Yesterday we were at Lake Banook in the city of Dartmouth (which is across the harbour
from Halifax) at a public beach. We met Mim, my sister and her dog, Maggie.
We had a great time for over an hour. At one point I could hear a plane overhead
and looked up.It appeared to be circling around the city to approach the airport for a landing.
It looked magnificent up there flying with the clouds and blue sky.
It got me thinking about my fear of flying which I've had most of my life.
I have and will fly again but you wouldn't believe what I put myself through
before I even get on the plane!
Where did this fear come from? Was it a learned behavior, as my mother would never fly
and never did. Or is it a 'control thing', which is very possible as I like to have control.
Just a passing thought or two as I glance up into the bright blue sky yesterday afternoon.