In my fourth year of not flying, I keep finding the choice to stop flying one of the best of my life.

I originally challenged myself to go a year without flying, anticipating on day 366 I'd be on a flight since I love traveling. Also I wondered how long I could put off family and work obligations.

But in that year, the things I replaced flying with improved my life more than flying did, so I went for another year. Now I have some lingering sense that I'll fly again, but the interest decreases, particularly as people's claims for the necessity of their flying increasingly sound like justifications for addictions and cravings, beholden to the values of systems they think are universal but aren't.