You know that feeling in the second that you jump, when all of the anticipation and fear collides with the blinking realization that your body has betrayed the more reasonable parts of your mind? That moment when you become aware that you have jumped but have not yet become aware that you will as law dictates, fall. All anticipation, dread, and expectation yield, in that moment, to the mind and its time for awareness--for consciousness. The body respects the minds need to process, to understand. And when it does, the mind becomes bashful once again. ***
I find it curious that often times we fear the fall itself rather than its conclusion. When I was a little girl I could swim for hours and hours in one place, treading water. I would do this while I watched a line of people climb to the top of a very tall diving board at a lake near my house. I can't say exactly how many feet high it was, only that it was quite tall and impressive to behold, even from the neighboring road.
I came to relish watching person after person climb slowly up the green ladder before taking the jump. For several summers I was content treading water with an occasional trip to the platform where the high board was stationed. I watched from the platform, bodies drop from above, and imagined myself deep below the water after falling from such a height. One day, without much conviction at all, I began to ascend the steps of that tall board. The steps were wet and cold. I gripped the edges with hands and feet feeling the rust under my palms. I was scared and self conscious. I felt small and tired standing over everyone. When my eyes reached the top I could not remember all the times I had watched others jump. The memories seemed ancient and filmy. Or anyway, it didn't seem to be the same place nor the same time. I did not, could not recognize the board. It was then a true disappointment to me. And I nearly cried at what I understood to be a great deception. In my desperation and fear I clung to the railings on each side of me and pushed myself forward, towards the edge. I curled my big toe over the edge and watched it blanch in protest. I know that I never feared the moment I would make contact with the water. I hoped the moment would come quickly. No, what I most feared was the descent--the sensation and the complete helplessness of it. Before I had finished playing with this fear I felt my mind tug and my arms release. Only after the instant did I remember my own decision. My feet scrunched and my chest launched forward.
What have I done It's done I've done it
Song of the Day: The Escapist by Coldplay
"Master Yoda says I should be mindful of the future." Obi-Wan
"Not at the expense of the moment." Qui-Gon Jinn
Did I just read the screen play for Inception? Interesting concept though. I understand the emotions you are attempting to convey, however, can we relate that same feeling of dread to other aspects of our life? Which do you agonize over most; the writing of a paper or receiving a less than desirable grade? I dread the writing far more than an unfavorable grade. Or perhaps the anticipation of a shot at the doctor being far worse than the impalement itself. The slow, tortuous, downward spiral of a dying relationship or the break up itself?
ReplyDeleteGreat post Caleigh