I used to walk and look at the pavement ahead of me; now I walk along and look at the sky. Why? Because I've got a new life, and it's several thousand feet above Earth's surface. I'm learning to fly.

The first time I got into a small airplane, I jumped out of it about 20 minutes later. I was doing a parachute jump, and when the time to bail came, I was almost relieved because I found the sensation of flying in a small plane so terrifying.

It was no different when I took my first flight as a student pilot earlier this year: I was rigid with fear and left fingernail marks on the control wheel. (A little weird when you consider that you can turn a small plane with your pinky.) Extreme nausea ensued — but it wasn't enough to keep me grounded. I was determined to fly.

You see, when I was young, I would dream about being a pilot. I would practice talking to my imaginary passengers, using a hairbrush as a microphone. But that was part of a series of different career aspirations that included garbage collector and astronaut. So, I'm not one of the many people who feel like they were born to fly. At the age of 25, I decided to try it out because it sounded scary, exciting, and challenging. Flying has far exceeded my expectations!

I'm learning to fly in a Cessna 152. At first I considered this plane as the poor relation of the comfortable jet, but I have now come to regard it as a beloved pet. It's my trusted buddy in the air, and no matter what happens, it won't let me down (at least, not unless I want it to).

The 152 was first built in the 1960s, so it's something of a classic. It's very basic and forgiving of nervous student pilots. The instrument panel is uncomplicated, the plane is easy to control, and the landing gear (the wheels) must be made of resilient material because they take a lot of hard student landings without complaint! For many years now, the 152 has been one of the most popular training planes. See a picture of the 152's instrument panel.

Sadly, Cessna no longer builds the 152, but thousands of them are still in service. I chose the 152 because it was simple to fly and less expensive to rent than its more complicated counterparts, such as the 182 or Skylane.

Learning to fly a plane was a new experience for me. That in itself was quite unnerving, but to be having a totally new experience in a confined space up in the clouds is nothing short of an assault on the senses. You are flooded with so much new stimuli that your nerves can get in the way of digesting what you're learning.

For example, I initially felt very vulnerable. Flying a Cessna is not like flying in a big, comfortable jet. The wind will push you this way and that, so it can feel more bumpy than a rough ocean. The cockpit is much smaller than your average small car, and the single engine sounds like a lawnmower. There doesn't seem to be a whole lot separating you from the air (or from the ground).

Before each flight I felt overwhelmed and couldn't distinguish one gauge from the other. During my third lesson, I tried setting the compass heading on the gauge that is used to set the atmospheric pressure. This is as silly as trying to find out how much gas is left in your car by reading the speedometer. It seemed like the smell of aviation fuel cut the power of my brain cells by half! But in reality, it was a combination of intimidation and exhilaration.

Was my reaction normal? "Actually, it was," says my flight instructor, Jeff Johnson. "I think that at first, a lot of people find being in a small plane disconcerting. Beginners need to test the limits of the airplane so that they can get a true feel for it. A lot of my students have had to deal with airsickness and all-out fear. It passes, and after awhile you can't think of anywhere you'd rather be — no matter how windy it is up there!"

There is a steep learning curve in learning to fly. It's costly, so you need to cram in as much as you can in a short period of time. (Most people get their private pilot's license after about 40 hours of flight time.) It's also high pressure. Because you're in the air from the very start — and controlling the plane from the very start — it means you're in the thick of things, straight away. Says Johnson, "There is a lot to take in. It's important to be prepared and do your homework."

Ah yes, homework. That task I did minimal amounts of in school. In learning to fly, I have learned the importance of paying attention. You can't afford to be complacent or sloppy when flying; you can't afford to make mistakes. If you're up in an airplane on your own, you have to know what you're doing. As a recent article in the magazine Flying said: "Flying is not inherently dangerous, but it is unforgiving." In other words, if you make a grave error, you're going to hit the ground.

So, as a student of aviation, you have a duty to be vigilant, conscientious, and picky. You need to do your homework and make sure you are well rested and well prepared before getting into the airplane. All these measures are easily taken and will help ensure your own safety and the safety of others using the airspace (not to mention unsuspecting people on the ground).