Flight

           I chewed gum. People always say to chew gum before a flight. So, I chewed gum. The plane takes off. I feel afraid, excited, antipicapatory, all at once. Yes, this moment has finally come. Had to do a prescreen. Blood pressure, weight, height, pulse, etc., but it's going to be worth it. I think about whether or not it'll be like a rollercoaster. Going up to the top of the hill, screaming on the way down. Wonder if I'll scream this time or what I'll do. This is my first time, so I don't know. I don't know. The airplane ascends, like any other aircraft, I chew. My ears pop, which is good. Then, though, we hear the instructor say to line up, so we do. We practiced. I know what to do in any scenario; where the emergency pull is, what to do if it tangles, etc. I feel my blood pressure go up, my heart racing. The first person goes over and drops like a can of beans over a cliff. Then, it opens and he waits a moment and gives a thumbs up. The second person waits a moment, is given a push and does the same thing. Now, it's my turn. I'm ready for this. I smile. I've waited my whole life for this beautiful moment. Think about a graduation, a wedding, the birth of a first child. That's what this is like for me, even if I decide to do it again. 

           The guy asks me if I'm ready and I tell him yes. I feel the rush throughout my body. Hairs standing on ends. Then, he pushes me and it's beautiful. It's silent. There's no cars, no traffic, no knocking at my door for bullshit. There's just pure silence. The air is rushing past as I accelerate at 9.8 meters per second squared. Then, I realize that ten seconds has passed, so I pull the string and the parachute comes out. And everything stops again like I'm floating on air. I give my thumbs up and the plane keeps moving. I drift forward because of the wind and start moving down. I was told to avoid wires and trees. But after fifteen minutes I land on a field and am fine. 

           I look around and hear the sounds of nature. Crickets during the day. Who knew there were crickets during the day. The instructor had me put a GPS in my pocket so someone from the team could find me. I have to make sure I get off of private property, avoid dangerous wildlife, and avoid high electrical currencies. But it looks as if I'm in a field and no one is around. This is part of the reason I went on this adventure, was to escape, but I thought I'd be escaping in the air, not on the ground. It's just a plain plain.  A few squirrels and rabbits maybe, some grass, but that's all. 

           So, I sat down and I meditated. The adrendeline stopped and I took a few deep breaths. It felt relaxing. I felt like I was in the zone, the way writers do when they space out, but keep writing and are amazed when they go back to see what they wrote. A few moments later I see a nature-colored jeep. They honk and I get in. They asked me how it was, if I was safe, and other things, but I couldn't describe it. It's like a person who's had a near-death experience trying to explain the color they saw during their experience and the closest thing they can say is the light was white, but brighter than white, so it wasn't white. Like that. It was silent, adrenalizing, beautiful, calm, peaceful, exhilirating, but indescribable. Imagine explaining to an alien what chicken tastes like. Well, it tastes like chicken, which tells the aliens nothing. What is skydiving like? It's like breathing while being unable to breathe, it's calm while exciting, it's . . . unbelievable. 

           People in the airforce say it's no big deal.  They do it all the time. It's part of their job. But for me, it's not my job, it's escape, it's quiet. The ultimate quiet, not just of the outside world but of the inside world, too. Like a Zen Buddhist when they meditate. Or the high from a drug that we can't sustain. 

           Next time I think I'll go on an airplane where they'll take me higher. Maybe if I go higher they'll let me jump for twenty seconds instead of ten. I paid good money for this, but when I'm on my death bed and looking back at my life, I know I won't regret this. Inner quiet. Inner peace. “Inward, outward, onward, and upward.” Maybe I can join a diving club or a bungi cord club or maybe a skydiving competition club. Or train people the way I was trained so I can do it for free? 

           I tried noise-canceling headphones to recreate the sense of silence and it helped with some outside noise, but didn't help quiet my inside voice. And that's what I want; inner quiet. Like the cusp between awake and asleep where nothings on our minds. Maybe have doctors put me in a medically induced coma to calm to mind or maybe keep skydiving to let the ten seconds keep adding up. I'm sick of thinking, worrying, obsessing, remembering, obsessing. I just want to forget it all and escape in the air with the clouds and the birds. 

           Of course there is the rule of percentages. Every time we enter a car we're playing with percentages, though. Every time we enter a plane or jump out of one. Every time we breath we trust the next breath will be there. So, I'm going to go again and again until I can teach and go for free and for right now I'm happy with that. For right now, I'm happy. 

           Everyone has obligations in life. We have jobs, we have bills, we have spouses, we have kids, we have friends who need us. But sometimes we need to escape, too. Everyone escapes different. Some exericise, some use drugs, some drink, some race cars, but me, I'm a skydiver. And you know what? It's worth it to me to go through basic training if I can keep doing this and not only doing this, but getting paid to do what I love. Wake up, jump out of a plane, hear the quiet, kill people, more quiet. Quiet, quiet, quiet. And if I die, there'll be even more quiet and I'll see the light, whatever color it is. And I'll have quiet on my plain plain. I'll have quiet. Peace and quiet. Me and the sky.