Sometimes we have to consciously let go and begin the fall

I’m at the edge, looking 2000 feet below. For a moment I can’t breathe. Just minutes before I’d shuffled on my bum lining up behind others. Minutes before that I’d clambered in - my first flight. I was 21 years old.

A light aircraft. My glee as we bounced across the grass runway. The excitement of flying tingled with the nerves of what I was about to do.

I recall that the first planned jump was postponed. Psyched up and then, it didn’t happen.

A week later - a call. We’d jump in a few hours.

That moment perched on the edge, I’m contemplating not doing it, not sure I can.

I recall telling myself to let my hands loosen their grip. You don’t push out. You fall out. A conscious decision to let go.

The sound of the wind was incredible. Absolutely exhilarating. 1000, 2000, 3000, 4000 check canopy. No need to look up - the sound and the pull up tells you it’s open,

But you must. To check it has opened correctly.

So little sound. This must be how it is for a bird I think.

So many years later I still feel in my body the sensation of peace and calm and just gently floating. And then, I have to land. Over all too soon.

One day, a 10,000 tandem - longer to enjoy the ride.

Have you ever done something exhilarating?

Or consciously - had to let go?

Mend My Life - The Journey by Mary Oliver

Do you like poetry? Did you sit hrough school listening to poetry you didn’t understand with words that didn’t make sense? With images that seemed dark and unfathomable. And the whole thing was boring!

That was my poetry experience at school. Except for limericks. I did like a good limerick, fun to make up and read aloud.

Inspired by a post I saw on LinkedIn about dreams, plans and goals, I heard the line ‘Mend My Life’ in my head.

A line from the poem The Journey by Mary Oliver. For me, it’s a poem about the power of change and transition. How there is something that burns deep within, that has a forward movement. How we move towards that something, breaking free from the ties that would bind

'Mend my life' those ties shout at you. And you step forwards, with determination and courage.

I’ve not been one for organising the trajectory of my life around tightly bound plans. But I have been blessed with a sense of direction, knowing what my first step would be at 16, my next steps by 30, a dream for 40, and now for 70. Something about life path working within. And I know how fortunate that is. There is here, as Mary Oliver says, a journey of sorts

Have you been blessed with such a journey?