Ok, Jump!

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to skydive or paraglide. At some point in the terrifying sky-high process you will have to jump. Jumping is the hardest and scariest part of everything and far too many things in life can feel like being thousands of feet above the ground and being told it’s time to jump –then to just fucking FALL.

I think it’s that I’m too sensible for my own good –jumping (in order to fall) is not something I should do to remain healthy and IN ONE PIECE.

 

And yet…

People do jump often!

Daily.

And what do they get? 99% of the time exhilaration is what. How much exhilaration do I experience being a non-jumper? Ya, you guessed it… very little. Not that I’m saying I find myself needing that level of excitement in my life, I’m not. What I’m saying is there seems to be a lack of ability TO jump for me. Reward or not.

Some of my biggest realizations and lessons have come to me SINCE turning 40, and I’m constantly saying where would I be if only I had learned this at 25? Further ahead is where. But even as I say that, on my “cosmic scale of self-evolution”, I know full well that I was still a baby at 25. I don’t think I could have grasped a quarter of the things I’m realizing now.

Which makes me say: What are you going to do with this piece of information now girl? You going to benefit? And I hear myself replying –That looks like jumping. Even if it’s just moving forward with this new information about myself I’m still so damn unsure. (As I perceive it to be my hovering at the edge of the mountain cliff or at the open door of the plane.)

I feel like this is where I admit: Nobody gives a fuck of you jump Natalie. Only if you don’t’ survive would anyone care. And guess what little lady? You 100% will survive. It’s not actually a mountain top or a plane. It’s your courage, your ego, your self-perception, and your WILLINGNESS to be brave again after you jump. Which by the way is more like the height of the front step. “Mountains out of molehills” is what I’m doing, and if I insist I’m a tiny ant, then a mountain that molehill will be. But I’m not an ant, it’s not a mountain, I’m not skydiving or paragliding, there is NO actual falling.

The REALITY is that I’ve constructed a FALSE REALITY where fear is nicely hidden in the cracks and crevices so I’m able to pretend it’s not there, and in some areas it’s not. But in others it’s the glue holding the whole false perception together.

This is where I look at all this information and tell myself: Make a big deal of it if you want, it’s still only the size of the front step. So jump, or just walk.