When I was a little kid, I remember watching cliff divers on TV. ABC’s Wide World of Sports, if I remember correctly.
“That is the coolest thing anyone could ever do! I want to do that!”
The diver stands calm and stoic on the smallest of rock outcroppings. The camera (brilliantly) set up behind and above pans slowly, giving the viewer the perspective of nothing but the sunny, warm air and the blue water seemingly miles below. He closes his eyes, takes a breath, coils slightly, and launches into the great beyond, arms outstretched, body arched, legs together, and toes pointed. Two seconds or two minutes later, he breaks the plane of the beautiful blue water and disappears beneath, leaving no trace that he was ever there. The very definition of majestic.
Well, my 8-year-old self had no idea that my 18+-year-old self would be wildly allergic to heights. Consequently, I’ve never cliff-dived from 60+ feet into the gleaming and warm Pacific like those majestic divers in Acapulco. I have, however, jumped from a 10m diving platform and 20-ish feet from the rocks along one of the local streams running in and around Warren, VT.
In both cases, I was neither calm nor majestic. At the 10m board, I needed a physical push from a friend.
Sometimes it’s gonna be ugly. Sometimes, you’re gonna need a push from a friend. Sometimes, you’re not gonna know exactly what’s at the bottom.
But you’re gonna have to dive off the cliff anyway.
