And just like that, she flew the nest. My baby. The plane I loved. The one I learnt to fly in. The one I felt completely at one with.
“It’s just an aeroplane, for heaven’s sake!” said a fellow pilot. “Nothing special. You have flown others.”
But India Alpha was special, certainly to me. There is a level of confidence you get knowing just what to expect from your aircraft, how it will respond. A bond of you and me against the world.
There was not even the chance of a last goodbye, a farewell flight. It all happened so suddenly.
If you thought the empty nest syndrome was only for children leaving home, think again.
It’s all about feeling safe in a situation and not wanting it to change. But children – and planes – move on, as they should. Yes, they leave you bereft, wondering what you will do with the vacuum they used to fill, sad at not having them around. Then it’s up to you to let those emotions come to the surface, feel them, and let go of them, moving on to another phase of life.
We naturally want to keep to the status quo and most of us resist the single certainty in life – change.
It always amazes me how flying keeps giving me situations that challenge me and offer opportunities for growth – uncomfortable as they are. That’s probably why I keep on flying even though I have a something of a love/hate relationship with it. It is always about change, and I know I resist that, but at the same time, I’m drawn to it.
I have known for some time that India Alpha had to go. It made logical sense, even though emotionally it brought up feelings in me of intense panic. What if it meant I never flew again? How much of my flying was linked to being at ease in this one plane? Did I really want all the upheaval and challenge of learning the delicate intricacies of a new plane?
Logic triumphed, as it usually does in my husband’s world. He has spent three years building a plane that was now nearly ready to fly. I couldn’t deny him that chance of enjoying the fruits of his labour. In many ways I was pleased there was no real opportunity to say goodbye, to get tearful and miserable. I had to spend my energies cleaning up the plane, finally getting rid of the last traces of the mud ingrained from my home airfield. Then I spent my nights wondering if the wind and rain were getting at it now that it was no longer in our hangar. By the time India Alpha flew off, there was more relief than sadness.
I knew I had to reframe this parting in my own mind. A friend helped: “At least someone else will be loving it and enjoying it. I understand – you have loved and looked after it and it has looked after you too. Don’t be sad, life moves forward. You have wonderful memories xxxxx”. That helped me smile, and decide to remember the fun times I had flying it, instead of regretting all the places we didn’t go. It certainly doesn’t have to be the end of my flying. Instead I can know that India Alpha served me when I needed it, move forward with a positive outlook, and an expectation of a new chapter, with different challenges, and new adventures.
Whatever change you are facing – and at the moment we are in such a global state of flux it’s hard not be a facing a change – take a moment to acknowledge the past and then look forward to what the future holds. And smile, even as you wipe that tear away!
Reframe Coaching 