Significant Something #936 • 3 MINUTE READ
Písek, Czech Republic • September 19, 2015
Once upon a time unassuming daredevil, Rosie, told us all to go jump off a bridge. So, we did.
Deceivingly docile and reserved in disposition, Rosie has a history of surprising the company she keeps with unpredictable, adrenaline-seeking adventures. For her birthday, in an ironic twist, Rosie wished to celebrate her zest for life by defying it. And, she invited others to do the same.
Jump Tip #1: Say Yes. When someone provides you an excuse to go bungee jumping, you never-ever-ever RSVP “no” (even if you have a slight fear of heights).
So, eagerly I responded to Rosie’s birthday invite, and found myself, four days later, peering 50m over the ledge of Zvikov Bridge. What I failed to process, in my impulsive attempt to check something off the proverbial “bucket list,” was that I frequently find myself unnerved by heights (although, I rarely allow the fear itself to inhibit my experiences). As my close friends and I nervously captured pre-jump selfies and anxiously watched others perform the leap of faith, I made the age-old mistake of looking down.
Jump Tip #2: Don’t (look down). Like ever. (This tip is NOT overrated.)
To ward off the phobia that was slowly gripping my body, I chattered away with anyone who would listen to me, including the bungee experts, until it became quite clear there was no way out of this terrible life decision.
Jump Tip #3: When you pay a mere 1,000kč (approximately 37 € or 40USD) to take a flying leap off a bridge, you always-always-always hug goodbye to the person holding your (cheap) rope, no matter how silly it may appear.
And, eventually I found myself on The Ledge.
The Ledge is an interesting space to occupy. It’s a sort of “love purgatory” by itself: a limbo state of residence in both heaven & hell, offering you immediate comfort, yet no real relief from that which threatens your safety. It’s a place where all your desires have blurred into one gigantic ball of sheer terror. And so, The Ledge holds you; taunts you, while dangling that which you fear-want in front of you. How cruel!
For approximately five agonizing minutes, with my entire body involuntarily shaking from a panic I couldn’t articulate, I was faced with escaping “love purgatory.”
You learn a lot about yourself on The Ledge of “love purgatory.” Because, you see, there is a lot more than just your convulsing body that is clinging onto that railing (oh, how I loved to cling to this railing!). The Ledge holds all of your childhood anxieties. The Ledge is familiar. The Ledge is relatively comfortable. But, The Ledge is also limiting, giving the allusion of security. And somewhere in between the raging pulse of blood, the clatter of racing thoughts, and the pounding beats of self-doubt, I willed myself to quiet all the noise and racket from years of living on The Ledge.
Somewhere, deep in the recesses of this quiet space, I found myself ever-so-delicately releasing my fingertips from my BFF-railing and letting go, openly sailing through a dark and silent rush of freedom.
Jump Tip #4: Jump. (Preferably on 3. Or in my case, 300).
I am forever indebted to Rosie for allowing me to release myself from The Ledge and all that resides there.
And we lived happily ever after. The End.