Flying

There’s something so intoxicating about flying.

There’s an utter terror that I feel whenever we take off where I hold my breath and count to ten until I remember how to breathe.

But after that, there’s this sense of weightlessness and clarity.

Above the world without control, there’s a moment of inner peace (for me), where I hand over the reigns and resign myself to whatever happens.

I fly above the clouds and above the people, above all that lies beneath me. I know at some point I’ll touch down again and be returned to the real world, but for the moment, I exist quite literally above it.

The only problems I have are those with me.

And then there’s that heart stopping moment when we descend from above the beautiful pillowy clouds and the view from above takes your breath away. The world is instantly returned back to you, and there’s a moment where everything else in the world just seems so small, so tiny.

It makes me feel so light and above the world, not in a superior way, but in a literal sense.

And isn’t it a wonder that people even figured out how to do this flying business? A person thought one day, I could do this and they risked their life to try. Courage.

I am always in awe.