September is a gorgeous month for skydiving. The summer heat has lost its oppressive force, but you can still be comfortable either in shorts and a tee shirt or with a jumpsuit on top of that. It’s noticeably cooler up top when you get out of the plane, but it’s not cold enough to need gloves or extra layers yet.
Now, for those of you that don’t know me, I’m ordinarily a pretty laid back guy. If you see me lose my temper, something like, huge has probably happened. For some reason though, skydiving was a parallel universe for me. I was driven. I wanted badly to be good at freefall skills so I’d be able to turn formations deftly and be able to zip around the sky with other jumpers. When I tried learning certain maneuvers though, I’d try too hard, and I’d be more likely to lose my cool when something didn’t go the way I planned.
Early on I would jump out of the plane and my body tensed up. I’d go rigid not because I was nervous about plummeting toward the ground, but because I was overthinking the instructions and was too focused on trying to get it right. In freefall though, to get your body to do what you want it to do, you need to have your muscles very relaxed. Tensing your muscles causes all different kinds of problems for you. This wasn’t like kayaking, weightlifting, or skiing, where adrenaline or extra power can be a big help; this was an entirely new type of physical challenge…you had to stay chill when the wind is so loud you can’t even hear what someone six inches away from your face is screaming at you.
On one jump, I don’t even remember what happened…I just remember that even though I landed safely I was furious at myself for not getting the freefall objectives right. I mean like, livid. Before my canopy had even completely settled onto the grass, I ripped off my helmet and threw it on the ground, then started kicking it around for good measure. Oh, man, was I ticked! I was ready to get in my car and leave.
There was one instructor at the drop zone, Darlene, who really understood people and what makes them tick. She saw my little tantrum and talked with me about what happened on the jump. After our impromptu debrief she said something surprising. She told me that I needed to get one more jump in that day before I left.
It was surprising because on busy days you had to get in line to get a ride up to altitude; if people wanted to leave early, that was only good news for everyone else. I didn’t want any part of it, I was just feeling sour and wanted to take my ball and go home. She took a look at the schedule of remaining flights and found a way to get me another jump before I left that day. I jumped again, and it went much better than my helmet-kicker.
Darlene knew that if I left on the heels of a bad jump, it was quite possible that I might never come back. She understood that in order for me to flip the script in my own mind, I needed to walk out of there with success more fresh in my memory than failure. It didn’t need to be a stellar jump. It didn’t even need to be a great jump. It just had to be enough, in my mind, to crowd out the memory of a horrible jump.
It may not be skydiving, but you might be in the same boat today. You could be about to turn your back on the thing you thought you were meant to do.
Maybe you already walked away from it. You started walking and you didn’t even turn around to look back, because you want to convince yourself that this isn’t for you.
Well, even if you stepped away, what if you gave it another try? Do you have more to lose than you have to gain? It might just be worth another shot.
