Flying solo

Flying Solo – And Loving the Ride of Building Resilience

Flying solo. Just saying it out loud gives me a little shiver of excitement. It’s that mix of butterflies in the belly, the thrill of the unknown, and the whisper of “can I really do this?” I’m sure you’ve felt it too – those moments where you step out alone, no safety net, and suddenly you’re the pilot of your own life.

And let me tell you – it’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. But that’s the magic, isn’t it?

Comfort Zones and Wobbly Hearts

Flying solo isn’t just about planes (although I’ll get to that!). It’s about those moments in life when you decide to back yourself – in work, love, business, or adventure. It’s stepping outside your comfort zone, shutting out the naysayers (including that little gremlin in your head muttering “what if it all goes wrong?”) and choosing to take the controls.

Because here’s the thing – you can’t fly if you’re clinging to the passenger seat.

Leaving the Nest at Sixteen

My first big solo flight in life happened at 16. I left home, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and itching to see what was out there. I thank my parents every day for trusting me enough to “fly the coop.” I was scared, sure, but also buzzing with the thrill of stepping out into the big wide world on my own terms.

Looking back, I see now that was the start of a pattern: choosing to back myself, again and again, in ways that scared the life out of me but always, always expanded me.

Literal Flying Solo

Fast-forward a few years (okay, a few decades) and I found myself not just metaphorically flying solo, but literally taking the pilot’s seat. My dad flew solo in his Tiger Moth. My brother did it in a glider at 16. And me? At 42, I strapped into a Texan 550 single engine and decided it was my turn.

I’d taken six weeks’ leave from Qantas, where I’d been an international flight attendant for 12 years, and instead of blowing my money gallivanting around the world, I put it into flying lessons. I knew in my gut this wasn’t just going to be a course. Something big was about to shift – I just didn’t know how yet.

First Solo – And a Wobble

The big day came. Early morning. Clear skies. Hardly any traffic. Perfect conditions.

After a few circuits with the chief pilot, I landed smoothly, taxied back, and thought that was that. But nope – he had other plans. He hopped out, gave me a grin, and basically said, “Alright, off you go. Solo!”

Now, let me tell you, I felt every pair of eyes on the Caloundra airfield burning holes into my plane. But my checklist was done, my heart was racing, and I thought – well, here we go girl!

I pushed that throttle forward, lifted off, and… woo hoo! Yippee ki-yay! I was flying solo for the very first time. The view, the freedom, the sheer joy – it was unforgettable.

Trust, Twists, and Timing

But here’s where it gets interesting. That flying solo experience didn’t just give me wings in the sky – it gave me courage in life.

See, just as I was about to wrap up my training and head back to Qantas, a friend rang me. She’d taken the redundancy package and was leaving the airline. Something in me clicked. Without a plan, without crunching the numbers, I blurted out – “Me too!”

Fear hit me like turbulence. After all, I was giving up a secure, well-paid job for… well, I had no idea what. But I knew it was time.

The Freefall Before the Flight

The next day I showed up to my flying lesson teary-eyed and told my instructor (nicknamed Master Yoda for his wisdom and impersonations), “I’ve just quit Qantas. What the hell have I done?”

He smiled and said, “Exactly what you wanted.”

And he was right.

Yes, I felt like I was free-falling. But here’s the secret – free-fall always comes before the flight.

A Corridor of Doors

When I closed the Qantas chapter, it felt like suddenly I was standing in a corridor lined with doors. I could do anything: open a café, be a Shiatsu therapist, become a coach, even train as a flight instructor.

Opportunities flooded in once I made that leap. And yes, it took a year of trial, error, and plenty of wobbles, but slowly I built my own path. My own systems. My own checklists.

Just like flying, life became about planning, navigating, adjusting for turbulence, and keeping my eyes on the horizon.

Flying Solo in Life

Here’s my analogy:

Taxiing out = deciding to leave the old life behind.
Runway check = telling people your plans, checking your gear, making sure you’re ready.
Take-off = that scary but exhilarating moment when you commit.
Climb = building momentum, scanning for obstacles, adjusting as needed.
Emergency procedures = because sometimes life throws an engine failure at you, and you’ve got to glide yourself to safety with the systems you’ve practiced.

And the golden rule? Fly the plane first. Always.

Or in life terms – focus on what matters most. Don’t give up.

Reflection

It’s been years now since I left the corporate nest, and I’ve never looked back. Sure, there have been bumps, diversions, and days where I thought, “what on earth have I done?” But every time I doubted myself, I came back to the lesson I learned that first solo flight:

Trust yourself. Take the controls. And just fly the damn plane.

So if you’re standing at your own runway, wondering if you should go for it – remember this:

✨ “Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right.” – Henry Ford

Set your flight plan. Take the first step. And don’t wait for perfect conditions – because the magic only happens when you actually take off.

By Linda McCall