I imagine I’m on a cliff somewhere. It’s sunny; harsh, but there’s a cool breeze that caresses my skin as it passes. It is my urge, the voice and sense of will; brave and blowing towards the cliff top opposite. It is the drive I need to get me to it and over the gaping canyon which lies between; rocky, deep and threatening. It threatens an end in death or an excruciating pain of some kind. A kind similar to the agony brought about by something internally broken, like bones or a fractured heart…
The gap is wide and dangerous looking. The sight makes me feel sick a little and triggers unusual sensations in my stomach. A churn, a flip, a sink… All the while the wind is attempting to sweep me over the canyon to safety. To the wonders of life and all the experiences I’ve wanted and prayed for. Yet, something is keeping my feet on the ground. There is an anchor in my sole, and my mind drips words of warning so I question my temptation.
‘Am I mad to even consider a leap of this kind?’
‘What if I get hurt? How will I recover?’
Sure enough, I know, the wind will give up trying and let me be. It’s not real anyway. My mind tells me. Even so, there’s no way to be sure that I can make it over safely. Trust is a like a risky investment. How can I put my life in unsteady hands?
I however have to make a decision, before the element of freedom passes and I’m left alone without a choice.
Fight of flight?
I can’t remember whether that term is relevant here. I remember hearing it on television programme, and I gather my own meaning from it but am unsure as to whether I’m using correctly. Fight the temptation or fly with it? I’m asking.
I take in a deep breath and as I do, I look down into the footless canyon beneath me. I feel uneasy, but as this happens the cool breeze whispers a message, dolce. sweet…
‘Have no fear. Let your heart be free.’
Freedom.
Freedom takes me over the gap.
It’s simple. It’s swift. It’s easy…
I feel lighter – brighter…
Ready.
I take a few steps forward and turn around to set my eyes on the distance travelled for the last time and look over in pride over the length I have flown.
'My. Look how far I’ve come…'
Good job.
