Amatuer Cliff Diver

The knee-high knit socks and rubbery shoes were anything but a fashionista’s dream. My flip flops would be useless in the rushing water, the tour guide noted, pointing down at my bedazzled sandals. Although I doubted this wisdom, I was in no position to argue. I quickly handed a couple of dollar bills into a boy’s hands as he went to find me a helmet. Money well spent, a fellow jumper whispered. Peeling off my over-sized sweatshirt to shimmy into an already-wet life jacket, I recounted the reasons I had signed up for cliff jumping in the first place. Although my spirit was adventurous, I did have a strong inclination towards avoiding injury. As I stared up at the rope threaded along a narrow cliff path, avoiding injury now seemed unlikely. Despite being surrounded by ten other eager jumpers, this was the most independent of all activities. No buddy system was going to help me mid-air. I clung to the interlaced twine as I dangled on the edge of the cliff. I watched those before me as they leaped off the rocks while I counted the seconds until I heard them make contact with the water below. I replayed their instructions again and again like an old movie reel that gets stuck right before the ending. Toes together, legs straight, hold your breath before you hit the water. The directions suddenly became overwhelming and unclear. I took a step back, as if buying time would somehow make this jump easier. After one final breath, my heart beat double time as I raced past branches and vines and quickly felt my body become submerged. I abandoned all instructions to swim upwards and felt my body gradually rise back towards the surface on its own. It was a mixed sensation, adrenaline pumping, but a calmness washing over me. I drifted towards the edge of the narrow, yet deep pool. As I pulled myself onto the edge of the deep pool that now flooded over the river banks, I smiled up at the guide. So, where’s the next jump? There were no pictures, no videos to replay to somehow solidify my audacity.The moment I left the solid rock below me I realized that a passive journey was not enough, I needed to identify the very things that held me back in order to become the adventurer I dreamed of. Traveling was not simply a means to see more or to sit back and observe. Traveling was the act of destroying my own demons and learning how to approach all aspects of life with such ferocity. Fear is a natural response, succumbing to it was a choice I was not willing to make.