The Open Road

Every so often, I must prove to myself that I am still living life and that life isn’t living me.  The occasional tough pinch in the skin doesn’t always work.  On Sunday, I went cliff jumping at Red Rocks Park, a hidden gem of Burlington, VT.  It is accessible a quarter mile off the main trail through dense forests.

Standing on the ledge of the cliffs, I could see the jagged rocks underneath the clear water; I was immediately filled with consternation.  My heart started pumping.  What happened if I hit the bottom and became paralyzed?  The possibility of severely injuring myself caused trepidation.  But after assurance that the water was deep enough followed by a hortatory countdown from five others I had met, I made the jump and plunged 40 feet into the frigid waters. I had conquered the cliffs, and every fiber in my being had confirmed that I was once again, was alive.

Please take a moment and honestly answer the poll.

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If you answered one month or one year, go out and do whatever makes you feel alive.  Help the elderly.  Ride a motorcycle and feel the wind ripping through your hair.  Watch the sunset from a hill.  Dance the night away.  Don’t let responsibilities and dogma get in the way of living life.

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