
Flaps, one notch.
Mixture, rich.
Sky, clear.
Throttle, full.
Brakes, released.
The plane clings to the ground for an instant, one of Newton’s pesky laws stunting your movement, but soon, another law of physics trumps inertia and you inch forward, creeping at first, then picking up speed, faster and faster, the landscape a green blur down both sides of your peripheral vision. Feet work the rudder pedals, a slight sway from from left to right then back again.
The stick vibrates in your palm as a white needle springs to life on the airspeed indicator, a silent warning that you need 30 more knots before the plane will even think of lifting off. Meanwhile, you’ve eaten up half the runway, the trees at the opposite end, ones that appeared so gentle and kind and docile before, now angered, their faces gnarled in determination as they yank themselves from the ground, shake the red clay from their twisted roots and begin to charge toward you. You fight the instinct to pull the stick back, knowing if you do, the plane will become a mangled mess because you lacked airspeed, that vital element of lift and flight.
The needle creeps, moving through mud, caught in a slow motion time warp as it arcs from 40 to 45. The magic number is 60. The trees blitz within their own time anomaly, but unlike the sluggish airspeed gauge, someone has pressed fast-forward on a true universal remote and the wooden creatures sprint faster toward you. 50…55… They close in, their crooked limbs stretching your way. 58… Too late to abort, not enough runway left to stop. 59… If only you had 30 more feet of runway…
But wait… the plane rises, the wings on both sides physically curving upward like a drawn bow pointed toward the ground. The trees strain skyward, final attempts to snag you in their tangled branches. You sail over them by scant feet, then glance down, realizing how much they outnumbered you. The front line hid an army of trees behind them, a nation of their wooden brethren. But now the menacing green creatures appear docile again, mere shrubs from your new vantage point.
For almost an hour, you soar over the countryside, scan the sky for oncoming aircraft, monitor the gauges, peek at your winged shadow as it glides across the ground, expanding when it darts up the side of a building and races across the roof before plunging down the other side where it shrinks once more. The setting sun brushes against far clouds on a distant horizon, singeing scalloped edges in golden light before the glowing sphere sinks behind them.
It’s time to land. You point the airplane toward the faint lights of your home field, one of the shortest airstrips in the state, and you scan your gauges, paying special attention to the airspeed indicator once again to ensure you carry enough speed right up to the runway threshold. But not too much, lest you land long and ram the same trees you outwitted during takeoff.
Gentle touchdown in the grass field, an emerald sea sloshing against your wheels as you slow. A burst of power propels you to your tie-down spot where you throttle back, cut your avionics and lean your fuel mixture full back until the engine stutters and the blurred propeller slows until it’s visible once more, then snaps still.
You stretch three braided ropes, heave them taut to anchor your winged mare to earth until you return another day to do it again. Walking away, you wonder if you need tiedowns yourself, because you float across the field instead of walk it, soft grass swaying beneath your feet as a gentle breeze presses against your back. Heading home, your mind is light, your body energized, as you pulse with life.
___________________________________________________________________________________
For a long time I thought I knew the reason I felt so alive, so energized after my initial fight training and beyond, but I was wrong. At first, when walking away from my plane after a flight, I mistook the intense energy that clung to my being as elation. And why not? I had finally pursued my dream, a long suppressed desire to fly.
I’m sure elation was embedded somewhere in the emotions I felt, but over time the true reason dawned. For that hour, from the moment I entered the aircraft until it was tied down, I thought of nothing other than piloting the plane. I didn’t conjure the past, futile attempts to relive and regret. I didn’t march through my monumental to-do list in my head. I forgot about bills. I forgot to fret over the future. In other words, I lived in the moment.
If I accomplished my goal in writing the beginning of this piece, you were living in the moment as well, forgetting the annoyances and distractions of life that vie for your attention. Yes, the piece may have taken your brain elsewhere, the reason so many of us like to read novels, but it’s still a “present” you experience real time, even though you may be in a fictional world.
After this realization, I searched for other activities that anchored me in the present. Good novels jumped near the top of the list. Exercise scored high as well. Just as reading locked me in the present, so did writing, an activity I started to immerse myself in with increased frequency. Nature was a biggie. Some claim a 20 minute walk once a day in nature does more for your well-being than any pharmaceutical wonder drug could ever accomplish. I agree with every fiber of my being. No matter what mood I’m in, a short walk in The Bog Garden, a Greensboro park, will cure what ails me. It’s hard to stay down when you glide under green tree canopies while the sky pushes blue at you between the spaces in the leaves.
