Time to spread my wings and fly
AS my dear old grandad used to say, if people were meant to fly, God would have given them wings.
Maybe so, but the reality is, if you’re not prepared to jump on a plane, then you’re not going to see much of the world, are you?
Ever since a fire broke out on the wing of an Ansett aircraft while flying home from Sydney on army leave in 1968, I’ve been terrified of flying.
I still remember the captain telling passengers there was nothing to worry about.
But seriously, did any of us believe it? Not on your sweet nelly.
By whatever means, the flames were quickly extinguished and the aircraft circled out over the waters of Bass Strait to dump a load of fuel, (a safety precaution, we were told) before we eventually landed safely at Melbourne Airport.
Then there was the flight home from Kuala Lumpur in 2004 when for hours we bumped and rolled our way around night skies during a fierce electrical storm.
Eventually, due to the number of ill passengers onboard, the captain decided to take the aircraft higher and fly above the storm.
It was something the stench emanating from my surrounds indicated he should have done much sooner.
We were later told he had been trying to make up lost time by flying lower.
All I knew was that it took a week to get the circulation running back through my white knuckled fingers.
Afterwards I became a tad delusional, going so far as to raise my bum off the seat during takeoff in the hope that it might somehow help to get us off the ground.
The compulsion to hail the drinks trolley whenever we hit a bump has never left me.
Nor has my reluctance to go to the loo mid-flight in case we happen to hit an air pocket and they have to scrape me off the dunny roof.
Yet for some strange reason, lately my fear of flying seems to have left me, overtaken by an even greater fear of going nowhere and doing nothing.
Growing older has come with a desire to face up to my fears, to take on challenges and do all the things I’ve never had the opportunity to do before.
Sure the kitchen needs a reno, there are parts of the house that would benefit from a lick of paint and there’s that recurring plumbing issue you’ve already spent a fortune trying to fix.
But then I realised that the kitchen still works, the painting will wait and, quite frankly, bugger the plumbing!
Somewhere along the way the stuff I once feared has become less fearsome and it is a great feeling.
With all that in mind I have booked a trip overseas next year to Italy and the UK.
For the first time in my life, I will do it on my own because it is something I need to do, for no other reason than to prove to myself that I can do it. And no amount of talk about an epidemic of pickpockets, Italian gigolos (I wish), the weather or anything else is going to put me off.
Sure it’s a bit daunting, but at the same time incredibly exciting.
As we get older we all need to step out of our comfort zones and just go for it. And now is the time for me. My children have grown up and have families of their own so there is no longer the need for me to be there all of the time.
And I’d much rather go having the time of my life than sitting in the kitchen deciding the colour of my new bench tops or what colour I’m going to paint the bathroom.
Growing older doesn’t mean we should give up on life and as long as we have our health we should all make the most of it, living our lives to the fullest.
It does however take a little bit of courage to face up to the fears, grab the bull by the horns and turn dreams into reality.
I daresay there will be plenty of challenges ahead in this venture, but I plan to grab each one with both hands and make the most of whatever comes my way.
Meantime, I am now the proud owner of a “card scam, thief proof, lock-up” daypack and the suitcase given two years ago as a birthday present is finally getting to take its first flight.
And oh yes, my new best friend is a book titled, Italian for Dummies. Ciao!