about it. I’ll check my phone during meditation,
plan to-do lists at the gym, and don’t even get me started on
baths (I should really spend the time doing a load of laundry
instead of blobbing around in tepid water like a poached egg).
The good news? None of that guilt surfaces when I’m zooming
along in the sky.It’s a safe haven from my own judgmental thoughts, essentially.
Where else can you eat stale bread rolls while watching Mean Girls
for the hundredth time, followed by six straight hours of Candy
Crush? If I did that every weekday, I’d start feeling kind of sad,
but doing it in a big ol’ cylinder in the clouds? No worries!
Some might say I need to harness this self-confidence in my everyday
life. Maybe I should challenge that perfectionist voice in my head
when my two feet are on solid ground, instead of waiting for the
excuse of being wedged inside a high-speed cattle cart to allow
myself some freedom.
But, as with most things, it requires baby steps. So, until then,
bon voyage to stressful thoughts. And can I please have another
tiny packet of cheese and biscuits?up, up and away
FOR DEIRDRE FIDGE, TRUE PEACE COMES
WITH A PACKET OF COMPLIMENTARY
CHEESE AND BIKKIES.
rant