Holding patterns are a maneuver that is practiced, a lot, when you learn to fly an airplane and begin your instrument training. Basically, when you’re flying on instruments, you can’t see the horizon, or the ground- just clouds. So, as aircraft are approaching an airport, they have to be spaced out more than they would, if the pilots’ could see the other airplane, and maintain separation visually. What this frequently leads too, is more airplanes arriving at an airport than can get in, as the rules state that no aircraft can begin their approach until the airplane just in front has landed and is clear of the runway; this is, of course, a very good thing indeed, but it does mean that once in a while you are told to slow down, or, enter a holding pattern.
So, you set your airplane up to make ovals, racetrack patterns in the sky above a particular radio navigation tower. You fly away from the tower for a set period, either timed or in miles, and then turn back to it. When you reach it, you reverse course again, and the pattern is repeated. If you’re lucky, the hold will only last a few minutes; if not, it can be really irritating, because it takes concentration at all times, and yet you’re not making any progress to your goal.
That’s all for the flying lesson, but it makes sense to me, as a pilot, to relate where I am right now, to a holding pattern. I am doing all kinds of things that were inconceivable a couple years ago, and exploring areas of my spiritual and emotional life that would have made me uncomfortable, at best, and insane, at worst, up until early this year. Yet, I still have the strangest feeling of not going anywhere.
Some of that, I’m sure, is related to the feelings I’ve been getting from Lynn, the past few weeks, that she’s pulling away from me again, and that I’m uncertain and unsure of what this means, or how to deal with it. I asked her the other day, and she repeated that she’s not pulling away; but there are still times that my confidence in that is, to put it mildly, strained.
Coupled with some little oddities, like Sunday when I was working on the computers- and suddenly she tells me about using the cam; yet, when I asked her about when it was, last night, it was “Couple days ago.” So, why not tell me a couple of days ago? Then, “I used it with Tom, too, a couple days before that.” Again, how come I don’t know that, then? Each time, it’s been “Well, I was waiting for whatever…” Yet, each time, I re-ask, and she re-promises, to tell me right then. So, how many other times, that I don’t know about? And, would she have said anything, if she wasn’t so obviously fearful that I’d see something on the computer to indicate that she had been camming, and didn’t tell me?
I read a support site now and then, for people who are dealing with stuff like this, and keep encountering people’s stories, that hit home with me. Frequently, they reference timelines, and so very often, it’s two, three, five years to feeling whole again. I hate that, so much- I feel like a whiney kid, but I want to feel happy again, and I want it RIGHT NOW.
So, I’m thinking that if I’m in a holding pattern, maybe the course reversal is due, and I can get back to feeling like progress is being made, and that we’re not traveling on separate airways in different directions. God I sure hope so.