I’m flying. I’m alone, in the pilot’s seat, passing through the skies. Moments ago it was a bright, sunny day, but it’s dark now, and it’s beginning to rain. The clouds are thickening. The moisture begins to bead and streak across the body of the tiny plane, coming down in larger and more frequent drops all the time. In the distance, lightning strikes. The flash momentarily illuminates the tiny world below, and the image lingers in my mind like a photograph. I’m suddenly aware of how far down it is. Minutes later another flash appears, and I catch it in my eye. The splintered figure of the lightning bolt, temporarily burned into my retina, confuses my vision. Everything I see has the ominous shape of a leafless, many branched tree etched into it.
I can feel the fear beginning. Too many things can go wrong. I should turn back, but I won’t; I’m too near to my goal now. If I can just limp across the finish line, I’ll be okay. The foreboding reality of my situation is obscured by the paradise that lies beyond. Victory is near. As I contemplate the reward awaiting me in the distance, it is suddenly clear to me how much I’ve left behind to pursue it. Is it worth it? Is this the achievement that will open the doors to the places I want to go? I dismiss the thought, thinking – at the least, it’s a stepping stone. It brings me closer. The sacrifice is worth it. I can see the runway now, and I allow myself a moment of joy. And then, the engine stops.
I could still make it. It’s not that far away. I struggle with the controls as the nose of the plane fights it’s way downward, little by little. The engine coughs as I try to restart it, black smoke pouring out with every turn. A gust picks me up for a moment, pushing me off course but also higher, giving me more time. I gently guide the small craft back toward the airstrip, and relentlessly coax the engine to start. I don’t know what’s wrong, and I probably couldn’t fix it from here anyway, but all I need is a little more power to get me there. Instead, the engine produces a massive wall of smoke, and moments later catches fire. I’m afraid now. The fear is inside me, in every part of me, but still I press on. It’s not death that scares me, or injury, but failure. The thought that I’ve come this far, I’ve tried this hard, and I might not make it.
The plane is nearing the ground now, accelerating. I’m so close. I’m so damn close. I can feel it, the taste of it, the smell and the sound. It’s right there, but I just can’t make it. There’s nothing I can do. All that’s left now is to ride out my failure with as much grace as possible. I’ve lost.