Jumping Off

Do you remember the very first time you jumped off a diving board as a kid?  I don't. I actually only remember watching the older kids doing it at the public pool and thinking to myself, "When I get bigger, I'll be able to do that."  I wonder why I remember that feeling more than actually jumping off?

I did it though.   I can imagine that swift rush of panic, hands carving frantically through the water, then a gulp of air.  There weren't many things as a kid that I decided to do, and then didn't go through with it.  Our triumphs were small, but our joys were big.  We'd breathe out visible winter air, splash our way through puddles of summer rain, roll down grassy hills and stain our pants, but weren't we thrilled by it all?  Somewhere along the way, we're told, and shown, and taught JUST enough to bleach some of that thrill away.  I think as adults, we have to seek it.  We have to seek it, not only in grand adventures like the one my husband and I are about to embark on, but in the everyday life.  It's not only possible, I think it's pretty damn vital.

I wonder what I'll remember most after this adventure seeps into my cells and wears its colors well into my skin.  Will I remember jumping off into the unknown most or the feeling right before I do it?  I'm going to seek something everyday and I know I'll come out of the other end changed.  We'll have to see what kind of change occurs, but change is magic, isn't it?  It's scary, unsettling, uncomfortable at times, but... magic.

Here we go, Jeremy and I, jumping off into the deep end of the pool.  I'm lucky I get to hold his hand while doing it.  There will be moments of stark fear and drowning doubt, but there will always, always be the feeling of coming up for air and knowing that we're okay.  I guess it's time to shake things up for a bit.  I'll be sure to keep you posted along the way.

Cheers,

Tera