We stand here at the edge of the cliff, looking down at our future.
We see where we want to land and are thinking about how long it will take to get there.
We imagine the sensations we will feel. The resistance from the contradictory wind. The feeling of nothing supporting us or catching us.
Though we went through all the preparations and checks, we wonder if our parachute will work. We’ll never know until we go but…
We stand here.
We look at each other thinking of how we can trust each other if one of us jumps. Will the other? Will you jump and descend into the moment with me?
When the feeling is right, it is not I who will jump first or you who will jump first.
You will hold my hand and I yours… and we will jump.
As a metaphor, we understand that if this experience kills us, there will be new cliffs to jump off of with others at other moments and we will learn something from each one.
I almost want to turn around and walk back down… but I don’t because I haven’t learned anything.
I stand here, reaching out my hand. I look in your eyes and without a word await a response.
I await the moment when we jump.