The Cord with No Slack

I’ve had this frequent thought of jumping off a bridge. Well, more like leaning forward, letting go, and falling.

I don’t know where I am in the world or how I got there but, I always see myself in the same place -- holding onto metal guardrails, chest pointed to the sky, eyes taking in the world around me, and toes wiggling over the edge while my heels are still firm on the pavement.

My palms sweat; I feel my pulse race in every inch of my body. I look down and lose my sense of balance. The wind suffocates me as it blows up through the valley, like if there were a giant creature at the bottom waiting, letting out a big breath, warning me of its presence. I have no shame in saying -- I’m scared.

350ft.

This suspended man-made bridge, I stand directly in the center of, is 350ft in the air. It’s connecting two opposing mountains, both covered in patches of trees and greenery that reminds me of the sea if the sea were emerald color. The sun is setting, casting a gold light and deep shadows that reveal the depths of the bottom of the rocky ground and its distance from the tips of the trees.

I take another look down, right in the space between my toes and the world that sits so far away. There’s a large river that travels from either the north or the south. I can’t tell, because it’s so still, that from this distance it looks as if nothing could even crack its surface: it makes me feel drunk. I quickly look ahead of me to save myself from thinking too hard and hear a quiet soft voice in my head telling me to just – “let go.”

Thoughts of doubt and fear rush through my mind in a wave.

“Did I lose my mind or what would happen if…”

Before these feelings overwhelm and consume me, that same voice whispers again -- “let go.”

I release the grips of my fingertips on the guardrail and with my palms take a small push forward almost like something external briefly took over me. In slow motion, I feel my body move like the hands of a clock ticking quickly from one to three. At four, I am frozen in time with my arms stretched as if I am a bird learning to fly. At five, I feel the balls of my feet lose the sensation of the pavement, and at six, I plummet straight down.

25ft – 50ft.

I lose my breath as the wind rushes against me: reminding me that I won’t be slowing down. My eyes are clenched shut as I grit my teeth and regret settles in. Why would I let go? All I can think about is what waits for me when I meet the river sitting at the bottom. My body is stiff from this imminent threat.

100ft -150ft

At some point, I become used to the feeling of vertigo, and I open my eyes. I’m still accelerating but for some reason, I don’t feel it. Instead, I feel as if I’m frozen, and my thought process shifts into a place of peace: solace in knowing there’s nothing I can do.

150 -200ft

How long have I been falling 5 seconds -- 10? I don’t know, I lose my sense of time and stare at the world that seemed so far away when I was standing at the top. I see little waves hitting against the rocks of the river and I can now tell that it’s traveling to the north of me. I only know there’s a breeze blowing because it makes the leaves from the trees shake in a way that it looks like they’re cheering me on.

250 -275ft.

My heart sinks and I clench my eyes once more. I’m knocking on death’s door as I get closer and closer towards the bottom.

300ft.

I hold my breath and brace myself for impact.

For a microsecond, I don’t feel fear, regret, but instead freedom; my body relaxes.

My body slows down and stops for just a moment and I’m suddenly thrown back into the air by bungee cords attached to my waist and feet. The bungee cords yoyo me up and down and it takes a moment for my heart to catch up. I feel like my body is an accordion playing some ominous chord and my emotions go back and forth through the corners of my mind like a game of ping pong.

Why would I ever want to jump off a bridge?

Well, I figure, the moment I can truly allow myself to fall, what else would there to be afraid of?

I feel like the cord with no slack: tight, with no room to expand and stretch. Anxiety about people, work, money, or if I am someone of importance. Not living life how I dreamed due to fear of acceptance, opinions, or how I’m perceived.

I close myself off – my talents, my heart’s desires -- over what will only matter to me for a moment in time. We make permanent decisions based off temporary emotions. What if we let it all go and truly decided to be free?

Everything is temporary: except yourself. You are the only person you’ll be with for the rest of your life: 100% of the time. Sometimes, we need to be reminded to let go-- to just be. We need to learn to give ourselves slack and not be pulled until we break. We need to trust that there’s some external force that will pull us back into the direction of our destiny.

If we sacrifice who we are and what we need for the sake of staying within the box of normalcy and to appease the people around us , we’ll never really know what it means to actually live life.

I’m not much of a thrill seeker. Nor do I enjoy the feeling of vertigo, but I imagine that, the moment I decide to truly let go of my fear of falling—of failing; I’ll know what it means to truly be alive.