The Sky Within Us: Always Looking Up

By: Su The Flying Psychotherapist

There’s a kind of quiet magic that happens the moment we hear a plane rumble across the sky.

No matter where we are—in traffic, in a meeting, washing dishes—it’s as though a hidden string tugs gently at our attention. We pause. Our eyes lift. And for a heartbeat, our hearts tilt skyward, reminded that there’s a world far bigger than the one pressing close around us.

It’s a simple moment. But it’s also profound.

When we’re children, that sound stirs pure wonder. We crane our necks, eyes wide and shining, tracing the silver shape carving paths through the clouds. In our minds, airplanes become shooting stars carrying secrets, adventures, and the promise of places we’ve never been.

We see ourselves up there—as pilots, explorers, or simply free spirits daring to leave the ground. That wonder isn’t logical. It’s magic. It’s the seed of every dream that refuses to stay small.

But as the years go on, life happens.

Responsibilities tighten around us like seatbelts. Bills, deadlines, heartbreaks, disappointments. The wings we once imagined spread so easily feel weighed down. We trade toy airplanes for laptops and to-do lists. Our days become grounded in routine rather than lifted by possibility.

And yet—even then—something stirs when a plane passes overhead.

For the briefest moment, the child in us whispers:

Remember what it felt like to dream?

It’s a flicker, a spark. A flash of memory reminding us that we once believed the sky belonged to us, too. And for those few seconds, we feel that familiar rush—a quiet electricity humming in our chest, hinting at bigger worlds.

As I’ve grown older, both as a retired flight attendant and as a therapist, I’ve realized something beautiful:

The wonder of looking up never truly leaves us.—its a quiet reverence born of a lifetime of looking up.

Because here’s the truth:

The sky doesn’t belong to any one age.

It belongs to every heart brave enough to look up and believe.

Bringing Therapy Into the Skies

Over the years, I’ve sat with many clients who’ve felt disconnected from that spark. Sometimes it’s a fear of flying. Sometimes it’s fear of change, of failure, of leaving the safety of the runway behind.

Fear convinces us that if we stay grounded, we’ll be safe. But growth—and flight—ask us to trust in lift.

So how do we keep looking up, even when life feels heavy?

Here’s how I blend my sky-loving soul with tools from therapy:

CBT Skill: Check the Facts

When fear takes hold—whether it’s fear of turbulence or fear of chasing a new dream—pause and ask:

• What evidence do I have that this fear is true?

• Is there another, more balanced way to see this?

• What’s the worst that could happen? Could I handle it if it did?

Fear whispers stories that feel true. Facts remind us we’re safer and more capable than our mind insists.

ACT Principle: Values Over Fear

Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) teaches us that discomfort is often the price of living a life that matters.

Ask yourself:

• What does flying—or dreaming—represent for me?

• Is this aligned with my values of freedom, growth, adventure?

• Am I willing to feel uncomfortable in service of something bigger?

You don’t have to eliminate fear to fly. You just have to let your values chart your course.

Mindfulness: Pause and Notice

Next time a plane passes overhead, practice mindful awareness:

• Notice your breath.

• Feel your feet on the ground.

• Watch the silver wings against the clouds.

Even a single moment of looking up can reconnect you with hope, curiosity, and possibility.

Reframe the Story

Instead of saying:

“I’ll never feel brave enough to fly.”

Try:

“I can feel afraid and still choose to take flight.”

Or:

“The sky has room for me, even with my fear.”

This is true whether you’re chasing literal skies or metaphorical ones.

Keep Looking Up

So the next time you hear that distant rumble above, don’t just let it fade into background noise.

Pause.

Look up.

Let your mind drift to faraway places.

Let your heart remember what it felt like to dream. Let yourself become that child again, even for a moment.

Because the true fuel of life isn’t just oxygen or routine—it’s wonder. It’s curiosity. It’s the fierce, relentless desire to rise higher than our fears ever thought possible.

And perhaps that’s what life is truly about:

Always looking up.Always dreaming.Never losing the sky within us.

Keep looking up.

Your next adventure is waiting.