Preflight

I had my first official flying lesson this week. After years of waiting, dreaming, and psyching myself out a little, I finally stepped up to a Cessna 172P as a student pilot.

I’ve done a couple of discovery flights before, but this time was different. This wasn’t just a joyride. This was training. This was commitment. This was the real beginning.

We didn’t actually leave the ground. I’ll admit — part of me was disappointed. I’ve been imagining that first takeoff as a student pilot for years. But this is where the journey really begins. And I keep reminding myself: enjoy the process. Be present. This is all part of it.

For about an hour and a half, we walked around the aircraft, checklist in hand. Antennas, lights, fuel, oil, instruments, control surfaces. My instructor explained how each part works, how to tell when something’s wrong, and how important it is to really know the machine before ever turning the key.

Then came the engine start. The run-up. And the part that seems so simple, but is its own skill entirely: taxiing. Just a few loops around the ramp, feet dancing on the rudder pedals, learning how this machine actually moves.

But beneath all of that — the checklists, the taxiing, the newness of it all — was this swirl of emotion I’m still unpacking. A little excitement. A little fear. And a lot of unease.

Most of my life, I’ve done what I was supposed to do. I went to college for the stable job I thought I needed. I went to grad school because it felt like the next step I was supposed to take. Eventually, though, I reached a point where I had to make a choice — and for the first time, I chose myself. That choice led me to Disney, where I made lifelong friends and met my future wife.

Flying doesn’t feel exactly like that, but it carries a similar heartbeat. This time, I’m not being pushed by circumstance — I’m choosing with intention. It’s expensive, it’s overwhelming, and it’s uncomfortable to say out loud that I need this. But I do. I need to do this for me.

We ran out of time before we could take off, but I left grinning ear to ear. Overwhelmed, yes. But also proud. I’ve been waiting for this for years, and now I’m finally here.

Today’s magical moment: presence.

Because presence is what lets me set aside the pressure of milestones, and instead savor the process — each checklist, each new skill, each small step forward. It’s what turns training into joy, and reminds me that fully living life isn’t about rushing to the destination, but being awake to the journey.