Skydive!

My brother, Michael, and I had been off seeking separate adventures when we decided to embark on one together. Still asserting our independence, we chose the 4^th of July. We were going skydiving.

Our course at the Perris Valley Skydiving School was an all day venture, preparing us for our static line jumps. (This was before tandem jumping became popular.) The class involved a full day of training where we learned how to toggle right and left, pull the parachute open, pull the reserve chute open if we had to, jump out of the plane properly, and land safely.

We had to read a statement to a video camera that said we were releasing the school from any liability should anything go wrong, and that we would not sue them. This made my stomach queasy. Luckily we had an attorney in our class who told us not to worry because it wouldn’t hold up in court. So we all read the “I won’t sue you if I’m mangled or dead” statement and moved on to the next stage which was getting geared up for the jump. I chose a red one-piece jumpsuit that zipped up the front and fit perfectly, a white helmet, and wore tennis shoes with rubber tread that I hoped would adhere me securely to the ground upon landing.

We went up in the small plane, three at a time, with the lightest weight person being in the back of the plane & the heaviest up front.

The thoughts that raced through my mind in the back of the noisy plane before it was my turn to jump were thoughts of things left to do in my life, if onlys and what ifs. Like, did I tell my family and friends how very much I love them, and how much more I really wanted to accomplish in life before leaving this planet. Being the last to go gave me too much time to think. But, by the time I scooted up to the open plane door, and reached for the bar under the wing, I was resolved to whatever happened. I wasn’t jumping, after all. I was releasing. Letting go. Into the sky. Into the vast open space. Into all that is. Into the Universe.

The instructor was right next to us, making sure that our static line was properly attached, and that we made our way out under the wing safely. At the edge of the open door, I reached for the bar under the wing and then shimmied myself out of the plane, holding onto the bar securely until my instructor yelled “Skydive!”

We had been taught to release our hands from the bar & throw them up behind us, with our backs arched and our heads looking up. I remembered the camera attached under the wing and when I released my hands, made sure to look up and smile. Oh, the benefits of being an actress!

Moments after letting go of the bar, the static line pulled the chute open, and I rested in the whooshing sound of the air, and the peacefulness of the infinite sky. The earth was beneath me and its beauty was breathtaking. Perris Valley itself isn’t that spectacular, mostly dirt and dust, but I was floating, gliding, free falling, suspended in time. It only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like forever.

I can see why skydiving is addicting, because once you hit the ground you want to be up in the air again, like a bird, flying free. With a parachute for wings, and toggles to guide the direction of your descent, you actually have some control in the midst of having none.

What a rush! What a joyous rush! Mixed with fear, overcoming my fear, letting go, releasing from holding on, being out of control, silence like I’ve never known before, utter relief upon landing safely, and the pure exhilaration at having accomplished something so daring. I have to skydive again!