Life can be perilous, especially when we act with arrogance and ignorance, without thought of precedent or consequence…As we pass along this way, it is incumbent upon us to seek the safe passage…to find the smoothest ride through a turbulent landscape…to ensure the security of those whose safety has been entrusted to us…A steady hand, comprehension of established rules, mastery of the ship, humility, and a willingness to accept the ideas of others who see things that are obscured from our vision can mitigate threats and lead us to an undramatic journey through troubled skies.
Opening our eyes to a new year, the world out of focus and unfamiliar, multicolored fresnels align in familiar patterns and guide our way as we ease into an old routine, familiar, yet new again…Light is up and the dawn of a new day, dark is down and the receding shadow of yesterday…In the gloaming a primal sense of clarity and direction guides us as we make our way out of the desert and into the sky…Always following the light and looking forward to tomorrow.
For my brothers and sisters in the “Over the river and through the woods business,” keep the shiny side up, enjoy the view, and revel in the part we play in bringing people together, even though we are away from our own loved ones…it’s noble work and a sacred duty to ensure the safety of our charges. Safe travels and happy holidays!
A rush, a whistle, a whisper, a roar…the changing character of air surrounds us and invades our perception. Silence comes to me as the absence of motion, the stillness of air…this is when the ringtones start, the brain’s craving for activity. The flat sound of a warm breeze as it laps perspiration from our skin, the roaring sound of speed as it meets with friction on an aluminum skin, the whistle of a cold wind that cuts through our layers of clothing…As we grow accustomed to the noise, we become one with the air. No longer perceiving the difference between noise and feel, we look to the telltales of clouds to understand the changing nature of the air through which we move.
When all the world is ablaze in glorious light, we lose all sense of what is…instead we live for a moment in elemental form, adrift on the breeze as we float through temporal fields of fire…electrifying our senses and elating our spirits…this moment is what matters.
Are you looking up or are you looking down to find your horizon. For some low fliers, this is a question of genetics and heredity. For some higher fliers, heredity has a role, but not the way one might think…dreams in the form of stories and a shared desire for adventure passed between parents and children. A thirst for adventure that transcends the generations…I was born to fly…I dreamed it until I could do it. Sometimes all we need are an example to follow and the encouragement to transform a dream into a possibility.
Watching all manner of birds is fodder for the imagination. While many of them spend their lives looking up toward the horizon, their innate ability, and sometimes incongruous physical forms, help us to recognize the potential in our own awkward forms…apply a wing and a desire and, suddenly, we are flying.
The thrill of riding in the back of a plane is known to every child who ever sat, eyes affixed to the horizon, searching for their home from the sky. Such a little thing…the yearning to know our place on earth from a new perspective, initiates an electric chill of excitement, a fresh discovery…can set the course for a lifetime of aerial pursuit, travel, and discovery. Pick a window seat, raise the shade, and look out the window with the zeal of a child who wants to see their world from above and the skies will lift to brighten your perspective on your ordinary day as your horizons expand and an intangible sense of joy will engage your spirit.