Turbulence is Expected

When Turbulence Hits

In a moment of physical turbulence on a flight, you face a decision: spiral into catastrophic thinking or accept the temporary discomfort. Let's admit it—we've all felt both. The plane violently shakes, and your imagination conjures fiery wreckage. Yet statistically speaking, you're absurdly safe—safer than the drive to the airport.

Life's anxieties operate with the same deceptive mechanics.

You bomb a presentation. A relationship hits rocky terrain. Your bank account dwindles. Your health shows concerning signs. These moments of psychological turbulence trigger the same catastrophic mental simulations: professional ruin, heartbreak, poverty, mortality.

But haven't you heard your pilot say it enough? Turbulence is expected.

The Illusion of Permanent Disaster

Anxiety thrives on convincing us that temporary discomfort equates to permanent disaster. It's a masterful illusionist, showing us only the worst possible outcome while obscuring the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. It serves as both a megaphone (for your negative thoughts) and a muffler (for your positive ones).

Consider this: 99.9999% of things you've feared as future catastrophes never materialized. Or if they did, you navigated through them with previously unimagined resilience. Yet anxiety persists in suggesting that this time is different—this time, the plane really will crash.

It won't. Turbulence is expected.

Find your Foundations

Professional pilots don't white-knuckle through turbulence because they understand the engineering behind flight stability. They've internalized the fundamentals that keep planes aloft despite air pockets and crosswinds.

We need the same for our anxiety.

For financial turbulence, your fundamentals might be your employability, your track record of resilience, or your capacity to adapt to changing circumstances. For turbulence in your relationships, perhaps it's your self-worth independent of others, or your history of meaningful connections.

Without the fundamentals, every bump feels like structural failure. With them, you recognize turbulence for what it is: uncomfortable but navigable—and expected.

Sometimes Turbulence Intensifies

But sometimes turbulence intensifies. Even the flight attendants look nervous. And the circumstances we face can intensify too. These moments demand immediate intervention—therapy, medication, radical life changes. There's no shame in needing these measures; they exist precisely because turbulence occasionally exceeds our individual capacity to manage.

But even then, remember this: turbulence is not failure. It's physics. It's life. It's the unavoidable consequence of moving through an unpredictable world. Turbulence is expected.

Choosing Your Response

The next time anxiety strikes—when your chest tightens and your thoughts accelerate into dark territories—remember you're experiencing expected turbulence. Not evidence of imminent disaster. Balance your body's natural heightened awareness with the foundations which have existed far beyond this fleeting moment.

Your history of resilience is evidence that contradicts anxiety's direst predictions. By acknowledging the discomfort without catastrophizing it, you reclaim control from the spiral of worry. This doesn't mean dismissing genuine concerns, but rather placing them in proper perspective.

Remember that navigating life's turbulence isn't about eliminating discomfort—it's about developing the capacity to move through it with greater ease. And with each episode you successfully weather, you build further evidence of your ability to handle whatever comes next.