For someone who has travelled so much of this beautiful world we live in, it comes as a shock when I tell people I have a great fear of flying. I have such a fear, that I spend days before I am about to catch an aeroplane crying, my dreams are filled with nightmares and I have to make jokes just to cope with my anxiety.
Whenever there is a plane disaster, the pit of my stomach feels heavier. The sadness I feel for the lives stopped short and those left behind is unbearable. I find myself spending countless hours reading about the whys and most importantly the whos. Someone’s child, someone’s parent, someone’s sibling, someone’s friend – the connections are endless.
Everything happens for a reason, and sometimes that reason is difficult to comprehend. It is during this time that strength is found in such difficult and trying circumstances, when we least want to be reminded of the fact that the world is a truly beautiful place.
I have been so very fortunate in my travels to always arrive at my destinations and then return home safely. In spite of my overwhelming sense of fear and continually playing the “what if…?” game, there is something I realise. I would never have enjoyed the experiences I have had in my life, if I had given into my fear. As my mum always says, “What will be will be and remember I love you.”
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