As you may have noticed with a drop in posts, I’ve recently struggled with balance! With a few months out in the US seeing friends and family, taking photos as much as I can to improve (the more photo you take, the luckier you get!) writing has taken a back-seat. It’s always there though, lurking in the back of the car, wanting to reach over and grab the wheel again like something escaped from the asylum. It’s a fun place, my mind!
In between all that, I made a break-through for my fear of flying. Admittedly something genuinely useful like solving world hunger, climate change or discovering the hallowed temple of lost Tupperware lids may have been more impactful, but needs must. For many years, with the slightest bit of turbulence my soul withers. Once I even burst into tears with my heart fighting its way out of my chest. That was a tough flight, especially as it was a work-trip and I need to compose myself upon landing. However, this changed in the last few weeks in the most bizarre of circumstances.
In my last post, I wrote about Disneyland. In summation, I would like to say I was brave, courageous and other positive aspects whilst everyone else cowered, but fearless eleven-year-old girls pretty much made sure I couldn’t back out of any ride with my hide intact. I don’t like rollercoasters, all the jostling, jerking and screaming, and that’s just the queue. The actual ride is terrifying! And yet . . . I survived. The experiences were far worse than anything I’d been through whilst flying, with drops of several seconds and fear taking a vice like grip on my bottom. I never knew that much clenching was possible. I could crack walnuts! (what walnuts would be doing there I’m unsure . . . think I’ve strayed from the point). With two small flights of only two hours each coming up, I thought I would try to steer away from the drugs. I wanted to experiment. I like to think it was tantamount to being afraid of snakes and then lying in a coffin full of them, but it was probably closer to eating a pork-pie despite a gluten intolerance. Danger!
Over the coming weeks I took flights from Los Angeles to Denver, onto Milwaukee, onto New York, and then three more back across the country. For the big jaunt from Los Angeles back to Australia I subjected my body to a single dose of drugs as I needed to sleep (not mastered that bit yet) but otherwise was fine, glued to watching films constantly and barely noticing the thrashing about of the aircraft through some turbulent skies. Each time I would reassure my soul, tell myself it was all right. Usually on a flight that distant I’d take three sets of drugs and be barely conscious as I ambled from one plane to the next. Improvement!
So there you go, a lesson for young players. For those afraid of flying, what do you think – a gamble worth trying? Stark raving lunacy? Next up . . . goddamn Tupperware lids!
Writing and writing...