Like any parent, I derive tremendous pride, joy, and love from my 2 wonderful children. My wife, Fran, and I have been blessed to have received a tremendous return on the investment we have made in them. Our children provide us with as many, if not more lessons and inspirations as we've given them.

Our 16-year-old son is determined to become an Air Force pilot. He reads voraciously about aviation and military matters. He has earned a leadership role in his local Civil Air Patrol unit. And, for the past 18 months or so, he has taken flying lessons. In this time, I have spent many hours at our local airport watching Neil as he would thoroughly inspect his plane, taxi it down the runway, and, with his instructor at his side, take off, maneuver, and land the plane.

Neil's instructor, Rich Anderson, is an aspiring commercial pilot who is earning his credentials by studying, practicing on his own, and teaching novices like Neil how to conquer the skies at their own level. He has patiently and calmly taught Neil a system for success, working meticulously with a detailed checklist of things to do before proceeding to the next step in his flight. He has calmly and assuredly guided Neil in the fine art of controlling a single engine, 2-seat aircraft in both favorable and unfavorable flying environments. Neil has reached a point where he can take off and maneuver a plane beautifully without assistance. He's just about got landing mastered, too. His plane responds to his piloting gracefully. He sounds like a seasoned professional on the radio. He knows the theory and practice of basic flying and is rapidly approaching the day when he will fly solo; in fact, he will solo in a Cessna 152 before the law allows him to solo in my Volvo. The depth of my pride, admiration, and respect for my son, the up-and-coming master of aviation, is beyond my ability to articulate.

So, what does all this have to do with comprehensive care, occlusion, splint therapy, and private practice? Everything, of course! The ongoing story of Neil's incredible journey is remarkably similar to my- and, perhaps, your- journey to excellence.

Neil has set his sights on a goal that very few teenagers-or even adults- attain. It is demanding, a bit hazardous (although Neil would tell you otherwise), expensive, and nerve racking. Those of us dedicated to comprehensive care are also setting goals that few of our colleagues aspire to or attain. It is demanding. We need to master skills we learned from some of the finest practitioners we've encountered. It's hazardous. What if we make a mistake? What if patients reject us? What if it takes us years to get to that mystical place called "there"? It's expensive- a week at the Pankey Institute or any other good Continuing Education Center costs a bundle, especially if we factor in our "lost" productive time. And it certainly is nerve racking.

My son has found a mentor in Rich. He is mature, diligent, fraternal, non-threatening and passionate about his work. Rich is also a student, rising within his world towards his goal, being taught by the masters of his field. Good dental mentors are very much the same types of people with the same passion and devotion, looking to learn from master dentists and to help others do the same.

I trust Rich Anderson with the safety of my child. We trust our mentors with our professional progress. Rich has told me that Neil will be an excellent pilot if he continues along his present course. Our mentors have told us the same thing about our dentistry, haven't they?

Neil's progress in flying is remarkably similar to my journey in dentistry. George Leonard, in his book Mastery, tells us that this is no coincidence. To rise within any skill or body of knowledge, Leonard states that it is essential that we find an excellent teacher, surrender to him or her, and practice diligently and frequently.

Those of us who have attended the Pankey Institute have encountered mentors just like Neil's flight instructor In the past 8 years, I have been very lucky to have found several people who have shaped my thinking and guided me in my journey. With their help- and a lot of practice- I have become a dramatically different practitioner than I was in 1994.

But the story doesn't end here. Fully aware of my total awe of his flying, Neil, along with Fran, decided that a lesson with Rich would be a good birthday present for me. Without my knowing, they made me an appointment and broke the news to me on my birthday that I would be going up with Rich the very next day.

To fully appreciate this story, you have to understand that, up until about 6 or 7 years ago, I was a white-knuckled flyer, only taking an airplane when I had no choice, going through tremendous anxiety from up to 24 hours before any trip until landing at my destination I feared bad weather, turbulence, hijackings, mechanical failure, loss of control, death, and dismemberment. I truly pitied Fran on days before we were to fly anywhere- she heard it all from me and it was not fun! Now, the day after my 49th birthday, I was going to take the final step in conquering the fear I had known for most of my life.

