Floating on Air


It’s rare that something leaves me speechless, only able to only communicate in fragments of emotion and memory.

Singing the chorus of LIVING ON A PRAYER with twenty other people sandwiched in a small airplane.

The flip-flop of my stomach as I slid toward the door.

An overload of sensory triggers as I looked out at the expanse of earth at which I was about to throw myself.

I hadn’t allowed my brain to think about it until it was too late and kneeling at the edge of a plane wasn’t the moment to start.

Suddenly, I was in the air and my fear was gone. It was simultaneously the most peaceful and most exhilarating minute of my life. I spread my arms wide, embraced the wind into my lungs and the sun into my eyes, and allowed myself to feel alive.

When I arrived safely on the ground, I finally let my brain go. Whirring and spitting, it tried to understand why I’d willingly thrown myself from a plane.

But I asked it to step back. I didn’t need it to be logical right now, because my heart had decided that embracing life is always worth a little risk.

Floating on Air

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