Well today sky diving was beautiful.
It wasn't just about the sights - the patchwork quilt of farm land and the mountains away in the distance, like purple shadows on the horizon. It wasn't just the setting sun, whose orange rays seemed to be under us instead of below us, or the feeling of flying - like that eagle on the thermals in Arizona.
No, today, sky diving, to me, was a metaphor.
I learned from the jump that sometimes you can't stay in the plane. The plane is like a safety zone, where you know how everything is going to turn out. The plane is a 401k and a life insurance policy. The plane is a house with a white picket fence. The plane is knowing exactly who your friends are, and who you can trust.
But the plane is not life.
The jump is life.
You see, life happens when you take that chance, when you step into unknown. Life happens when you let go of what you think you know.
Life doesn't always come in the black and white safety that the plane affords you. Life is messy and it's in shades of grey. Hell, life is in color.
Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it plays tricks on you. Sometimes, you play tricks on it. Sometimes it gets out of control and you can't stop it because it's moving so quickly. Sometimes we master life - other times it makes us victims.
But in the end, only two things matter.
One: that someone is there to hold your hand. We all need somebody in our lives, to understand us and love us for our grey selves... we just have to remember that someone isn't always safe like the plane, sometimes they're just as dangerous as the jump.
And two: enjoy the ride. Before you know it your feet have touched the ground and its over. You can't go back. So see the sights, smell the smells, feel the air, and hold that hand while you can...
Because, like sky diving, life is amazing, if you can just get up the guts to take the plunge.