Floating to Earth

Floating to Earth
         We are almost there. The tandem-jumper’s altimeter reads seven thousand eight hundred and thirty-nine feet.  Kneeing on the floor of the plane securely fastened to the tandem jumper I am waiting. I was given instructions on what to do. I just hope I can remember them.
         “Door open!” shouts the pilot as the plane reaches eight thousand feet.
         “Door open!” answers the fun-jumper twisting the handle and pushing his shoulder into the door. The wind grabs the door slamming it open, and the loud, monstrous cold rushes into the plane trying to push me back, but this time I am not afraid.
I was up here earlier today shooting video of another lady jumping to celebrate her thirtieth birthday. As a passenger, I got to experience the loud cold wind that rushes into the plane when the door is opened, and that scared me. I was filming her jump and tried to get her and Mario leaving the plane, and as I leaned near the door the fear of falling out came to the surface. This is what it’s like hit me all at once, but I have had time to think this through and I am ready for my jump.
The fear quickly dissipates and my face takes on the same smile as the fun-jumper with the camera climbing out to take my picture. My face keeps this grin for the rest of the day. The fun-jumper is standing outside the plane holding on to the wing support with one hand and has only one foot on the step leaving room for my feet. I look at him for a moment worrying he will fall. Then realize how silly. Of course, he is going to fall. So am I. Hopefully he can hold on long enough to get my picture.   
         “Place your feet on the step” says the tandem jumper. I reach my foot out the door and the wind pushes it off the step. It is a concentrated effort to make my foot stay on the step. Then my other foot follows more easily. I scoot to the edge of the floor of the plane, lean forward and grab hold of my shoulder straps waiting for my tandem jumper to get into position. Looking down I realize there is nothing but the sky between us and the ground. When my daughter was little she asked me “How for up does the sky start Mommy?”     
“It comes all the way down to the ground.” I said. I know she didn’t believe me. She gave me one of her looks, and asked the question again insisting on getting the right answer.
Sitting on the vibrating metal floor and hearing the roar of the engine, I feel the last bit of safety before the jump. Then realize my true safety is strapped to my back and I am taking him with me. Then we lean forward, and somersault out of the plane. In this moment of freedom I let go and relax. We are in the sky.
         My tandem jumper stops the somersault and I see the horizon. He taps my arms and I put them out as instructed. I remembered. Then he tapes my legs and I put them back. We are flying! My grin is lost in the flapping of my cheeks, but it is still there even wider than before. The tandem jumper shifts his body, and we turn half way around to see behind us. How easy it is to move in the sky.  Then he shifts again and I am facing the camera again. I give the camera two thumbs up and blow kisses all the while grinning. These gestures are futile efforts compared to the joy that is flowing through me.
         Then he pulls the cord and there is a heavy pull in the harness as we slow down from one hundred and twenty miles per hour to fifteen miles per hour in a few seconds. Then all is quiet except for the gentle breeze flapping in the parachute. Without the rushing wind we can easily talk to each another. “Reach your hand out,” he tells me. “You are touching the sky.” I look up to see the bright green and purple parachute slowing our decent. It is a beautiful sight against the clear blue sky above us. “Take the goggles off to get a clearer view,” He says. Incredible, this day just keeps getting better and better. The sky is perfectly clear when you are in it.
He tells me to adjust the leg straps so we will be ready for the landing, then hands me the yellow straps hanging from the parachute. “Lift your arms up high then pull down on the right one” He says. We are spinning and I feel my legs swinging out. Wow! What a ride. “You are controlling the parachute. See how easy it is.”
“Can we spin the other way?” I ask.
“You’re the one controlling the parachute,” he says. I pull down on the left one, and we start to turn. “Pull harder,” he says. And we spin around again laughing. He tells me to look into his wrist camera and asks, “What do you want to tell the people out there?”
“Whenever you ask me that question I can’t think of anything to say.” He moves the camera away. I just want to marvel at the sight around me. I want to be able to see it all at once, and you can because there are no barriers to obstruct the view. This is such a personal experience. The words wow, incredible, amazing do not begin to describe what I am feeling. A joy that comes from being in this moment floating above the Earth so high I can see the curve of the horizon. Seeing for myself the Earth really is round. I am above a ball that is not as huge as I thought it was.
“Do you see those buildings way off in the distance?” he asks as he points to the northeast horizon.
“Yes,” I say.
“That is Boston,” he says.
Boston is an hour and a half drive in a car. How close it seems from this perspective. Looking down I see the roads and farms amongst the lakes and trees. The cars on the roads seem to move so slowly, but I know they are hurrying to their destination. From here there is no destination only being the daily routine is put into perspective from here. It is not everything, just a small part of the whole. This jump is showing me there is so much more to my life.
The ball beneath my feet that I walk on every day is now far enough away that I can see the sky touch the ground like I told my daughter. Her mother was right. I also see the sky surround the earth as it does me, like a blanket keeping me safe from the cold. The Earth is in the sky as am I. There is only the floating and the wonder of being here. What has happened to my fear of falling? I let go of it as I somersaulted out of the plane. Fear cannot exist when there is nothing to hold on to. In this moment of freedom I jumped from the plane. It is this freedom I feel as I float to Earth on this beautiful day, but what happens when my feet touch the ground. To make this freedom a permanent part of my life I must take this life changing moment with me. The smile on my face has moved to my heart to remember. A promise I make to myself.
We are nearing the drop zone. I wave to my father and Mary, and I hear her laugh. We are still above the trees, but the ground is coming up fast. Will the landing be soft, or will my butt be bouncing along the ground.
“Knees up,” says the tandem-jumper. I raise my knees watching the field speed by under me. “Feet out straight,” he says as we slow down and gently skim the grass and come to a perfect landing. I see Andrew filming me. I have made a new friend today. “You are unhooked now. You can stand up,” says the tandem-jumper. I get up so overjoyed I raise my arms to the sky and cheer as loud as I can. There is so much happiness I have to let it out to the world. This is what I wanted to tell the people out there.