Fear of Flying and a Band Called Flypaper

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Hi Karisha.

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Savannah’s band Flypaper rehearses in the partially finished basement of the house Zazzy, the bass player, rents. Tonight they’re celebrating being chosen as a last-minute replacement headliner for Bloomington, Indiana’s annual Grandfalloon Festival.

“This is the beginning of everything,” the band’s drummer Jenny says dramatically, handing around slices of the pizza she ordered as soon as she heard the wonderful news.
“That band biography you wrote was amazing, Nastassya!”
“It was the video of us performing in the park that got us the gig,” Nastassya says. “Be sure to thank your mom again. She has serious skills.”
“We are the champions!” Min-Ji sings in Savannah’s face.

Savannah forces herself to smile as she pretends to shoo Min-Ji away. Before it had fully sunk in how delightful it was that her band had been chosen, Savannah began dreading the flight she’d expected to take to get there. The last time she was on a plane, she felt like she was having a nervous breakdown during takeoff, and she spent the rest of the flight trying to calm down. Luckily, she was on her way home, and she hasn’t had to fly since.

She wonders if anyone will be willing to drive to the festival with her. She looks up how long it will take by car. About 36 hours. The festival isn’t for three months, so she has some time to come up with a plan.

A university student reporter from the city where the festival will occur emails Savannah to schedule a phone interview. Although she loves the idea of being interviewed, it reminds her that there are now only two and a half months until she’ll be expected to get on a plane. By the time the reporter calls, it’s down to 10 weeks and three days.

His first question is about the band’s name.
“Why did you call yourselves Flypaper?” he asks.
“Well,” Savannah says, “It’s from this book by David Grossman where one of the characters is talking about how people are like flies, so the stories they are told should be like flypaper.”
“Wow. You know what? My name is David too. I think I forgot to introduce myself.”
“Nice to meet you,” Savannah says.
“David Yadav, actually. My full name, I mean. I love to read.”
“Nice,” Savannah says. “I read Grossman’s book for an insanely intense literature seminar in college. Had no idea what I was getting into.”
“Wow, that’s cool. I’m about to graduate. Um, so what kind of music does your band play?”
“Post-existential grit rock,” Savannah says smoothly. Then she repeats it two times until he’s gotten it.
“Um,” David says, “how would you describe post-existential grit rock?”
“Well, existential grit is basically what we develop to deal with all the crap life throws at us, including the questions of meaning and purpose.” Savannah says, thinking of how much grit she’s gonna need to not melt down on the plane, if she can even make herself get on it.

She continues. “It’s about having goals and focusing on them instead of feeling hopeless.”
“That sounds good,” David says.
“Sure. And our music is post- existential grit, so more about moving to acceptance. No more gritting, you know.”
“No more gritting,” David repeats cheerfully. “And was the type of music also inspired by that book you mentioned?”
“Nope, we tell stories, which is why we’re a great fit for a festival inspired by the writer Kurt Vonnegut.”
“Wow, give me a sec to jot that down. Okay, so how did you become a post-existential grit rock band?”

“Our sound and ethos evolved over time,” Savannah says, since she just made up the entire musical genre. That’s one of her skills, spouting nonsense in a confident manner.
“Great, great,” David says. “I forgot to mention that I love your music. I listened to all of it as soon as I heard I’d be interviewing you.”
“Thank you,” Savannah responds warmly.
“I’m so sorry,” David says abruptly. “My mom is calling for the third time. I’m worried something is wrong.”
“Oh, please call her back.”
“Thank you. I’ll text about scheduling again.”

Karisha: So Savannah, when she’s describing her musical genre, is talking about, she’s making up, is talking about becoming, accepting discomfort, becoming more comfortable with discomfort instead of like having to grit and fight against it. And like something we always talk about is the harder you push against something, the stronger it becomes, right? Because when we’re thinking, don’t think this thought, don’t think this thought or whatever, we think it more and more. It just doesn’t really work.

And something we do with hypnotherapy is we try to lower discomfort wherever possible. Often, it’s not possible to remove it completely. I’m talking about all kinds of discomfort. So in those cases, we do help people become more comfortable and able to expand their comfort with discomfort.

