Random recollection: I got to ride a four-seater single-propeller plane (a Cessna?) on a nice sunny day during the summer of 2000. My friend Dan was logging hours to get his commercial pilot’s license, and he had invited me along. Up in the cockpit (wow, I get to sit in the cockpit!), I expected to just sit tight and enjoy the ride. We took off from the Palo Alto airstrip, and Dan gave a running commentary to me about what he was doing. After a short time in the sky, we landed at the airstrip that you see along the side of Hwy 101 North just past Redwood City. Cool. Then Dan turned to me and said with a smile, “Okay, you’re going to take off this time. Ready?” At first I laughed at the joke. And then… as he looked at me expectantly, I realized he was being serious. “Uh… okay…” *Gulp* My mind started racing, trying to make sense of this ridiculous situation. I had never flown a plane before. Planes are very very expensive and wrecking it would be very very bad. I had never had a single lesson in flying or aerodynamics. I had never even been in a cockput before!! What was Dan thinking?!? But somehow, I decided to do it anyway. I clutched the copilot’s “steering wheel” (hey, I had no idea what it was called) with some tentativeness, stared out at the runway, and listened to Dan’s instructions like I’ve never listened before. This time it kind of mattered.
Takeoff was shockingly easy (and, hehe, accident-free). “Wow, that was easier than learning to ride a bike!” However, flying in a straight line while a mile above the cold, hard ground was more difficult to coordinate than I thought. (Hey, I was nervous.) Flying over the Santa Cruz coast and watching the ants (oops, they were people) below was cool. Alas, Dan didn’t have me land the plane (which is much harder than takeoff to get right and, you know, not die). The whole experience was AWESOME. If it wasn’t so amazingly expensive to get a pilot’s license (not to mention get hold of a plane), I’d consider taking it up. Much more exciting than flying a remote-controlled plane… =P
So, I never really got an answer that day as to why takeoff had been so easy to perform even with a no-experience chump like me, but eventually I found out. To oversimplify, it’s primarily because I barely did anything and I just let the plane do its thing. I’ve heard it said that when a pilot taxis down the runway, gradually increasing the throttle until the aircraft is hurtling down the straight path with terrific speed, one of his primary tasks at the moment is actually to keep the nose of the plane *down*, to keep the front wheel on the ground, until the plane achieves the optimal speed. It is then at this point, at what some call the Point of Total Commitment, that the plane seems to just liftoff on its own, without requiring the exertion or urging of the pilot. For it is at this point, this Point of Total Commitment, that it is easier for the plane to liftoff and fly than to stay on the ground.
Point of Total Commitment… I can’t find that term online anywhere with regard to flying, but I did keep pulling these verses up:
“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.” Matt 13: 44-45
Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” Matt 19:21
One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “`Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: `Love your neighbor as yourself.'” Matt 22:36-39
So what are you totally committed too? What will you throw everything to the wind for?