Staying Grounded (Literally)

Back in the mid-1970s (yes, I know I'm dating myself) I took a private pilot ground school class at Aims Community College in Greeley, CO. Shortly thereafter, I started flight training at the local airport. It was a lot of fun, but I only lasted about 7 hours flight time due primarily to serious budget constraints (I was in high school at the time) and a very annoying propensity I have for succumbing to motion sickness. Once things got serious I started making myself sick every time I went up in my little 1966 Cessna 150 (#N3009X, photo below*). Tight turns, stalls and the stress of an instructor yelling at me the whole time did the trick.

  I remember one bit of advice from one of my long-suffering trainers as I grabbed for an empty plastic map case in lieu of an airsick bag. He said, "Y'know, Mark, if you'd learn to 'ride with the plane' you might have an easier time of it." "Ride with the plane?" Wasn't I already "riding with the plane?" Then he explained that when making tight turns, for instance, many student pilots tend to try to keep their bodies upright (vis-a-vis the earth) and it sends mixed signals to the brain. Instead, he advised sitting comfortably in the seat and letting my shoulders and head turn with the plane. That way the body feels a tilted position while your eyes are telling your brain the same thing.

Many years later, after taking my first flight with my pilot son, Nathan, we were on a final leg of the landing sequence when an emergency call came in on the radio. I don't recall the exact nature of the problem but it was something like a plane breaking down on the runway having a hard time clearing the way for us to land. Nathan immediately pulled out of his line of flight and into the pattern, cranking his head around to make sure there were no other planes in the vicinity. The move necessitated a series of quick turns, climbs and drops to get back into position safely. I grabbed the sides of my seat and remembered the voice of my instructor to "ride with the plane." Sure enough, while Nathan deftly executed what seemed like dogfighting maneuvers in the air, I rode them out comfortably. And could even laugh about it afterward.

Now I'm still no more comfortable in the seat of a plane than I was as a teenager, but I have thought about that phrase, "ride with the plane," many times since. Do you ever have days when everything seems to be an annoyance or an obstacle to something you really want to do? Seems like an everyday thing to me. And through the years I found that I was getting very frustrated with the mundane I had to endure to get to something I wanted--errands, kids' homework, commuting, chores, paperwork, etc. I was always trying to keep my head up and looking forward to some distant reward or respite while my life dipped and twirled below me. The result was the same as in the plane: I got sick (so-to-speak). And everything got on my nerves.

Ride with the plane.

I can't say here that I've become any better at riding with life, but I try. And when I do, I've noticed it really is much better. I take the time to relax and enjoy the sights out the window when I have to be on the road--even in traffic. After all, you can't hurry that along. I try to look forward to the little things like bedtime stories, hugs, time spent with children and grandchildren. I engage in conversation while doing chores, where possible, and make the work itself--and the pride that comes from doing it well--part of the reward. I take-in relaxing moments when forced to sit quietly (like in a waiting room) and use the time to think and meditate. I cherish the quiet moments, like those at church.

And what comes of all this riding? The time I have to spend doing things I may not think I enjoy becomes a worthwhile part of the fabric of the day's experiences. And there's no 'airsickness.' 

*Airplane photo by the plane's current owner (yes it's still flying) posted publicly on his Facebook page.  It made my day to see those photos, by the way.