It has been exactly 365 days since I last stepped onto a plane. A full year since I paid for an over priced protein bar and juice at an airport market shop. To some people a year might not seem like a long amount of time to not travel by plane. However, I did the math on my average number of flights in a year between 2014 - 2020 to give you a numeric idea of my relationship with flying. The average number of flights I would take: 37. That is three flights a month on average (not including layover flight patterns).
My lifestyle was intertwined with flight deals, travel planning, scoping stories internationally, making itineraries to visit new contacts for documentaries, and daydreaming of being dropped in a new environment for me to explore.
Doing what I do best: connecting, photographing, and finding reasons to smile.
On February 19th 2020 I was flying home from Miami, Florida after an invigorating visit with friends. As you already know, this day in 2020 was nearing the official global pandemic alert and lockdown. In the airport there were a few dozen travelers with masks, but the travel ecosystem was predominantly the same. I remember popping two Vitamin C dissolving packets into my water bottle before my flight and feeling solid about my immune system. We had yet to understand the upcoming impacts of the Coronavirus.
Like many of my avid travelers, international journalists, and photographers, I had to adapt to the postponement of many travel plans I had made for filming purposes in 2020. On March 10th I had to cancel five upcoming international flights for the remainder of the year. In fact, I am still sitting on travel vouchers and credit from the airlines.
As flying is becoming more and more a part of life again, I still haven’t felt comfortable getting on a flight.
I have Celiac Disease - an autoimmune disorder that presents me from digesting gluten, wheat, barley, and rye. I reason with myself that I am being cautious because of my immune system being slightly compromised to begin with, but that is not entirely true.
I have tried to grapple with what my truth is for not being comfortable with flying yet. I don’t have a clear definition for my apprehension. I know that I have anxiety thinking about the amount of people who refuse to have the kindness and human decency to wear a mask to protect the spreading of COVID-19. I know that I don’t trust the majority of people on a flight to remain with a mask on for 2-10+ hours depending on the flight. I know that I don’t want to limit my life based off the actions of others, and I want to find a way to feel comfortable. I know that travel has always been a privilege, but to me it feels additionally entitled to be flying right now without a dire reason. I know that my time and energy can be utilized here in my own community even when I miss the feeling of being immersed in new communities. I know that I don’t want to put anyone at risk and there are safety precautions in place to make travel more responsible. I know that I worry about spreading the virus to the people I love the most when I return….
I know that I will get on a flight in the upcoming year, but it will be when I have truly understood my feelings on flying during these times.
Hitchhiking in the Icelandic winter with my fellow photographers.
In the meantime, I have found avenues of adventure in my own sweet spot of the United States. I have made a cross country road trip in my Jeep Wrangler to Colorado for one of my best friend’s wedding. I have camped out in the true wilderness of the Ozarks. I have felt the urgency to report, share stories, and document the important issues in my own region and country. I have reconnected with my Native Quapaw ancestral paternal lineage. I have driven a U-Haul across states to safely move my Nana into her new apartment. I have road tripped to the outskirts of Northern Wisconsin to XC ski on one of the best trail systems in the United States. I have been continuously challenged to dig deeper into introspection, and to be an advocate for my own country’s pressing issues. I have been extremely blessed during a time when many are dying, struggling, grieving, and shouting for aid.
When I began writing this little pondering, I did not know where my thoughts would take me. A full year without flying felt like an interesting take on my previous life of living out of a suitcase. Yet here I am, fully grateful for the time I had over the last year to be present, to be here, and to STILL be here.
This is what here looks like for me at the moment.