Freefalling

Yep.

Uh-huh.

You're right. I went skydiving.

Yes I did.

I wasn't scared or anxious nor did I have butterflies in the pit of my stomach. But in the very slow nanoseconds when I was freefalling, I suddenly knew what life was about. I suddenly understood how I was able to be bigger than the trauma that caught my childhood offguard. I suddenly felt big and small and high and blessed and I surrendered. To gravity. To God. To life.

It was amazing and truly, truly indescribable. And as my partner released the parachute, a lone tear trickled from each eye. I could reason out that it was the cold and air. But it was really me, awed in the face of 'I am who am'.

I was a humbled 'I' in the face of total and complete surrender.

And right before I stepped out onto the ledge, the bf pressed my hand and mouthed 'I love you, baby'. And in the face of such fear, he loved me. And in the face of such love, I could not fear.

NB: On a much lighter note, we did a night tandem jump. My partner told me this was only the 2nd time in 8 and a half years that they'd done it with amateurs. He congratulated me once we were on the ground. And he apologized for having to make us wait (We were supposed to jump at 130 pm, but the wind did not permit it. We finally boarded the biplane at around 615 and jumped around 645pm.), but it was not needed. It was well worth the wait.