Makiko: So when there is a trigger for discomfort, and that trigger should not be the trigger for discomfort, then we can desensitize, which we’re going to talk about later, to that trigger. But there are cases where we kind of have to live with the discomfort, at least for maybe a certain period of time. And so like when you have some financial issues, you know, and that would give you a discomfort, but it’s not necessarily something that you can resolve within a few weeks, maybe, you know, it could take several months, or maybe a few years.

And it would be unreasonable to expect to completely eliminate that discomfort. And so then we can help to feel, you know, to be able to manage the discomfort, I guess,

Karisha: Right, and to still be able to enjoy life and have positive experiences while experiencing this discomfort.

At the beginning of her band’s next practice, Savannah says she has something she needs to talk to them about. Jenny looks at Min-Ji nervously. They’d been discussing how strangely Savannah’s been behaving.

“I don’t think I can go to a festival gig,” Savannah says. There is an explosion of protest from the rest of the band.
“Why?”
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean you can’t go?”
“That’s crazy.”

“Calm down. Let me explain. If I get on the plane, I’ll freak out. It happened before and I can’t do it again.”
“You’re afraid of flying?” Jenny asks. “Or are you claustrophobic?”
“We can get you medication,” Min-Ji says.
“Or you can use mine.” Nastassya volunteers.
“I’m afraid of flying,” Savannah says. “And I’m afraid if I take enough of anything to calm down, I won’t recover in time for the performance. You know how I am.”

Jenny groans. “Yeah, but it’s better to risk it than not go. We can’t perform without you.”
“What about driving?” Zazzy asks. “I’ll go with you. My car’s in pretty good shape.”
“I was thinking about that,” Savannah says gratefully. “It would only take two days if we took turns.”
“But haven’t you already used up all your days off, Savannah?” Jenny asks. Savannah’s shoulders slump.
“And it’s not like you’d be able to drive nonstop. You’d end up taking way longer.”
“It’s worth quitting for this,” Zazzy insists. “We’ll help you get something else.”

“Why don’t you try hypnosis?” Min-Ji suggests.
“Hypnosis?” Nastassya asks in surprise.
“Sure, it’s great for fears and stuff.”
“Have you ever been hypnotized?”
“Not yet,” Min-Ji admits. “But I’ve been thinking about it for my nail-biting.”
“Well, I’ll support anything that gets Savannah to our gig,” Jenny says. “If you’re willing to try it out, Savannah, let me know what it costs. I’ll help.”
“I can kick in too,” Zazzy offers.
“Uh, thanks. I’m sure I’m okay for the first session,” Savannah says unconvincingly. They all know about the desperate state of her finances.
“You don’t even know what it costs yet,” Min-Ji says. I can help too.”
“Maybe,” Savannah says. At 26, she’s already declared bankruptcy after the combination of a rough divorce, a health emergency, and a job loss led to enormous debts.
Nastassya says, “if we all tip in, it’ll be easy.”
“I know someone who used hypnotherapy to help with a very personal, private problem that I can’t share,” Min-Ji says. I’ll ask him who he went to.”
“What problem?” Jenny asks loudly, as Zazzy yells, “Who? Liam? Was it Liam?”
“You’re all so great,” Savannah says, “and much better with money than I am.”

When Savannah talks to the reporter the second time, it’s over a video call.
“Sorry about leaving so quickly before,”s David says. “Thank you for agreeing to talk again. Last time, I was about to mention that I read somewhere that you said your music was post ‘pretty’ pop.”
“That was an aesthetic judgment I was making, not a musical one. We’ve all had hard lives, and it shows. I’m 26, and people regularly think I’m in my late 30s. Same with Jenny, who’s my age. The rest of the band is 28 to 39, and they’ve had it rough too. But Jenny and I are always thought to be the oldest. It’s so weird, but we just embrace it. No expectations. Our photos don’t have special lighting or filters or touch-ups.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. I mean, you all look great, but…” Savannah interrupts.
“On the other hand, I love beauty and I respect people that want to work for it, and I do spend money and time on my hair.”
“Cool. Cool. I read that you have a fan club named ‘I’ve Lived’. Based on your song, ‘I’ve Lived Hard and My Face Shows It’. It sounds like the crowds love singing along with that one. Will you perform it at the festival?”
“For sure.”

