Answers that came Falling Out of the Sky: My Skydiving Experience

Answers that came Falling Out of the Sky: My Skydiving Experience

“3…..2…..1!” I saw my life flash before my eyes as I tumbled out of the airplane, free-falling to my imminent death. What did I just do? Why did I sign up for this? Am I stupid? 

It was an experience like no other. The fear that gripped my lungs changed from squeals of joy to shrieks of terror real fast. Too fast. I never knew regret could overtake the body like that. 

Let me take you to the moment the airplane door opened. 

I thought the sky exploded. The aggressive hum of the engine married the rushing whoosh! of the wind and the two were indistinguishable. My delicate musician’s ears were not happy with the piercing sound. The air that spilled into the plane was absolutely FREEZING, as if God had left his refrigerator open in a blizzard in February. Except it was August in Florida, and we were in the middle of the sky. I tightly gripped the latches on my harness, the metal floorboard of the plane, anything that could keep me in touch with reality. I could not believe I volunteered to be here. 

It suddenly became very real how dangerous this situation was, and how little control I had over it. I was flirting with death for perhaps the hundredth time in my life, yet this time, I had exactly zero control on the outcome of this situation.  

What. Have. I. Done. 

I watched my best friend jump first. He slowly moved his legs over the edge and I could see him processing what was going on. Before I had the chance to say goodbye, he disappeared into thin air. 

And now it’s my turn. We scooch toward the open hatch and I awkwardly get my legs into position. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, pausing only when I need to gulp in more air to get more screams out. I’m holding onto the edge of the plane for dear life (literally). My instructor unpeels my white knuckles from the plane and places them on my harness so we can jump. Without thinking, my hands instinctively cling to the plane again. He waits a moment and then gingerly moves my hands back onto my harness, and this time I oblige. And before I knew it, we were off. 

As soon we became airborne, the answers started to fall. Answers to questions I didn’t even know to ask. 

Here is what I learned.  

Fear will ALWAYS be unpredictable. Now, if Fear was a person, we would be very good and old friends by now. We have spent a lot of time getting to know each other, and I thought that I knew it inside and out. Being in situations that make you afraid and uncomfortable are an important part of growth, and I’ve learned to embrace it and manage it with grace. However, in this new circumstance, it hit me out of left field. My old pal Fear, who I thought I would always behave in the same way, had suddenly become more powerful and overwhelming than ever before. For the first time in a long time, it was bigger than me. I had no choice but to surrender to it until I could regain control. No matter how emotionally aware you think you are, there are always situations to test you and redefine your limits. 

Speaking of limits: skydiving pushed them to new heights (pun intended, ha). Suddenly, my threshold for excitement was shattered. Up to this point, I could not recall an experience that tested my limits in this regard. “Too excited” didn’t exist to me. Yet as I fell toward the ground at remarkable speeds, I felt too excited. It was too much to handle.  

It actually made me irrational. After the initial freefall was over, the parachute came out, and we were peacefully gliding over the beautiful scenery of the world. My reaction? “Okay, I’m done now, let me out,” I told my instructor. I know what you’re thinking because I’m thinking the same thing now. Um, what? Girl, you’re still thousands of feet in the air, you can’t just say you’re done. But I did say it, and in the moment I expected him to do something about it.  

To sum it all up, going skydiving taught me that there are always hidden corners in myself to explore. Admittedly, I thought I’d go and do it and then be ready to return to normal life. But I couldn’t just move on. This experience redefined “normal” life, because my capacity to handle hard situations was challenged. I look back on the answers that fell with me, and I feel immense gratitude. 

If you haven’t caught on by now, I didn’t like skydiving. But I am so, so glad I did it. Beyond the surface-level lessons (like learning to trust a stranger I was attached to, or what 120 MPH winds feel like), it is the deeper secrets that I uncovered in myself that made it a rewarding experience. Would I do it again? Ha. Over my dead body! Thankfully, however, the unexpected answers I acquired will hold my hand throughout the rest of my life, and that is a blessing I could not have asked for.