Being and Becoming: The Art of Transformation and Inner Renewal for Aviation Professionals

“Non est gloriosa victoria, nisi ubi ruerint laboriosa certamina.” (There is no glorious victory unless where difficult struggles have occurred.) Henricus Nollius

Beneath the surface, many carry a persistent pressure that looks nothing like their steady exterior and calm, composed professional demeanor. It arrives quietly, like an unexpected visitor in the night as a form of restlessness even when everything else indicates there's no reason to be uneasy. A suffocating quiet sensation of overwhelm arrives and lingers without explanation. These are the unseen currents below the surface, the unseen forces that work without cease in the unconscious psychological processes that are quietly governing you and your system in ways that you cannot fully understand. It is the algorithms of our mind that were formed from the moment you were conceived to your current mind. 

With the aviation industry changing at a pace that presses on the inner life of its people, this edition of The Flyer is aimed at helping you understand a little about the procedure of the inner work: how professionals can meet external change without losing the integrity of the self. It seems that Carl Jung and some of the older philosophers throughout history offer some insights into what this is and how we can push through it. 

If we look for a model of sustained transformation that speaks both to practice and psyche, there is an unlikely but potentially useful place to turn - alchemy. Its interesting because those same philosophers would marvel, I'm sure, at the way the great modern aircraft use energy transformations to create lift and flight - just like the flight of their mythical Phoenix, except real. Read figuratively, their philosophical stages map well onto the inner work a professional must do to transmute pressure into meaning. There may just be some useful insights and knowledge to be had there, and hence I decided to study it a bit more and here is what I found. It is a kind of framework that explains the stages through which one passes when going through periods of inner change. 

The process begins with The Magnet, what the alchemists called raw Antimony Ore, the alchemist’s recognition of the raw material. This is your professional self in its current state, a mix of valuable skill and accumulated impurities like burnout, cynicism, or frustrations, discord, and anger. This is merely the raw material, full of potential but buried under the stress of the job. A first step to this inner work is to acknowledge this state without judgment. It is not a failure; it is the ore from which you will forge your future. Many of the greatest musicians and artists throughout history have often derived their greatest and most beautiful works out of the raw material of difficulties, depression, dark periods of their life and struggles. It was during those periods that they used the raw materials to construct the greatest albums and works we know today. It is also how the aviation industry has learned and used its hardest lessons and learnings from the incidents, accidents and disasters of the past. As you go through this article you will find that there is hope, there is possibility even in the most strikingly difficult of circumstances and conditions. In fact the more stark the situation, the more potential it has to bring greater future triumph. But one must learn the process to make that happen. 

It begins with an honest inventory, an exercise in self-awareness. There is often a great dissonance between how we see ourselves and how those around us, our partners, colleagues, families, and friends - see us. That's why there are often expressions of surprise on those therapy couches around the world. In practice, this means naming what you actually feel, not what you think you should feel. There is courage in this simplicity. As Carl Jung said, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” To make darkness conscious is to take stock of fatigue, irritation, pride, joy, and aspiration equally, and to see how these states influence decisions on the flight deck, cabin, airports, on the ground, in the hangar, and in leadership meetings.

That inventory is the equivalent of a pre-flight check for the psyche. It does not require therapy as a first step, but it does require attention. Note where your energy is spent. Notice when your patience shortens. It’s a simple set of steps to gain some self-perspective and self-awareness. Start a simple log, three minutes at the end of a shift to note what felt enlivening, what felt draining. Over weeks, patterns will appear.

The core self is what remains once you’ve stripped away the most obvious impurities. It’s forged through discipline and effort, what the old philosophers symbolized as Iron/Mars, the process that separates your true will from your automatic, reactive habits. These are the habits that make us easily triggered and impulsive, even when we try not to be. This is where training programs like Crew Resource Management help condition out character traits such as irritability and judgmental tendencies, transforming them into habits of cooperation, collaboration, and more positive interpersonal responses. At this stage, the self is strong and focused, but still somewhat rigid, like polished metal: refined, yet inflexible.

