Diver Down

It was a beautiful night in an unbelievable setting spent with old friends until the wee-est of hours. We swapped the remember when tales, the innuendo banter and the lexicon of pop culture addiction like pros. Like most nights like this or in predictable scripts of ensemble casts the moment came where someone saw either the opportunity to show off a little or invite their friends into a spiritual experience.

Our idyllic setting possessed cliffs and emerald waters below with a platform inviting one to throw their self into Neptune’s embrace. There was one and then two, both of which beckoned to us onlookers to come on, it was life changing, freeing pure wonderful. Number three lined up and froze, again and again, but would not be denied and finally took flight. Then four and five all sharing in the thrill and chattering like squirrels in their excitement.
I got the, I’ll go if you go, and then another source told me I would be sorry and finally the wuss label. None of which has ever really worked on me. I was actually getting all the enjoyment and spiritual bliss I needed watching the others go. The daredevil stuff has never given me that rush or opened the door of life experience. I have my history with it some of which was in pretty destructive times. The ole, look at me! I need your help! Not my friends though. These were grown adults doing something that freed them for not just the few seconds before the splash, but actually letting go of some of those unseen bonds we all carry.

My desire I am learning to pursue once again. I am choosing desires from a more rational place than before. Purges of a life’s collection of things, actually learning to sleep, become a more social creature that requires little attention. My past was based on self destructive behaviors and I was the poster-child of look at me histrionics and self fulfilling fates. Pushing the world and all things good for me as far away as I could was the regimen, bad boyfriend, bad friend, bad attitude and a death wish was my view for a good number of years. It wasn’t working for me anymore. Short of death what could one do? I became the complete opposite; working jobs I loathed fighting to climb ladders I despised and every time the prize was in reach a change of direction. I never jumped off a cliff to shed fears, but I would readily throw myself off one as a way of keeping myself to me. I layered myself in pity, objects, clothes and body to push the world away. Trading destruction for destruction until a few years ago, when I realized how few people knew me. That for someone who was semi well travelled, who had history with so many folks along the way I had very few friends. My family only saw me intermittently between shifts at work. I had a huge pile of stuff that had more bad memories connected to it then a sense of accomplishment.

So I decided I needed to shed the layers get to know the world around me and be a part of it. I am a better friend, father, and husband. I am finding the not so secret adventures offer the same thrills as the daredevil ones of yore. I am realizing the fear I could not pin down was succeeding at life, like I would be a sell out for being happy as opposed to living the sell out life in misery. I’ve learned I can still be all that I envision and involved with the world at the same time. It seems like a silly epiphany, but the utter distrust I have carried all these years it is my cliff dive. It was a step in a spiritual direction which I shared with good friends from the past and the present on a beautiful night in an unbelievable setting in the wee-est of hours.