I never understood aviation until the day I lost it.
In the span of two weeks, I failed a flight physical with my increasingly weakened eyesight and found a tumor that was removed the following day. In that moment, as I lay on my bed pondering the potential loss of my entire professional life up to that point, it wasn’t the loss of money or experience or the prospect of entering the shrinking job market with little useful experience that truly scared me. What scared me was an existential loss—a loss of an experience. I flew again as a passenger before I fully understood my condition, and staring at the clouds out the Boeing 757 window, I came to a realization that I am only capable of in my most introspective moments: Aviation is not rational. Flight cannot be depicted through an analytical description of the scientific principles discovered by Isaac Newton and Daniel Bernoulli and pioneered by Orville and Wilbur Wright. It cannot even be put down to psychological explanations of a desire to be “above,” or the process of technological advancement.
