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.
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.