Fear of flying

Several miles in the air or on the ground, confronting your fears is the best way to overcome them

I hate flying; being in an unfamiliar environment, with strangers, in a relatively unique mode of transport triggers my anxiety.

Every journey that requires plane travel for me starts with a routine on how I plan to overcome my anxiety; my fears means that I rarely make spontaneous trips — every trip is calculated, well-researched and planned. I check online for the accident rates of the airline, the airport of destination, cases of turbulence and any other in-flight incidents. Relegated to the last in my checklist is the overall customer service.

The safety record for me is the most important; I put a premium on my safety. My fear is derived from my unquestionable tendency to overanalyse. If not for my incompetence in the sciences, I would have attempted to create a formula for calculating the accident incidence rate of every plane flight I embark on; weird, I know.

The window seat

I check myself to the window seat; I need to know what is going on in the skies; are there any wayward birds that might crash into my engine? — It is not like I can prevent it in the unlikely event — sitting down, buckled in, and confined to my tiny space, I might as well enjoy the ride; or at least, persevere.

I am a control freak! Control takes precedence in everything I partake in; simply put, a lack of power is a significant deterrent for me. Drawing parallels with my life, I hardly make decisions without conducting a risk vs reward evaluation. Life decisions are subjected to external influences; how you reconcile said influences with your cognitions often determines your success rate in life.

Although you are the pilot of your proverbial plane in life, you don’t control the skies you navigate or the interactions you encounter; peeping outside your window might prepare you for what lies ahead, or coming behind, from the sides, but it doesn’t necessarily avert the impending danger.

Preparation or anticipation might brace you for impact, but it doesn’t prevent danger: accidents occur. And when you are a passenger, it is out of your control.

Hierarchy of fears

The best way to deal with anxiety is to draw up a list of what triggers them; measuring your fears and ascribing a position to them gives you visibility on what they are; it contextualises it: ultimately giving your control.

As fear is a manifestation of the lack of the unknown, making your concerns known reconciles the internal with the external.

The phantom thoughts that dwell in your subconscious, fostered by overthinking, are constructed to be dissected; acknowledging your fears means you can face them and accord the appropriate reverence to them. By doing this, the power to destroy it becomes yours: by giving life to it, you reserve the right to take the breath away from it.

By placing your fears on the table, you can analyse them; in most cases, the ridiculousness of them becomes apparent.

All fears are valid and legitimate in abstract, but in reality, most are meritless

The metrics of sentiments

Sentiments are unmeasurable; there are no metrics for it; they are constructed from of your mind, a function of perceived knowledge. Most fears are a manifestation of your sentiments, influenced by the misinterpretation of external realities.

Fears are fostered when the mind sees isolated incidents and internally deduce them as the norm.

Once you create your hierarchy of fears, you can compare them to the reality in which they exist; whatever fear you deal with internally can be measured against the consensus of the accepted reality of them.

My fear of plane crashes is completely meritless when you consider that statistically, plane travel is the safest mode of transport.

Statistically, most of your fears a baseless.

Plane crashes happen, but the chances of getting caught up in one are slim; you have a better chance of winning the lotto; now that is one fear I would love to encounter!

When you are in the passenger seat, the best approach is to collate you fears, re-affirm the meritless nature of them; if it helps, listen to in-flight instructions, familiarise yourself with your surroundings, you will be there for a set time.

In life, you are perpetually confronting fears; once you overcome one, another one develops. The human mind is a powerful thing; it holds the ability to destroy and imagine whatever it wants.

As you step on that flight, remember the purpose of the journey — that romantic baecation, a family wedding, a business trip. Whatever justifiable reason you have to overcome your fear of flying, you usually do. The reason being, when you measure your concern up to the value of the purpose of the destination, your fear never measures up. You find alternatives: it could be a systematic application of the deconstruction of your hierarchy of anxiety, or the more conventional shot of whiskey (my choice).

The truth is, the journey is almost always worth it; fear anchors. For every trip I’ve turned down because of my overwhelming irritation of airports and planes, there are many more I have taken because the trip was unmissable — the allure of the destination evokes my inner resilience — and I inevitably summon the resolve to challenge my fears.

The knowledge of your destination inspires the confrontation of your fears for the impending trip; you plan, you prepare for any incidents — perhaps take out an insurance policy.

Preparation is an antidote for fear; it stunts it. Mental preparation of your fears assuage them; they are confronted before it is embedded.

Preparation hands you the reins; you are no longer on autopilot, where you are subjected to spontaneous movements; you are in the driving seat.

By applying a measured approach to your fears, you will not only enjoy the journey; perhaps, one day, you can also fly.