Then comes what was called the Philosophical Mercury, the fluid, adaptable intelligence within you. It’s the part that can observe your thoughts and emotions without judgment, flow around obstacles, and gently loosen old patterns. It is pure awareness, the same quality referenced in a previous article about Elmer Gates and the gap between thoughts.

What we might call Vulgar Gold represents vain worldly success and the endless pursuit of validation, the things that glitter but never satisfy for long. It may look like happiness, but it’s hollow, inert, and fleeting. Many artists and public figures have spoken about this over the years; actor Jim Carrey, for example, has reflected openly on it.

Yet beneath all this lies our True Gold, the hidden seed of your highest potential. It’s your unique gift, your purpose, your soul’s true desire. It’s there, waiting, dormant until awakened. The Amalgam or fusion or combining begins when you bring conscious awareness, what the ancients called Mercury - to that inner gold. It’s the moment you start aligning your awareness with your deeper purpose. That’s the real beginning of the Great Work on yourself, your very own Magnum Opus. True happiness and fulfillment arise when we find and pursue what brings genuine meaning and purpose to our lives, not merely material gain or the often vulgar outward displays of so-called success. 

The next element is containment, the sealed vessel, of the alchemist. Insist on brief, untouchable pauses after a difficult operation. Keep one ritual, an end-of-shift debrief, a short walk, a five-minute breathing practice, that is non-negotiable. These small acts are the boundaries that allow interior reorganization to happen without being consumed by the day’s noise. It is the moment when one goes into the inner chamber and closes the door to outside distractions. This means putting away cell phones, stepping away from social media, and going to a quiet place to enter your inner chamber. You see, creative artists often go away into the wilderness or somewhere far from distractions precisely because they can quietly go into the inner mind of serenity. This serenity is key, you need to learn to take time to relax. Too much tension in your system leaves you deaf to the inner whispers. This is where meditation and inner reflection take place and are important, because all that comes to you is from within. Even how you experience life and your sense of meaning and belief comes from within. Therefore, the natural place to find insights is within. Think of it as In-Sight, sight inside, looking within your heart. The secret place of the heart is within yourself. Go within and make sure to dedicate time to relaxation and introspection. I explained some useful methods on introspection in the article relating to Elmer Gates' work.

Then comes the steady heat, which simply put is disciplined practice. Alchemy’s furnace is about patience and resilience, and you can introduce these in a disciplined fashion into your daily routines and practice.

Within this vessel or your inner chamber, you must apply The Athanor’s Fire. This isn’t a raging inferno, but the gentle, consistent heat of daily effort. It is the focused attention you bring to a challenging sim session, the patience required to mentor a new hire, the perseverance to troubleshoot a persistent technical log entry. This is the unwavering dedication that, over time, creates real change.

It's the implementation and constant improvement on your standard operating procedures. It is the slow burn that builds reliability. The heat is essentially what drives you. Reflect on what your own interests and motivations are. The heat is your desire and your emotional enthusiasm for what you do. Too much and you can become ridiculous—a nauseating annoyance to your colleagues, an unrecognized venture into folly or seeming inauthenticity. Too little and you have no enthusiasm or become lazy; it manifests in inaction and procrastination. Think of the alchemist’s heat as your energy level—the steam that drives the engine and your actions. It is the idea filled with desire that sparks those motor neurons in action and passes the threshold into something that moves and inspires you. The balance is important, like salt on food: just the right amount is essential. Too much salt and the meal is ruined; too little and it’s ineffective. Just the right amount. Knowing what that level is requires a certain amount of humbleness and wisdom.

