"I want to get off this plane! It's obviously not safe!" It was the
week after this fall's EgyptAir crash, and the nervous passenger on
the Paris-bound plane was reacting to flight delay announcements.
First, there
were mechanical problems -- but those had been corrected, said the
pilot. Now we were waiting to lose some fuel before takeoff.
"Why do we have to lose fuel if there's nothing wrong? Let me
off!" the passenger insisted.
The truly amazing thing about this episode, for me, was that I
wasn't the freaked-out woman in question.
For I, too, am a fearful flyer who's had her own share of
irrational in-flight moments. I once convinced myself my plane was
going to crash after seeing Christopher Reeve, the actor, get on
board. (See, we share the same birthday -- even the same year --
and when I saw him, years before his paralyzing accident, I figured
we were fated to die on the same day, too.)
I know it's ironic, being a white-knuckled travel industry
writer. But in the 12 years I've been covering the business, I've
developed my own arsenal of weapons for fighting fear -- tactics
you or your clients also may find useful.
Although I'm a little nervous during takeoff and turbulence, I
usually calm down enough to read during a flight -- an
impossibility in the early days, when fear consumed me so totally I
did nothing but sit there, frozen, except for a foot that popped up
in a nervous dance of terror.
I can now handle eight-hour flights to Europe -- but, after one
nightmare trip to Singapore I've vowed never to test my tolerance
with too many hours on a plane, so Australia and Asia are out.
Having developed more in-flight sanity, I was only a spectator
while the drama on the Paris-bound flight played out. After an
initial flub -- the flight attendant failed to properly address the
panicked woman's concerns -- the pilot finally did the right thing.
He came back to the cabin to explain things more fully to the
jittery passenger, who was duly calmed.
That incident illustrated one of the most important things I've
learned in my continuing quest to unwhiten my knuckles: Although
fear seems to be a physical, involuntary response, it is nearly
always triggered by something you hear or tell yourself, however
unconsciously.
The woman on the plane, already nervous after a week of nonstop
coverage of the EgyptAir crash (where the unspoken message seemed
to be "flying has just gotten a lot more dangerous" ), heard
something about "mechanical problems" and her imagination went into
overdrive. But the fact that the pilot was able to calm her down
showed that, yes, fears can be tamed by talking back to them with
reality-based statements.
I've learned to be my own calming pilot during a flight,
disputing irrational or overemotional thoughts as well as saying to
myself, "I am safe, I am safe," which I've found surprisingly
effective.
I've honed my terror-fighting skills a number of different ways.
Back in the early days of my travel industry career, when I
realized I'd better do something to save my sanity and/or my job, I
took the Seminars On Aeroanxiety Relief (SOAR) fear of flying
course on audiotape.
I found the tape format particularly useful because it was as if
somebody were talking right into my unconscious. (More on SOAR in
the sidebar below).
Most recently, learning cognitive therapy techniques reinforced
the lesson I learned from SOAR about tuning out my scary in-flight
movie by focusing on what's really happening during the flight.
Gaining enough flight experience to desensitize me to the
sensations of a typical flight was very helpful, too.
Other resources I've used include a videotape (from a
now-defunct company) that duplicates the sounds and sights of
takeoff and flight to desensitize me before a trip and two
"natural" tranquilizers from the health food store, called Rescue
Remedy and Calming.
There's something exhilarating about confronting your fears -- a
fact I forget but relearn every time I take a flight. What a
triumphant feeling to land, knowing I've dared to defy my deepest
terrors -- and, yes, that I'm safe on the ground once again.
First aid for fear
If you're a nervous flyer -- or are looking for suggestions for
white-knuckled clients -- the following steps can help:
Read the book "White Knuckles" by Layne Ridley. Some of the
book is a witty account of how Ridley finally made peace with
planes, with discussions of various fear-taming techniques.
There's also much helpful
information on the safe reality of flying, such as the chapter
titled "The Horrible Things That Could Happen -- And Why They
Don't."
Published in 1987, the paperback is now out of print, but you
can order it through www.abebooks.com.
Check out the SOAR workshop, developed by airline pilot and
licensed therapist Tom Bunn.For $390, the fearful flyer will receive a package of audiotapes
and manuals plus two hours of individual counseling with Bunn --
for all of which there's a money-back guarantee.
The merchandise alone (without the counseling) costs $285.
Individual counseling with Bunn is $95 an hour -- an option that
can be useful when people need help immediately for an upcoming
trip, he said.
For more information, check out www.fearofflying.com (for SOAR) or www.flighthelp.com
(for counseling). Or call either (800) 332-7359 or (877)
332-7359.
Consider making an effort to book those who hate turbulence on
American Airlines. The carrier's flights are no less bumpy than
those of other airlines', but it seems to be the line whose pilots
best recognize that turbulence can be nerve-wracking -- and who
make a consistent effort to reassure passengers during a
flight.For example, when the plane started some fairly extreme shaking
on my last American flight, the pilot said, "I know this makes some
people anxious, but there's nothing wrong. The plane is stable and
not affected by any turbulence."