Flying

"Look over your left shoulder, do you see you're connected."
"Yes"
"Look over your right shoulder, do you see you're connected."
"Yes"
"Now scoot to the edge and hang your feet outside. Ready, set, arch."

Suddenly, airborne, with nothing but the ground rushing towards my face, I'm freefalling from 9,500 feet over green hills, cities, ocean, fastly approaching ground, looking up, flashing the peace sign at the camera man, smiling, the force pushing against my face, fastly approaching ground.

The thoughts: I am falling out of the sky, I just willingly jumped out of a plane, this is amazing, this feeling, this air rushing up at me, the flying, the ocean to the left, the greenery to the right. The fall. The sky. The movement. The feeling. The euphoria. The adrenaline.

Tap, Tap.

Pull the parachute.

Upward jerk. Now floating. Calming. Tranquility. I'm a bird. I've lost my human form. I'm part of the sky and these feelings and this experience. There is no consciousness besides this. This is just me at peace with my being.

Pull to the left. Spin. Hold straight. Float. Pull to the right. Spin.

I'm here. I can't stop smiling. I'm weightless. I'm doing something that defies that standard conventions of human behavior. My God, I just jumped out of a plane! I could stay here forever, balanced, part of something bigger than myself. Breathing in and out and being apart of that breath, part of that air, off the ground, no more restrictions. Just me.

"Okay tuck your knees up."

We slide back to earth. Through the grass. Back on the ground.

"So how did you like it?"

"Let's go again!"