I put on the suit and harness, walked out to the plane, and watched the ground disappear as the plane rose. I hadn’t wanted to. I’m not a thrill seeker. We were celebrating the very special woman who orchestrated my cancer survival so I did what I was told.
They opened the door and I took deep breaths of the fresh air. I felt tears. This, my mind’s voice reassured, was not nearly as scary as the last 12 months. But, the sensation felt familiar.
The feeling of powerlessness and anxious anticipation, not knowing what will happen but doing it anyway, is commonplace to me now. This isn’t like the old me. I used to be in control and preferred it that way. I’ve changed.
Fear is apparently relative. I’ve already done something incredibly scary, perhaps the most scary thing I’ll ever do. Nothing can scare me more. Not standing in front of an audience with no pants, not spiders or sharks, not even skydiving.
The night before wasn’t sleepless. I felt oddly calm before and during my jump, even during the free fall. I didn’t scream or close my eyes. I’m so glad I didn’t let the fear ruin it for me. I looked around and it was beautiful. I let go and it felt okay. It is a good lesson for all of us.
And at the end I hugged my people. Will Smith was right…the best things in life come after the maximum fear.
