Express yourself

Throughout my long career in general aviation, I’ve been asked one question fairly consistently. It’s a good one. A query that people who meet me really want to hear an answer to. And so I answer honestly.

They ask this: “How do you do it?”

Obviously, context is important. Without knowing what “it” is, the question is too confusing to ponder for long. In my case, the “it” is writing a weekly column.

Invariably the individual asking the question goes on to say they couldn’t possibly think up a topic to write about every week.

Of course they could. So could you. In fact, almost anyone can do it.

Just as pretty much anyone who wants to learn to fly can do so.

But few actually try. That’s the dividing line between those who do and those who merely dream of bigger things and a more exciting life.

That’s the shame of it. We’re not held back by some nefarious outside force. With few exceptions we are the governor that limits the scope and breadth of our own lives.

I learned this young.

As a hippie kid of the 1970s I wanted to be in a band, as did so many of my peers. But only a small fraction of us actually picked up an instrument and learned to play. A subset of that group met up with other musical neophytes to experiment with playing the same song together at the same time.

Of those, only a smattering went out and played in a public setting. And of those just a handful were bold enough to ask to be paid for playing original music.

By the time you get to the point that you’ve recorded an album, moved several states away to advance your career, and put up with the extreme hardship of finding housing, food, transportation, and your next paying gig, you can now count yourself among the fraction of a percent of people who can call themselves a professional musician.

That story isn’t so far removed from the one that leads us down the almost always bumpy path to the cockpit.

For that matter it’s not too distant from what it takes to publish a unique piece of writing every week for more than 30 years, either.

I’ve been writing for General Aviation News on a weekly basis for more than 15 years. The pursuit of putting intelligible words on to my computer and transferring them to my editor has been one of the great adventures of my life.

Because of this gig I’ve had the opportunity to meet Flying Tigers and Tuskegee Airmen. I’ve spoken to more World War II flight crew members than I can count. Included in that group was Steven Spielberg’s dad, Arnold, who served as a Burma Bridge Buster. A truly impressive group.

That one means a lot to me because I’d met Steven himself many years before in New York City, during my musician phase. Years later I was privileged to meet Harrison Ford. I don’t believe I’ve ever written about those encounters. For while they’re interesting to me, I’m not at all sure the story of those meetings would be of any real interest to you.

All of which leaves the original question unanswered. How do I do it? How do I come up with a new original topic to spout off about every week?

I will tell you. My method is neither noble or secret.

If I don’t already have an idea or two rolling around in my head, as I almost always do, I mow the lawn. Sometimes I clean the kitchen or do laundry. I commit myself to doing something — anything — that requires little thought but a fair amount of time.

While engaged physically but not mentally, I daydream.

As it turns out one of the most productive skills I learned in grade school was the ability to look out the window, filter out everything going on around me, and let my mind wander. I do not concentrate on the task at hand. Rather, I let my mind go wherever it wants to go.

As a result I’ve never had a day of writer’s block. Not in my entire career.

You see, when concentrating on a task, whether calculating my tax bill or shooting an ILS approach down to minimums, I’m focused. I exclude all extraneous distractions as I make the task itself the focal point of my mental processes.

On the other hand, if I let my mind drift as it wishes, I’m open to everything that enters my head. Memories come into play, both recent experiences and those from decades past.

It’s been said that everything is connected. I believe that to be true.

More than 34 years after the fact I can still clearly remember flight lessons I conducted as a CFI with my first student. Issues that arose on that flight repeated themselves with other students on subsequent flights in the years to come.

That’s fodder for storytelling.

If I were focused on my next flight, a scheduled meeting, or whether I should take that suspicion of termite infestation seriously, creativity would not be the result. By the same token, when I’m crossing the final approach fix and still haven’t seen the runway, I’m not letting my mind wander down circuitous paths to wherever it wants to go.

There is a time for intense concentration just as there is time for disconnected daydreaming. Both have their place in our lives. I was just lucky enough to discover that truth when I was young, owned an actual typewriter (the Royal my mother lugged through her college years), and harbored the possibly irrational belief that someone outside my little bubble might be interested in what I had to say.

So, with all the sincerity I can muster, allow me to suggest you too take the words of Charles Wright and the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band to heart and “Express Yourself.”

But don’t do it while flying from the left seat. Save this pursuit for quieter times when you’re on solid ground with time to spare.