When I was younger I did something stupid.
I jumped off of the stage at school while I was doing prep work for the orchestra concert that I was playing in later. I then did this repeatedly until our teacher came out and told us she needed us to do something else.
This was not the only time we did this during middle school.
As such, I can now tell the weather to when it’s going to rain with a level of accuracy a few former coworkers are a little freaked out by. After all, estimating 22 minutes until downpour and at 21.5 minutes later… well you get some voodoo respect.
Which today in South Carolina they were telling me that it was going to rain today but it was pushed off for two days. We’ll see because my back says otherwise.
(This is being written on Tues, April 9, 2020)
This leads to a second story about a decade ago, I was this naive nineteen-year-old at a meet and greet and tried to tell a joke to ease whatever tension was in the room. It is a default thing to do from my childhood. I asked if the best way of jumping off the stage.
It did not go over well.
Mostly because my sense of timing and comedy were absolute trash at the time.
I think I’m better about it these days.
There are about three ways to jump off a stage.
- Flying leap,
- Sit and Hop,
- “This dumbass is balancing on a bar and I’m supposed to make sure he doesn’t die.” (resembles flying leap but there are more time constraints.)
The fun part about this story is that our entire lives are like this. We’re all pretty much in a phase of using the third one. Because we don’t know when we will be able to escape our houses and when we will have our lives return to normal, or even if we want them to.
And we would much rather be in the second one, the calculated landing, the soft landing.
Problem is our flying leaps are where we make the most progress.
This is the point where we really don’t know where we are going to land because we don’t know how far we’ll go. This is a point in our lives where we pivot and we land somewhere somehow because we tuck and roll and find a soft spot to settle down.
It rarely looks pretty and put together. It rarely leaves us without a few scars. It rarely comes as planned.
Because it isn’t planned.
I wanted to ease into a writing career with the work that I was doing previously. I wanted to slowly add a person at a time and then have it to be enough to replace what I was making before.
This is not what I planned. It looks nothing like my nice steady graph that made my sense of security all happy.
But I’ve taken flying leaps in my life.
I’ve left the state I was raised in with no plan of where I was going to end up. Granted I didn’t know if I needed to get out of the state and take a break to get on track again, or if I needed distance to really make the progress that I wanted to make.
I moved to a state where I didn’t know anyone and made friends and family there. I don’t just survive in this place, I can thrive even while isolated from everyone.
Take this point in your life and let go
The flying leap is powerful. But it requires you to leap, not just step off from where you are. That can actually hurt you more than anything, because your force is all directed downwards and can shatter your ankles and crush the cartilage in your back that you can tell the weather with an accuracy that puts the weatherman to shame.
Granted it’s a localized area of your location but still, it’s not a gift I would wish on anyone, but have I ever been caught in a downpour without umbrella or raincoat? Nope, not this one.
The leap is where you go forward.
The leap is where you pull up the anchors and see where the wind takes you.
We are sitting in a world that will look nothing like it did yesterday because things have changed. There are things that will not be here in a few months. Hopefully, that’s this virus that has been overhyped and shutdown everything. There is a level of negativity in the media about it that has me turning off the news and ignoring it. I don’t want to hear how terrible it’s going to be. My own what if meter is already working overdrive for any situation. I don’t need any more data. Thank you.
I want to hear about animals reclaiming land. I want to hear about dolphins in canals where they haven’t been seen in years. I want to hear about pollution levels dropping because we shut down factories for two months. I want to hear about animal shelter out of pets to adopt because people are finding new friends*.
I want to hear about the happy stories. I want the nice things in life to get the attention they deserve because if you live and look for the negative, you will find it.
I spent enough of my life seeing it.
So I’ll take my leap and go where I haven’t been before.
I’ll leave my comfort zone.
Because the first thing a true leap is going to do is take me out of my comfort zone. I’ve got a little plaque thing that has a quote that really strikes me every time I look at it, which since I use if for my coffee spoon every morning is often enough.
What about you?
Do you want to stay where it’s comfortable but the same?
Or do you want to see where this flying leap can take you?
Because if this time is anything like last time– I’m all aboard the next phase train.
*I’m not that responsible so I made my own friend. He still needs a name.