About a week ago... I did something I didn't think I would do.
It was the result of 50 % peer pressure. (Or cousin pressure, I should say).
And 50 % of my own guts.
I flew in an airplane that was notorious for dropping out of the sky.
Remember... I'm the girl who made myself actually sick from worry to fly on a plane.
This worry was the result of getting struck by lightning on the way to Ethiopia.
This kind of "fear" or "worry" is the same kind that often results in my "passing out".
For you medically inclined people out there... I usually have one of those "vasal-vagal reaction" thingys and, as my husband has witnessed a couple of times.... look like I'm getting sucked into a black hole, and then collapse. Poor guy.
"Jennifer... just do it," she said.
So I did.
My cousin works at a skydive zone. She packs the parachutes. She's got guts I tell you. And her other half is a skydive instructor. He's got even more guts. I was able to fly co-pilot in the plane that drops off the skydivers. I was able to see them barrel out of the plane.
Soon after they were all out and screaming through the sky...
the pilot looked over at me with an elated expression... yelling over the hum of the engine...
"I GET TO DO THIS FOR A LIVING!!!"
"THIS IS MY OFFICE!!!"
"CAN YOU BELIEVE IT???"
"THIS IS WHAT I DO!!!!"
"YOU MIGHT WANT TO HOLD ON!"
"HERE WE GO!!!!"
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry... so I just focused on breathing.
He dropped the plane.
We were going to beat most of the skydivers down.
Beat them down.
Did you read that?
And it was so dog-gone awesome.
I have to tell you... although I'm not sure I'll ever muster up enough gusto to actually jump out of the plane... I walked a bit taller that day. I was sorta proud of myself.
My cousin knew it would be good for me.
"Just do it, Jennifer."
For the rest of the day, my usual obsessive brain was a bit more quiet.
The sheer moment-by-moment focus and joy I experienced up in the sky had carried into the rest of the day.
And it was a day to remember.