Ok – listen – there are times to jump and times to be pushed.
You’ve gotta figure out which one is calling to you.
You’ve gotta know that regardless of how you’re falling from that cliff – because you were pushed or because you jumped – falling is what you’re doing, and it is scary and awesome. Both.
When you hit the bottom – if you hit the bottom – you might have some broken bones. You might be bleeding. You might have a piece here that oughta be there. You might not make it at all. You might get caught on a hereto unnoticed ledge between this place and that one. Or you might land in a sea of chocolate pudding. The best chocolate pudding on the planet. It could also be that you lose yourself and float off into the ether – drift forever – never hit the ground.
Doesn’t matter, not ultimately. What matters is that you were in that moment, enduring the fear of having no idea where you’d land, and feeling the rush – God, it’s a rush, isn’t it?? – of not knowing.
A total rush.
You’re not the only one falling / jumping off that cliff. People have been falling and jumping off cliffs since the dawn of cliffs. There were always cliffs. Cliffs were carved by the elements and by God. They are here for us to fall from.
Look around and you’ll see the others. Some of them look freaked out and panicked, don’t they? Grab ahold of them if you’re feeling up to it, if you are one of those who looks exhilerated and confident. You don’t know what’s going to happen next. A bubble might burst, a patch of turbulence will make you sick. You’ll look around and find someone else to grip, someone who has a grip already.
Somewhere, sometime – eventually – you will get to where you’re going.
You will tell the story of your fall like it was the best thing that ever happened to you. The first story worth telling. Maybe it’ll become the only one you ever tell.
People will listen to you.
Some will be impulsive and jump too soon. Some will tell you you’re a fool and will need a push. You won’t care.
You, like all the rest of us, will have been both those people, and you know they’ll both be you.
Great reminder that the jumping is what makes us get there!
Simply awesome, Knight. What is life without those small and big leaps of faith?
Jeni, you know that better than a lot of people. So happy for you and Larry. So touched.
I’d rather have creme brulee – even if you have to get through the hard sugar crust first.
Best. Metaphor. Ever.
Lookin’ for the pudding.
No doubt in my mind that you’ll land softly.
As someone who was recently pushed, I can say I honestly enjoyed the fall b/c it made me take a good hard look around. Added bonus: when one is forced to make big changes, deciding to make additional changes doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.
So…….. I’m giving 2012 a good ass kicking back. And it feels great.
Oh, Beth – that part about the additional changes is SO true. Thank you for reminding me. Glad to hear 2012 is working out for you!
Yes, that part about the additional changes is a darned good point.
This post made me smile cause for the first time, I thought back to my cliff and even though I have had some broken bones, best thing I’ve ever done! Great post.
That is great to hear, Jackie. Safe to say that despite the broken bones, your sea of chocolate pudding awaits? I can’t think of a time I’ve regretted jumping off a cliff.
I love you.
I love you too, East Sider.