Want to know something else that tugs me into the present moment and never fails to spread a smile across my face? The sight of a dog’s head thrust out a car window, its eyebrows arched in sheer enthusiasm, tongue trailing in the wind. I guarantee all dogs live in the present. We could learn a lesson or two from them. Next time you’re driving a car, ease down your window, erasing that curved glass between the you and the world. Feel the cold, or the heat. Shoot your arm out, palm down, and let your “wing” slice the air. Encourage your passenger to do the same, especially if he or she has a perma-scowl etched on the face. Who knows what will happen? Perhaps if you’re driving fast enough, you both may sail over that far horizon into the great wide now.
Great comments everyone and always good to have everyone visit. Open invitation for rides for anyone in or near Greensboro so you can actually experience it. 🙂
Wow. The beginning of this post had me holding my breath and my heart rate went up. VERY nicely written! 🙂
Found you on NetworkedBlogs on Facebook. Nice to "meet" you.
Happy flying!
Dani
facebook.com/daniwebb
i was with you for this flight. thank you for transporting me there.
didn’t know about the bog garden. do now.
dogs have it all going own. of course, don’t let one cat person that we know hear about this post.
Loved taking flight with you…in my opinion. flight is magic inspite of all the physics explanations I’ve heard! Two things that make me live in the moment…traveling in a foreign country when I have to focus completely on what I’m doing and working with stained glass. When I’m engrossed in a glass project, time and anything other than my tools and pieces of lovely glass simply go away
You are right on, Chris!!!!!! I often wondered what made an activity so special and you nailed it……………….being in the moment. No time to think of the past or the future………….. Thank you for your PRESENT about the PRESENT! Keep up your wonderful words of inspiration……….you are daily changing lives!!!! (especiallly here with me in Maine)….
Great piece Chris. The opening got my heart rate up some (like RPM.) You are a strong writer. Emily
Another wonderful post. It’s not easy to remain positively present, but it is imperative. Flying a plane, following the instincts of your pet, hiking, biking, and liking whatever you are doing are all ways to live in the moment. However, I don’t recommend that we try to fly automobiles. Instead, I may want to join you in your cockpit—which is clearly a wonderful place for learning the lessons of life. Thanks for another wonderful message.
My son and I recently enjoyed the privilege of a two hour flight piloted by our esteemed author. Even as passengers in the small, beautiful private aircraft, we enjoyed the same "living in the moment" experience. There was a nice afterglow that lasted several hours beyond the flight itself. By the way, there are not enough "O’s" in the word SMOOTH to describe the takeoffs and landings executed by Mr. Laney….a natural born flyer. Bob R
Growing up I enjoyed practicing basketball for much the same reason….forgot about grades, girls, being cool and other sources of stress. Yeah, I know you’re shocked…being cool didn’t always come naturally. I’m So Much Cooler Online.
All, be sure to perform your driving stunts on a closed course or at least put down any latte, iPhone, iPod, or iAnthing that can’t wait AND in this case, you had better check your rear-view mirror for any officers anxious for revenue or tasing opportunities.
Christopher, is there a Liability Disclaimer anywhere on your site? (-:
Loved the flight! Thank you.
Beautifully written – I was absolutely in the moment while reading it. And, like Positively Present, the dog bit caught my attention. Mainly because yesterday I passed some sort of black miniature poodle mix sitting on their owners lap with their head stuck out the window as they drove down Battleground Avenue and this dog looked DELIRIOUSLY happy. I’ve been replaying the image in my mind ever since. Animals and nature cure all – should be a bumper sticker.
Thanks, PP. I’ll check out your "bella" post.
Glad you liked it, Louise.
Great piece.
WONDERFUL post. Of course I love it because it’s all about living in the now, but one thing that really stuck with me was this: "Want to know something else that tugs me into the present moment and never fails to spread a smile across my face? The sight of a dog’s head thrust out a car window, its eyebrows arched in sheer enthusiasm, tongue trailing in the wind. I guarantee all dogs live in the present." One of the greatest things about having a dog is that they are always in the present moment. They aren’t fretting about the past or worrying about the future. They are living in the moment and, assuming all of their immediate needs are being met, they are generally very happy. For that reason, spending time with my dog Belle (see "it’s a bella life" on my site) is one of my favorite things to do.