There’s something about that roar of the jet engine, knocking of the wheels going up and the rush as we aim for heights beyond the clouds. It relaxes me and allows me to release any angst I’ve been holding onto. I don’t know what it is, but when that initial rush the plane makes as it strives to lift the “beast” off the ground and fly triggers an exhale in me. It’s such an rewarding exhale as it’s one that feels like I’ve been holding my breath for longer than I should.
Travel for me is a need not a want. I spent my youth day dreaming of the places I’d go when I’d get older. Then I spent a decent amount of my 20s doing so–there’s always more I’d like to do but there’s still time. I’ve always appreciated flying but there’s a new respect and healing space I’ve found with it. Being up there allows for a sense of calm that only my Mom could bring me. Being up there in the clouds feels like our veil that separates us is a bit thinner and we’re that much physically closer. Like I get a big hug when we reach our altitude.
As I hear the landing gears emerge I feel “my high” start to wear off. But my body is still relaxed as it was from that initial exhale. I walk off the plane and leave whatever it was behind. I’m present. I’m mindful. I’m aware.