What it means to be free

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I am standing at the edge of a cliff. I feel the wind blowing on my face.  I take a deep breath. I smell the saltiness of the ocean whose fragrance the wind carries with it. I decide to execute the plan that I have been coaxing myself into for over a year. I jump of the cliff, diving in the direction of the sea.

The few moments of the free fall overwhelm me with emotions. The thrill of adventure. The excitement of speed. The pressure of performing when the stakes are high. The fear of injuring myself.

 I am 20 feet above the surface of the water. This is the decisive moment. I pull open my wings. My speed is broken by their span. I change my course gliding over the surface of the water at cruising speed. I reduce my altitude so as to scratch the surface of the sea. The splashes of water on my face are refreshing. I am moving fast. I am moving in the direction of the light.  I am on my own. I am giving a dream its wings. I am free.

Song in my head:


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