Inevitably, the process reaches a point Jung and the alchemists both described as a dark night of disintegration. In alchemical terms, this is the Nigredo, the blackening, the inevitable putrefaction, the Dark Night of the Soul. Psychologically, it can be experienced as doubt, anxiety, or a sense that the professional identity that once fit now feels taut and inadequate. This is where many of us quietly find ourselves at certain points in life or in our careers. It's those moments of stagnation, lack of progress, a long winter of halted movement. You may be passed over for promotions; there may be layoffs. It is the winter in the seasons and cycles of aviation. We must have protective mental skills to weather it. The old certainties about your career and your abilities dissolve into a black mess of fear and frustration. This is not a sign you are on the wrong path. Alchemically, it is a necessary death of the old self, the breakdown before the breakthrough. This is a key part of transformation. It is about letting go. If you are holding on too tightly, you must relax your grip, trust in yourself, and let go. This part is painful at times, disconcerting, but absolutely necessary, as necessary as the sunset brings dusk and eventually dawn. Even on the physical level, military pilots understand the importance of relaxation when it comes to precision operations. For example, during air-to-air refueling, they know that Pilot Induced Oscillations (PIO) can occur from holding the controls too tightly. An overly tense or white-knuckle grip can actually cause unintended movements. The key is to relax, wiggle the fingers and toes, release the tension, and allow the body to settle. This relaxed state leads to smoother control and the desired outcome and the same goes for the internal state. 

Over the years, in different work environments, I’ve seen this in colleagues who are outwardly extraordinarily competent yet inwardly taxed to a surprising degree -struggling in silence. We imagine they are fine because their exterior is the image of command, but beneath that façade is a complicated interior situation.

To give an example, I share an anecdote from my time at airport flight operations. I recall an incident on the ramp at Dublin Airport that made this concept tangible. A Boeing 767 drew up to stand; and the engines exhaled that familiar spool-down sound signaling, “Another job and cycle complete.” Then, as I stood there on that cold winter morning, a spiderweb crack appeared across the cockpit windscreen. With passengers queued and time pressing, the ever-reliable cavalry arrived to assist. Tech Ops swirled in with their vehicle and began assessment. Their arrival always marked reassurance for me, and their calm, professional competence was the backbone of our operational assurance. One engineer I had always admired for his composure stepped into the cockpit with that quiet confidence we had come to rely on. We began troubleshooting and arranging logistics to get a replacement window flown from Paris to Dublin.

As we worked, I commented on how reassuring his presence was. He paused, leaned over the central console, and said with measured clarity, “It may look that way, brother. But I experience a lot of stress and anxiety. I just don’t let it take control, but it’s a constant struggle.” I was completely taken aback. I had no idea that this extraordinarily charismatic and composed individual struggled privately too. It seemed to me that anyone with a nervous system and a heartbeat must go through this to greater or lesser degrees. That morning on that aircraft, I realized he was not exceptional in experiencing anxiety; he was exceptional in his relationship with it. His steadiness was practice, an integrated habit, not the absence of inner struggle. He was managing his inner strife with the same skill he would finely tune those jet engines. Yet, I suspect he needed as much support as the rest of us. It made me think of those in leadership positions or operational fronts, commercial or military. The difference that makes the difference is the inner work, transmuting fear and anxiety into focused, useful energy for completing the mission.

An insight I had is that unresolved objectives in our inner system persist until they meet the purpose for which they were conceived. They are self-perpetuating micro-winds that blow through our internal weather system, seeking fulfillment. Psychotherapy often guides patients to recognize this: unresolved inner issues come into the light of consciousness, allowing them to fulfill their purpose. It is a bit like a photon traveling since the universe’s conception until it enters your eye, it has fulfilled its purpose. Desire is the want for fulfillment, and it is fundamental to human experience.

That moment mattered because it made explicit what we too often keep invisible. As Jung warned, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” Our unexamined anxieties and residues of early conditioning will steer us unless we claim a relationship to them.

The Dawning of a New Day, the transformation has begun.

