Essay: Fear of Flying…

Pic by Franzi. See more on Instagram.

This week is a special one: My two pals Isa and André will marry. Life writes the most incredible, wonderful stories!

Both decided for getting married abroad. To be more precise: In Portugal (Algarve), at the Sea. When Isa asked me and Stephan to join them there, I said yes immediately. No matter if I am afraid of flying or not – I will be there, when those two special friends of mine tie the knot.

While I am writing those lines the two of them are already up in the air. Stephan and me will follow them soon and I am starting to get nervous.

My fear of flying started after a – let’s call it not so nice – flight to Cuba when I was still an adolescent. I never loved flying, but I was not really afraid of it. Then I didn’t fly for some years. It just didn’t happen. When I finally sat in a plane, 18 years old, on my way to Turkey to celebrate the end of school with friends (André was one of them) I only realized I was getting a panic attack when the plane started to move. Unfortunately, at this point it was a bit late to exit. My seatmate was an elderly lady who gave her very best to calm me down until we finally arrived. I don’t know how I get back from Turkey but afterwards I avoided flying – I was too afraid of my own fear.

Nevertheless, I still loved to travel: I went to Rome, Paris, London and Vienna by train. Also to Brussels and Prague and Amsterdam.

Then, 7 years after my last flight, my doctoral supervisor decided I had to fly to Nice for a conference. Luckily my friend and colleague Lars accompanied me. It was a remarkable journey: We lost our luggage and missed our connecting flight in Paris. In between all the chaos, Lars calmed me down by talking and holding my sweaty hands. Somehow we made it to Nice and back. It was totally worth all the drama!

Nice was a turning point: Together with Isa, I booked a flight to Barcelona. She was the perfect travel companion and soon realized, that the way to get me on board (and to cry only a little bit) was to talk to me and distract me. After Barcelona, we also flew to London and back. With every flight, I was slowly getting better in confronting my fear.

But then life went busy and time and money were tight. So, my last flight is already four years ago and my fear returned.

Lately, a friend of mine told me the most remarkable thing:

“I love the take-off. At this point you have no more control about what is happening. You just have to go with the flow and feel free.”

This sentence reminds me on the yogi-way of thinking. I am practicing yoga for years now but I am still not able to give up the control. Still it’s a daring thought and I will have it in mind when the plane will finally start to move on its way to Portugal.

Just in case this will not help, I bought an herbal calmative and Stephan resolved to tell me lots of interesting stories to distract me and to hold my sweaty hands.

Now I cannot await the journey to begin – as well as to be with Isa and André on this very special day.

I wish you a wonderful May week! Dare something :)!

Like always: All credits appear after clicking the links. If you are interested in putting ads on My so-called Luck feel free to email me.

Essay: Looking at Night into Foreign Windows!

Pics by Franzi.

I love walking, even when it’s dark outside. It frees my mind, I finally end the day with the recommended 10,000 steps and some fresh air, smelling distinctively like the current season – filled with the thick scent of blooms in spring, sunny and dry in summer, humid and spicy on fall nights, clear and icy in the winter.

Strolling through the night

When it’s dark, only a few people are still outside. Everything is a lot quieter than during the day. Fewer passers-by, less chitchat, fewer cars. Life is going on inside the houses, not on the dark sidewalks outside. Strolling through the night is meditative. A good moment to recapitulate the day’s events or simply to let flow the thoughts.

A glimpse of life

Illuminated windows are like doors to other worlds. They show glimpses of the life  inside all those foreign houses: The family at their dinner table, the book shelves stacked with hundreds of thick volumes, the kitchen counter with a basket of fruits, the flicker of a TV. Passing all those light boxes, watching them for maybe two seconds, moving along, it’s easy to invent a very own story  about the just seen scenario: The family on the table maybe just speaks about an adventure the kid experienced the day, the bowl of fruits was maybe shopped on the farmers market this morning, the men in front of the TV is maybe enjoying his leisure time after a hard day at work.

Every window tells another story

I love those little insights into foreign worlds. It gives my own world another perspective. I am here, walking outside, those people are inside, having a great or maybe bad evening together or alone, living their life until tomorrow. Then everyone will leave his or her home again, a new day starts with all those new stories to experience.

As a kid I was living in Berlin, in a block of apartment houses. My bedroom window had a free view onto the 12-floor building opposite. There were around 100 windows. During a sleepless night I would sit on the window-sill and imagine a story for every illuminated window I saw. Those dream journeys into foreign lives made me calm and sleepy, until I was ready to go to bed again.

Today, coming home from those evening walks, I am also a lot more relaxed then when I left only half an hour ago. Here I am, letting the world outside. Closing the curtains. Switching on the light. There are a lot of stories out there. Now it’s time for my very own.

I wish you a wonderful week! Have one full of little stories :)!

Like always: All credits appear after clicking the links. If you are interested in putting ads on My so-called Luck feel free to email me.

A Few Thoughts About Liberty…

LibertyPic by Franzi.

I don’t know where it comes from… but I grew up strongly believing that I am completely free in all my decisions and that I have the liberty to do whatever I want to do with my life and wherever I wanna do this. I always believed that I have the liberty to decide with whom I wanna spent my precious time and with whom not. I am 31 years old now and learned (or had to learn) that this personal liberty and my way of living is not always easy and in some ways even impossible: I have to earn money to be able to pay my rent, to travel or to go concerts. I have to learn my profession before I can convince people, that I am worth their paying. If I wanna decide where I live, I sometimes have to commute over large distances. If I wanna be free in all my decisions I have to trust only myself and no one else, sometimes not even my best friends.

I still have big dreams … a project in the pipeline, a freelance career in mind. I love my city and the people around me. Nevertheless, everything could be a lot easier if I would follow the paths that are ‘normally’ expected from me – like moving into the city I work or earn money in the industry. It would be easier, but it wouldn’t make me happy. I would not feel free or like myself. I do it my own way. Maybe all the efforts are leading to nowhere and in a few years I will ask myself why I did what I do now. Hopefully I will remember then that liberty counts a lot more for me as a person than a career or fulfilling anyones expectations. To act in a way I can feel like myself is what liberty means for me.

What does liberty mean for you?

I wish you a week full of dreams and choices!

Like always: All credits appear after clicking the links. If you are interested in putting ads on My so-called Luck feel free to email me for details.