Occasionally, I forget why I'm even here. I spend so much time worrying about checkrides, work, class, political problems, and my own insignificant life that I often fail to remember what I'm here for. I aviated this evening, and it was one of those spiritual experiences that other people always seem to be talking about. I've had experiences like this before, but it's been quite a while. The air was smooth, the visibility incredible, and there didn't seem to be another soul within 50 miles. I took off intending to practice some maneuvers in preparation for tomorrow's checkride, but after just a few I abandoned the idea. I haven't flown just to fly for a long time. I've always been going somewhere, having to do something, trying to finish a lesson... this time it was just me and the airplane. A greater feeling of freedom you may never experience in your entire life. I turned and climbed and and made large lazy eights across the sky, I went where ever I fancied, I maneuvered on a whim, and I danced with angels on silver-lined clouds. When I saw the sunset from 6,000 feet, I found peace. All of my problems, along with everyone else was a mile below me, and life was perfect, if only for a few minutes. I still find it hard to believe that they pay people to do this... and I can't for the life of me understand how someone could see such a sight and not know without a shadow of a doubt that there is a just and loving God.
Sorry to get all philosophical, I need to go hit the books now. Oh, and here's a little something so Eric won't throw a hissy fit: "Convoginator's Eric Thong Underwear."
Jeff C.