I met Rich at the airport at 10AM. We went over a bit of flying theory and proceeded to meticulously check the Cessna 152 according to a checklist. The wings, fuselage, and propeller had no dents, cracks, or surface defects. The cables and hinges that connect the moving parts to their control mechanisms in the cockpit were intact. The fuel tanks were full and the fuel was clear with a slight blue tint, indicating no impurities. The tires were inflated and the brake pads looked good. After 20 minutes, we were ready. My moment of conquest had arrived. Master switch on. Headsets plugged in and operative. Power up. Propeller turning and we roll to one final stop near the runway. Run up the engine for one final check. Look left, look right, look up, and look ahead (there's no control tower at Allaire Airport!). Rich radioed the mandatory pre-flight words "Allaire traffic, Cessna 152 Five-Zero Bravo departing ". Before I knew it, Rich guided us up on a smooth takeoff. To my total amazement, I had no fear whatsoever. The view of Southern Monmouth County from 2000 feet was magnificent.

Then it happened- no more than 30 seconds after takeoff, Rich uttered the dreaded words- "OK, turn right". I felt the sweat on my forehead and very timidly and tentatively turned the yoke to the right. The plane responded weakly. I sweated some more. With Rich's help, we eventually turned right and flew to an area of low air traffic. And then the even more dreaded words "OK, Alan, your plane. Go that way". Sure enough, I went that way, learning to use the rudder, struggling to keep the plane's nose straight, and enjoying the view. Rich had me turn left and right, going here and there. I got better and better at it. I learned to keep the nose of the 152 level as I maneuvered in the sky. Along with my total delight with myself, I felt my back neck, arms, and legs stiff and tight. I was not at ease, to say the least; however, I was having fun learning what I thought I could never, ever do. We landed, or should I say Rich landed about 40 minutes later.

I am sitting here writing this just a few hours after my experience, enthralled, exhilarated, and triumphant. I have conquered my demon, but not alone. I trusted Rich. He guided me. I listened carefully. It was not easy, but it worked. Rest assured I'm going to do it again. I'll work with him at my own pace and will do more and more with that Cessna 152. I'll approach it meticulously, thoroughly, and cautiously but with no fear.

As I reflect on this whole thing, the similarities between the conquest of my fear and my journey in dentistry are striking.

In 1994, I arrived at the Pankey Institute to take C-I. At the time, I wanted to rise to a level of excellence I had seen and admired in others but never thought I could attain myself. I was deeply insecure, feeling trapped in a field that looked like it would be taken over by the insurance industry, leaving me to languish in a mediocre existence. I feared the future almost as much as I feared flying. In retrospect, the Institute, like the Cessna, was the vehicle in which I'd conquer the beast.

At C-I, our new mentors showed 24 of us the philosophical and technical first steps in rising to the top. The principles and techniques we learned looked and sounded great. For me, they were the right things to do; however, I was scared. I feared failure, poverty, rejection, and embarrassment. I remember my first attempt at a bite splint after C-1. It was something like my first turn in the Cessna. Come to think of it, so were my first comprehensive examinations and case presentations. With experience and guidance, they got better- and they worked! In C-I, I found my mentors, surrendered to them, and practiced. Since then, I have met many wonderful mentors in my journey and I'm following Leonard's steps to mastery. It's not easy, but it's working. I'll continue to approach my skills, both new and old, like Neil approaches his flying- meticulously, thoroughly, and cautiously, but with no fear. I have climbed to new heights and will continue to do so for the rest of my career.

There's one more element of this story to share. If you remember, Rich the flight instructor is a student as well as a mentor. He is rising within his field. I have been approached by several colleagues who have asked me either to help them individually or to talk to them as a group about the lessons I've learned. I find myself in the previously unimaginable position of being a mentor to others. I teach and I learn; I give and I take with my colleagues, my mentors, my clients, and, of course, my wife and children.

The steps in the journey to mastery are universal. We follow them at our own pace, in our own ways, rising to the level we seek. Our inspirations come from many places- even from our children! We merely need to seek our conquest, follow the principles, and, pardon the pun, the sky's the limit. Dr. Pankey used to quote Napoleon Hill "Whatever ye desire, o discontented man, just step up, pay the price, and take it". In my career and now in my new conquest, those words continue to ring true.

Allaire traffic, Cessna 152 Five Zero Bravo at 2000 feet and climbing. The view is great up here!