I know I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I am conquering my fear of flying.

That’s a lie.

I’ve conquered my fear of leaving the window shade up while flying. I’m still absolutely terrified of flying. I just hate the feeling. I hate the rockiness of turbulence and the constant threat of the fall.

A week ago I began a trip to Africa to spend my summer teaching aboard a hospital ship called Mercy Ships. My trip included three different plane rides – the shortest of which was three hours long. The longest was seven.

Ignoring the fact that I was heading to Africa for seven weeks and that this is not something most 20-something teachers do with their precious weeks of summer vacation, I tried my best to get some sleep on the flight over. I made it about 30 minutes before we hit turbulence and my mind started checking the nearest exits in case of emergency. I also started debating how long I could swim.

And so it continued like that, on and off, for the remainder of my trip over the Atlantic. Turbulence. Panic. Imagination overdrive.

It’s just something about the fall.

I hate the threat of it.

When this trip presented itself, I pretty much jumped. I jumped last summer as well. And when accepting my current career path. Even with my fear of heights I cliff jump. I like the exhilarating feel of the jump, just not the lack of control accompanied with the fall.

I made it over the Atlantic with nothing more than a few gut checking dips of the plane, but I still feel a bit like I’m operating in imminent fall mode. Something about this place is unsettling. I guess that’s exactly what I was looking for. Something that wasn’t easy. Something that would challenge my plan – my life. I just thought it would feel a lot more like jumping and lot less like a free fall. I thought I would have some choice in the matter. Right now it feels like I have no choice. My world is being turned around on me and I’m not getting much say in the matter.

I’m not quite sure where this trip is going to take me. Whether I’ll return the same or go home and make alternate life plans. I don’t know whether I need a big push off my big comfortable life to make a change or whether I take another leap of faith all on my own.

But I do know this, with falling or jumping, the general premise is the same: at the end you have to have the faith that something will catch you before you hit the ground.

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