“Well, like I said, I think it’s cool you’re into looking old. I mean, you know, you don’t look old, but you don’t try to hide your hard lives. That’s cool. I’m almost 21, and people regularly think I’m 15, and that’s not really great for me.”
“Oh, you don’t look 15.”
“Oh, wow. Well, thank you.”

Since he seems too flustered to go on, Savannah says, suddenly serious, “I’m going to tell you something.” She pauses for a moment.
“I’m afraid of flying and I don’t have enough vacation days to drive, so I’m going to see a hypnotherapist. I’m also scared about that, but my band’s paying and I don’t want to admit it to them.”
“You’re gonna see what?”
“Someone that uses hypnosis. But I’m worried it won’t work and my bandmates will be so disappointed, like I’m letting them down.”
“Oh,” David says.

Savannah continues. “Last time I was about to fly, when I was in the aisle of the plane going to my seat, I suddenly felt really lightheaded and had a hard time catching my breath. I couldn’t even lift my bag to the overhead bin. It’s mostly a blur now, but some really impatient guy kind of grabbed it from me and threw it in.”
“Wow, that’s intense,” David says. “So the whole flight you felt like that?”
“I had a strong feeling that something terrible was going to happen. I was just so scared. It was like I was going to die. I was basically frozen in my seat, which I guess is better than screaming.”
“Well, I’m sorry you went through that. I hope your sessions go well. And thank you for telling me. I won’t write about it, of course.”

“Thank you for listening. It helps to tell someone. So what did you want to ask me about?”
“Oh, well, I was gonna ask about your song called ‘Flypaper’. It sounds like the band name is about attracting and then catching people. But the song Flypaper has the lyrics, ‘extricating myself from the flight paper, hoping the filth washes off.’ That seems to be saying something different.”
“You’re right, David. Good catch. I was in a relationship where I wasn’t told the whole story about the other person’s reality. And that’s what caught me and tortured me. A death by flight paper isn’t quick. It’s horrible. By the way, I don’t support hurting insects.”
“I love your song about insects, too.” David says, “It’s probably my favorite.”

He continues over her thanks. “So this relationship, whose fault was it? Or is that a dumb question?”
“No, it’s a great question. There were some things the other person didn’t disclose that he should have. But there’s also a lot of misunderstanding. Speaking of questions, I could have asked more.”
David laughs and then says thoughtfully. “So you prefer relationships where you are told everything right off?” Savannah nods.
David says, “I wish I could come get you, but I don’t have a car.”
Savannah stares at him for a moment in surprise. “Oh, well, thank you for the thought.”
“Sorry, I just remembered you said you don’t have time to drive. Well, I’d better go now.” He says in embarrassment. After he abruptly ends the meeting, Savannah stares at her computer screen for a few minutes, smiling.

Two weeks later, Savannah looks up from her notebook when Jenny, Nastassaya, and Min-Ji come into the band’s rehearsal basement. She begins to speak quickly in her excitement.
“Hey, I’m working on a new song about finding meaning. I have a melody in my head, but I’m not sure it’s right.” She hums a few bars. “It’s about how we grew up learning the world is made of separate things. So we go around trying to find meaning as if it were a thing. But that doesn’t work since it’s not a thing. And I heard this cool comparison between meaning and gravity. Gravity isn’t something separate. It’s something that happens between things and so is meaning. Meaning exists between us and other people, between us and other parts of ourselves, between us and our connections with nature. And the goal is that by the end, the audience is feeling connections which are meaning.”
“Whoa, that sounds great, Min-Ji says.
Jenny nods. “I love the idea of creating a somatic experience for the audience, linking the words to the music to their bodies.”
“Me too,” Savannah says. “It needs some work and maybe we can play around with the melody after we practice our festival lineup.”

“But how was your first hypnotherapy session?” Jenny asks.
“Oh, it was great. That’s why I was writing this song, actually. Hypnotherapy is a somatic experience too. Anyway, in my next session, we’re going to work on my anticipatory anxiety.” “What’s that?” Zazzy asks.
“It’s what I’m nervous about before I even get on the plane.”
“Like nervous about being nervous?”
“Yes. I never heard of it before today either. But it’s basically whatever now seems stressful because of the fear.”
“Do you think you’ll be ready for the trip?” Jenny asks.
“Eight weeks until takeoff.” Savannah says cheerily. Jenny and Min-Ji smile at each other in relief.