From this darkness, The Peacock’s Tail emerges. These are the glimmers of insight, the sudden clarity on a long-standing problem, unexpected camaraderie with your crew, rediscovering wonder. These moments of beauty remind you of the spectrum of possibilities that still exist. It's the sudden shimmer after the blackening: a new solution in a team debrief, a leadership choice that reframes an operational impasse, a simple practice that steadies nerves before a critical briefing. The clouds begin to clear, and you emerge renewed, bursting with energy and ideas. However, I urge a word of caution here. Though you may feel tempted to flaunt your newfound insights, like a peacock unfurling its iridescent plumage, true wisdom lies in restraint. Let your intellect sharpen and your wit refine, but move through the world with thoughtfulness, kindness, and generosity. For without humility, even a gift can weigh like a burden. One of the best examples I can think of is the actor Anthony Hopkins. He has faced his own dark nights of the soul and struggled with addiction, yet he has moved far beyond those challenges to master both the art of acting and the art of life. Watch him closely, and you will see a true master at work. And yet, he remains immeasurably humble and approachable, graceful, thoughtful, and imparting his knowledge with restraint and intuition, never forcing his insights on anyone. He can display the feathers of wisdom without strutting like a peacock. He is like the colonel or leader in any field who takes the extra time to genuinely acknowledge the contributions of his colleagues in the operations, doing so with sincerity and presence.

What follows is integration that is both human and practical. Frustration, fear, anger, and conflict dissipate; empathy deepens; safety and self-awareness improve; vulnerability builds trust. An engineer who acknowledges stress asks for help before fatigue causes errors. A captain who admits uncertainty models a culture where questions are learning opportunities, not marks of weakness. Flight crews may find enlightenment in peer support sessions, a key stage in insight and renewal.

Next comes Whitening (Albedo), a state of purification and clarity. Emotional noise subsides; calm, professional neutrality emerges. You shed reactive habits and emotional baggage, seeing your role, aircraft, and colleagues with new eyes. You have reached the White Stone, executing duties with precision and grace.

This is not the end. Next is what the ancient philosophers called the Green Stage (Venus), the return of life, compassion, and generative energy. A disengaged captain rediscovers the joy of teaching; an engineer approaches each repair with renewed care; a manager leads with empathy. This is steady, sustained love for craft and people- a philosophy of flight and professional fulfillment.

Finally, what is known as Reddening (Rubedo), which in its simplest terms is integration and mastery, what the ancients called the Red Stone. Technical skill merges with purpose and presence, you become a wholly more integrated personality. It is how the leadership for the next generation emerges. Innovation, achievement, and attention to detail flourish for the person who has learned to integrate he various aspects of the nature. This manifests in you as a kind of authentic, grounded presence - and people will notice it. The professional or individual who reaches this level of development is not untroubled but is more resourceful in facing challenges.

The ultimate stage in this journey of self development is known as The Elixir, the radiating effect of your transformation. Calm, clarity, and wisdom become contagious. Colleagues notice, perhaps without naming it, “There is something different about you. In a good way.” You just become a more complete person and it shows in your interactions and how you handle life. There is a charisma that comes with folks that exhibit this stage of development in their personalities and character. 

The path from feeling lost to becoming an Elixir is one of gradual transformation, not a straight flight plan. It is a way filled with course corrections, errors, and challenges. For those willing to commit to the process- to enter the sealed vessel of discipline and endure the heat, the reward is profound. It is more than a glorious victory; it is a life transformed.

The work promises practical benefit, carrying anxiety without being carried by it, steadying the mind in complexity, and participating fully in the work you love. As Jung said, “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” For aviation professionals, that privilege is doubled: we become ourselves while stewarding the safety of others. That dual responsibility calls for discipline of the inner life as much as of the outer systems we command. It takes us from what Henricus Nollius calls the glorious victory out of difficult struggles. 

Until the next edition,

Best regards,

Noel Cox