Pete and I presumed that I’d be leaving for Sacramento, California on Thursday, meaning late Thursday night. What he realized as we were out walking the horses was that I’ll be leaving on Wednesday evening, which is Thursday morning, a full day earlier than expected. Fortunately, all I have to do is pack and get my affairs in order. Otherwise, I’d be in a tizzy. A lot of what I needed to do, I got done yesterday.

I had planned on going to yoga class on Thursday—this way I’d be somewhat relaxed before flying. Well, I will instead do yoga at home, this way I’ll remain flexible, mentally and physically.

I do not like flying. I already have a knot in my stomach. I looked on the internet and discovered that I’m flying phobic. I put off two trips to Portland last spring; avoidance is the key symptom of aerophobia. So I had the physician’s assistant at the Chickaloon Heath Center prescribe an anti-anxiety drug. I’m not keen on the idea of taking drugs for anything, but I will in this instance if I have to.

I read that anti-anxiety medication doesn’t make one feel any better about flying the next time around. It would be quite wonderful if there was a quick fix. Drugs are the solution for me because I don’t fly all that often. If I did, I’d have to go and get therapy. Flying is my only one known phobia. I may have others, but if so, I’m not aware of them. For instance, I don’t know if I have a fear of being underwater because I have never been afforded this opportunity.

The good thing about all this is that I my having a phobia makes me more empathetic when thinking about others who have the same. Phobias, while seemingly irrational, seem rational to the one who is suffering from one. There are always (for example) those what ifs. I once read about a woman who lived in New York City and had to commute to work, a drive that necessitated her going across a bridge. She found that after some time, she could not do this. I suspect that she feared the bridge was going to collapse. Yes, this was a very real fear. And the bridge might collapse. You just never know. I guess one takes their life in their hands many, many times in a day.

I have (for now) accepted the fact that this is the way it is now with me and flying. The odds are in my favor that I’ll reach my destination just fine. Rather than continue to go through the list of things that could happen, I’m keeping a primary statistic in mind, which is that the odds of there being an accident are 1 in 11 million. I am more likely to win a major lottery. I am going to use the mantra “1 in 11 million,” tomorrow night, repeatedly. And tomorrow there is going to be some very heavy visualization going on.

Next: 91. 4/8/15: Raudi’s 12th Birthday