Forever Free

It exists in a few places, for those who know where to look. In the dusty, long forgotten corners of an unsuspecting hard-drive, and hidden deep within the code of some inactive social media account, lies a single, simple photo file. To the uninformed observer, this image would be of little interest. With a slightly closer look, however, a certain truth yearns to be known.

Notice the wispy, windswept hair on the clearly sunny Summer’s day. Notice the thick black harness and consider the serious expressions that must have been held by the thin, standing crowd. But most importantly, notice the broad smile, irrationally spread wide across the pale, sickly white face of the young girl kneeling in the open field. Why would someone so clearly unwell in this moment emit such waves of pure, unrestricted euphoria?

For my 18th birthday my father bought me a brilliant gift. It was the promise of an experience unlike any I’d ever known - skydiving. It’s safe to say that despite my intense fear of heights, I had always been something of a thrill-seeker, hell bent on enjoying every adrenaline filled moment I could get my hands on. It was this private fear that made roller coasters, bridge climbs and slingshots all the more enjoyable, but this was the ultimate test.

Confident in the knowledge that I had mastered the management of my fear, I was giddy at the prospect of ticking this task off my still extensive bucket list. I was looking forward to transforming my fear once again, at this much larger scale. Conflicting emotions are so much more closely related than most people care to admit. This is absolutely the case when comparing a heightened sense of fear with elation, especially when you teeter towards the fight response of flight, fight, or freeze.

I’ll never forget that nervous energy I felt when I signed the paperwork, clearing the company if anything should go wrong. The same energy that buzzed through my body as the harness was affixed, as I walked, bouncing, towards the tiny, two guest plane, and as we began upon that ever so gradual incline above the Earth’s surface, into the clouds. There would be no net to catch us. I had to trust that the professional I would be strapped to was confident enough in his craft that he would be able to take over and bring us down safely, whether this event went smoothly or not. It was a long way between where we were and the ground. Anything can happen in time and space.

Sitting in the small cabin, I thought back to a story my mother had shared about her skydiving experience. She was all strapped up, waiting for her turn to fly, when two men approached in a quite unexpected manner. One was giddy, laughing and calling out wildly, as he threw his fists in the air over and over. The other was pale, shaky, and barely able to keep his feet as he stumbled forward, the paces between them ever growing.

The first called out to a few of the other divers, “Craziest thing! The shoot wouldn’t open and the safety one was stuck. I had to cut the strap to reach it and was able to rip the cord just in time. I have never been that close before!”

That was my thought before my own experienced, tandem diver stood us up and stepped towards the edge. Without warning, he laughed and stepped us both out of the plane, into the open air. There is no real way to explain the freefall, except perhaps to say the word ‘free’ within it is aptly placed. I have never again felt as free as I did in the time we spent plummeting towards the ground that made for a much firmer target at this velocity.

Before I knew it, this out of body experience was over. The shoot was released with no problem at all and we found ourselves gliding lightly from one side to another, control regained at the pull of a string. With the lightest tug of the two cords in his hands, my diver was able to take us wherever he pleased, within reason. He even handed the reins over to me for a little while. It was nice, relaxing, until the second slightly after I returned the steering strings to his hands.

I felt the heat rise and fall from my face in an all too familiar way. My mind flicked back to the paperwork I’d signed. It had suggested a history of fainting spells would be reason enough to pull someone from the high flying experience and asked if I had a history. I lied. I tried to let my fellow know what was about to happen as the spots clouded my vision. Whether I was successful, or not, I’ll never know.

What I do remember is coming to, collapsed forward over my own knees, my forehead pressed into the cool, soft grass. I took a moment, but the serious tones altered me to the presence of others. The nausea was overwhelming, but not all encompassing. With my eyes still closed I was taken again to the feeling of that freefall and I felt that same rush all over again. When I was finally able to move, I raised myself up, tilted my head back and smiled, unashamedly overjoyed. I was alive, and, more than that, in the space between the earth and the heavens I had felt it

That was the moment in which my truest, most authentic self took the time to shine through, because at my core there is one base desire that holds all the rest of me together...the need to be free and forever feel alive.