Fear of Flying

You can’t remain indifferent when facing the news that 228 people lost the lives on board of an airplane in flight from Rio De Janeiro to Paris. The images, the torture of the familiar, the daily news puts in front of us this great tragedy of the sky. This time, unlike for other tragedies, we live with not knowing the mystery that caused a very reliable aircraft like the Airbus 330 to sink into the Atlantic Ocean. And on all of the newspapers talk about fear of flying. My point of view is different: I would call it appointment with destiny, for some sign of the irrevocable last word, for others, like the two passengers that remained on land because one of their passports had expired, another chance at life. I do not want to enter in the figures which show that the air transportation is the most secure from the statistical point of view; I want instead to reflect; so how I am doing myself same in these sad days, together with you who read. More than a fear of flying, it is necessary to talk about fear of wasting real life pursuing a reality that does not belong to us and that instead take what comes to us daily as a model to imitate. I ask myself what I would do if I were one of these two “miraculously saved” passengers. Most likely nothing. I would not change my life that is already so full that will remain so. I think, without faking modesty, I am on the right track; a road once again traced from the desert, a road that I have traveled alone and that I wanted to retrace together with others on the first edition of Desert Therapy. A road that I want to cross again many more times as long as there will be people that want to share in these emotion with me. I am not afraid to fly, because I have still so much desire to live.