Karisha: Just wanted to give a shout out to the wonderful hypnotherapist and instructor Elaine Perliss. She gave us our more advanced training in fears and phobias. And also to psychologist and researcher Glenn Hartelius, whose description of meaning at a discussion I attended recently became part of Savannah’s song. I feel like a lot of the things he says sound very poetic and calming. So he inspired that.

Savannah is at her favorite salon having red highlights put into her long hair when she overhears a man talking about the delays on his recent flight.
“We sat on the plane for two hours before I took off,” he complains. Savannah wants to plug her ears and hum to prevent herself from hearing anymore. Instead, for the next 10 minutes, she listens to him complain about all the discomforts he suffered.

At her second hypnotherapy appointment three days later, she announces that flying is a truly ridiculous thing to do. And trying to get over her fear seems like a really bad idea.
“Oh, did you come up with another way to get to the festival?” Her hypnotherapist Reina Ibarra asks.
“No,” Savannah says. “I still have to either quit my job and drive or not go.”
“Which of those would you rather do?” Savannah slumps down in her chair.
“Neither. I just want to magically be there and then magically be home.”
“That would be the best way to travel.” Reina agrees.

“So maybe you could see if your job would let you take time off. I know you said it wouldn’t, but it might be worth asking before you just quit, right?”
Savannah nods.
“And then you could drive to the festival, perform, drive home.”
“Yeah,” Savannah says unenthusiastically.
“Do you think there will be another time when this might come up again?” Reina asks. Savannah sighs. “Well, one of my biggest dreams is to go to Egypt.” They sit in silence for a few moments. Savannah sighs again.
“I guess sitting on the plane for two extra hours like that whiny guy in the hair salon wouldn’t be that bad if I felt calm and had something good to read.”

Karisha: Savannah jumping right to the fact that she’ll need to quit her job because she has no more vacation time instead of considering that, you know, asking is worthwhile, is an example of the kind of rigid thinking or uncreative thinking that we get caught up in when we’re really afraid, really anxious or stressed, any kind of negative emotions going on. And so it might seem silly that she didn’t even mention that as an option. But you become really black and white and you’re thinking in these kind of situations. So it’s one of the reasons it’s helpful to talk to someone else to get another perspective.

Makiko: That is true. We do tend to sort of assume things instead of actually confirming or checking. And often, things turn out better than you expect. So it’s always worth trying. But we do kind of get stuck in that mindset very easily.

Karisha: This isn’t a tendency we just have in fear state. It’s just any kind of negative state. Exactly.

A week later, David texts Savannah to say he forgot a few questions. And she agrees to do another video call with him.
“Have you had a hypnosis session?” He asks eagerly as soon as they begin.
“I’ve had two.”
“What were they like?”
“Well, for my second one, I figured out when I start getting anxious about flying, which is at the thought of packing for the trip. And I got to a good place with packing, which I proved by packing everything the next day. Of course, I’ve been living out of my suitcase ever since.”

David laughs. “So it’s working. I was wondering about the flight you got scared on. Was there turbulence or something?”
“No. And I had no idea why it happened when I’d flown many other times without a problem. But I only had a banana and coffee before I left. And my hypnotherapist was telling me that when someone’s blood sugar level drops, it can feel like anxiety or worse. And I was also exhausted and in a hurry and all of that typical travel stuff.”

“Interesting,” David says. “Hey, thank you for meeting with me again. I was just wondering about your song, ‘Gold Foil Utopia.’ It sounds like you’re saying stories that are too idealistic don’t attract people. It seems related to your band name.”
“Good catch.” Savannah says again. “That’s also inspired by the book. I’ve never had my lyrics observed this closely as far as I know. And I love it. My ego is expanding by the second.”

David laughs again. “Well, I’m happy to be the first. The first of many, I’m sure.”
“Thanks, David. Do you have all the band info you need?”
“Let me see.” David says. “Is this all correct? You are the songwriter, lead singer, and you play guitar. Jenny’s on drums. Min-Ji ‘s the lead guitarist. Zazzy’s on bass. Nastassya’s on keyboard. And everyone does vocals.”
“You got it. Hey, thank you for the interview, David. I’ve got to leave for work in a minute. Have we covered everything you wanted?”
“Yes, thank you so much. I’ll be looking forward to your performance.”
“Be sure to come up and say hi, Savannah says.
“I will.”

