You have probably heard people describe it. Many people have it on their bucket list. You’ve even watched countless movies on it, and if you are in the military, you’ve probably even already done it. Skydiving! About a month ago, I fought the hesitation, the fear, that awful stomach sickening sensation you get from falling on a roller coaster, and I fitted a jumpsuit for my first tandem jump. I loved it.

There really isn’t any way I can accurately describe the experience of skydiving. My English and writing skills are a little too poor ( and rough) for the minute details of every thing that was going through my mind when I started questioning my determination 10,000 feet up in the air. Was I really sure I wanted to do this? What could I possibly be thinking about when I agreed to jumping out of a perfectly fine airplane? 30 min ago I was perfectly safe – gravity wise – and had nothing to worry about apart from the chilly first breeze of Fall. Every brain cell, everything I knew about risk taking and safety, every single documentary and report I had ever seen or read about airplane crashes and fatal parachute accidents was coming back to me. Some were real, some not so much. I mean, I had never really seen any documentary about parachute malfunctioning. But somehow, I had a clear memory – or should I say vision – of what chain of events could lead to that type of catastrophe.

Somehow, I managed to keep those thoughts bottled up, and mustered up the courage to walk to the opened door. The earth looked illegally far. And as I stood one step away from the emptiness of the sky, the questions, the doubts, the fear, and even the 120+ beats per minute of my heart gave way to a  very comforting and soothing stillness. I was about to fly – sort of; And inevitably getting hooked on it. Little did I know at that moment, that the most intense and gratifying feeling I could buy with a couple of Benjamins, was just a leap of faith away.

 

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