I went cliff jumping a few years ago for my birthday. It was the first time I had ever attempted it, and my friend convinced me that I would love it. So we went. We hiked a while before we reached the place where we could enjoy this great Azusa summer past time. When we arrived, I decided to eat lunch first. I was starving from the hike, and the thought of the long way between the top of the boulder and the surface of the water was a little bit overwhelming. I sat and ate, and basked in the warm sun. When my basking turned in to baking, I decided it was time to try this cliff jumping business. I took off my tank top and shorts and walked to the edge of the rock. People who had already been jumping were below, cheering me on. There was excitement in the air as I prepared to embark on my first free fall from 40 feet above this little mountain pool.
They cheered me on and counted to 3 about 10 times before I finally gave up. I couldn't do it. I was too afraid. I was afraid that I would hit the water and my brain would explode, or that alligators would eat me, or that I would never be able to climb back out of the water because surely all my limbs would be broken. It seemed that I had so many reasons to be afraid. Looking back, I think that day would have been so much better if I had just jumped. I would have had a better story, and I would have a conquered fear under my belt. Fear is paralyzing.
As I stand on the edge of the cliff of my life, I think I am similarly paralyzed. Over-thinking all the things that could go wrong, analyzing all the reasons people will be displeased with different choices I will make, I am deeply aware of myself and my decisions. I want to remember this time in my life as a time when I jumped. I want to throw my fears into the wind and embrace the pool of freezing water. Even if all my limbs break or my brain explodes, at least my story tells of excitement, and passion, and adventure.
The goal of life is not to just arrive at death safely.
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