The Things We “Think” We Want To Do Part 2
Photo Credit: J. Howeth
The comprehension that I had just left the safety of the plane took my breath away. I was terrified beyond description - paralyzed – so frightened I couldn’t open my eyes. And the sensation of the free fall, which I’m sure is the experience a lot of jumpers are going for, was ghastly. After gasping, I stopped breathing entirely. Again, my brain was bombarded by pristine details juxtaposed against a disorienting surreal sensation:
the force of the wind trying to rip my ears off . . .
the whipping noise of the loose fabric on my pants . . .
the skin on my face flapping (and the realization that a face lift was in my future) . . .
a roaring in my head that wasn’t related to sound . . .
There was NO exhilaration like I’d read about. Just horrible fear. And it felt like it lasted a very long time.
Photo Credit: J. Howeth
Finally! Another shock to my system - my instructor pulled the cord, and the chute opened – violently. I was quite surprised by it – it reminded me of being in a car accident – coming to a definitive, no-fooling-around stop. Only when we started to slow down, was I able to open my eyes and start breathing again.
The ground beneath us was checkered farmland. A river meandered alongside a highway beneath us. The air felt calm. Even though the descent had slowed down, the next two minutes went by in a blink and all of a sudden, the ground was coming up to meet us. And it was over. So much anxiety for five minutes of - anxiety! Down on the ground, I started to shake.
Photo Credit: J. Howeth
As I remember this experience today, I ask myself, “Why did I push through on this invented dream?” Well, I truly believed what my motivational teacher told me – that by challenging my comfort zone, I would reap a reward only “doing” could achieve – the kind that I couldn’t “think” my way to. Also, at that time my life felt hum-drum - I wanted to do something unconventional, something daring, something brave.
Photo Credit: J. Howeth
People ask me if I purchased the video of my experience. (Advertisements always show close range in-flight footage of people having euphoric experiences.) I didn’t purchase “proof” of my experience because I wanted to live in the moment – it was private - for me alone. And honestly, considering the way it turned out, it would have been horrible for me or anyone else to watch. Abject terror? I hardly needed visual documentation.
People ask me if I would do again. I’ve thought about it. Now that I know what to expect, perhaps it could be fun after all. I would probably be more nervous than the first time, however, exactly because I do know what to expect. I’m embarrassed by how ignorant and foolhardy I was.
And there were consequences to this ignorance; the worst being that just like a car accident, I got whiplash - I gave myself two herniated discs in my neck that took five years to heal (I’m sure my neck will be forever wonky), and second, I must have given myself PTSD because I can’t hear the whining drone of a small plane engine without my heart missing a couple dozen beats.