Two weeks later, when the band is eating a snack after practice, Nastassya asks.
“So, how have your appointments been going? Sorry, I was trying so hard not to ask.”
“Well, you are all paying for the sessions.” Savannah begins, but Nastassya interrupts.
“You don’t owe us anything based on that, seriously. It’s a gift.”
“But we are nervous about the festival,” Jenny says.
“I don’t mind talking about the sessions,” Savannah says. “They’re fun. In my third one, well, this might seem strange to you, but there are a lot of things before getting on the plane that I felt nervous about, and one was even setting my alarm to get up for the flight. Then another was riding to the airport with you all, parking and walking into the airport. So, we desensitized all of that. Then the last one so far, which was yesterday, we worked on all the way up to the boarding, and I still have four weeks left before the trip.”
“Five weeks,” Jenny says.
“Even better.”

“So, how does that work?” Zazzy asks. “It sounds kind of scary.”
“It sounds the opposite of scary.” Min-Ji protests.
“Desensitization?” Savannah asks. “Oh, it’s really calming. I have a relaxing place in my imagination. For me, it’s in the mountains with a beautiful sparkly blue stream and tall evergreens and sunshine and flowers, and whenever I start to feel anxious, we go back there, and I calm down, and then we proceed with whatever we are working on until no anxiety or fear or anything bad comes up.”
“I love that,” Min-Ji says.
Savannah stands and stretches. “Next practice, let’s do a run-through of our entire festival set without stopping, okay?”

Four weeks later, Savannah announces that she’s finished her hypnotherapy sessions and is no longer afraid of flying. The rest of the band applauds, and she twirls around the room, taking bows.
“I feel so free,” she says.
“Did boarding take more than one session?”
“No, that was just one, but then getting to my seat took one because that’s when I started feeling anxious the last time I flew. Then I got to my seat and threw the whole flight in one session, and then we did one more session to reinforce it all, and so I could have a recording to listen to anytime.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Min-Ji says.

When it’s time to leave for the festival, Savannah has repacked with ease, chosen a book that will last through a long delay, and eaten healthily. As they board the plane, her bandmates check on her regularly and are reassured that she doesn’t seem to be hiding any worries. During the flight, Savannah dozes off, her head down on the tray in front of her, which makes her neck hurt.
“I hate these seats,” she tells Nastassya. “But I’m so relieved to not feel scared.”

David, the reporter that interviewed Savannah, signed up as a festival volunteer and got himself appointed to the greeting committee. He’s grown a mustache and goatee, and Savannah suspects he’s trying to look older, which he does.
“How was the flight?” he asks Savannah after introducing himself to the other band members.
“Super uncomfortable but not at all frightening,” she says.
“That’s great!” He drives them to their hotel, where they have two nice rooms, and then promises to pick them up before their first performance the next evening.

“You’ve got to ask him out for lunch tomorrow—or something,” Nastassya tells Savannah once he’s gone. “He has such a crush on you.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Savannah admits with a smile.

The band performs in an open outdoor tent on a blocked off street in the middle of town. The audience inside the tent area already has high energy from the opening act, a popular local hip hop group, and this carries over into the Flypaper’s performance. They end their final set with their crowd pleaser “I’ve Lived Hard and My Face Shows it,” and even though most attendees haven’t heard it before, it sounds like almost everyone joins in enthusiastically with the simple chorus.

The band waves thank yous to the audience and heads to the back of the outdoor stage. David greets them excitedly, saying, “They want an encore!”
The Flypapers have never played at the type of venue nor for the kind of audience that requests encores, and their energy soars.
“Let’s dedicate this one to your hypnotherapist!” Min-Ji shouts as they run back on stage.

Thank you for joining us in Sunnyside!

Would you like to support our show? Why, thanks! Listen and follow on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or your favorite app.

Thank you to High Street Jack for our theme song, and thank you, Makiko, for doing all the post-production work!

Thank you, Karisha, for writing our stories.