Stop Risking Your Life with “Yes!”: 3 Steps to Creating Boundaries that Protect Your Best Life Yet
By: Katie Post
Tags: Self Improvement, Life Lessons, Healthy Boundaries, Values, Self-awareness

As it turned out the joke was on me. The Universe placed me as numero uno on the list of People-Willing-to-Risk-Their-Lives-for-an-Expensive-and-Short-Lived-Thrill. As the last body to load up the plane, of course, I would be the first one to jump willingly out of it. Really?! I was beginning to regret my too-easily offered affirmative to my brother’s wild notion of a fun Friday.

And still there was something calling me forth, a kind of energetic pull toward this fast-approaching edge of myself. Why did I say yes to this? I circled back to the nagging resistance in my heart like a vulture pining to peck for morsels of fear.

Heard the pilot shout his affirmative into the cloistered air of the cabin. The guides confirmed their receipt of the message with thumbs up and ear-to-ear shining smiles. This must mean one thing: We’re at altitude. This is go time. My heart skipped a beat. I tried to scan my mind for the exact moment I utter those fateful words to green light what would surely be my last sky-high activity of this sort — that is, if I survive this. The memory was hazy, but there.

The litany of affirmations to refresh my memory ran like ticker tape in my head. “You want this. You got this. Ain’t no thing! If Grant’s good, you’re good. He’s not going to kill you.”

And it was the last thought that clicked with me: Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

The only question in life is whether or not you are going to offer a hearty “Yes!” to your adventure. — Joseph Campbell

In the span of a heartbeat, I reconnect with my Why. I am here because I say “Yes!” to living on the edge of my own self-discovery, to finding fresh footing on the terra firma of the expansive ME. I said “Yes!” to my daring brother to honor him and his challenge of me, rising in my own strength to meet his esteem of me. He trusts I can do this without losing my shit or dying, I hope to prove him right.

The door cracks open to the wide, blue sky and pierces the vacuum seal on my thoughts. I am here. The clamor of open-air passages at 10,000 feet is loud and affronting. Jumpsuits signal me to approach the open door. I look behind me for the unlucky bastard up first. There was no one behind me.

I looked over at Grant. His eyes crinkled under his goggles as his grin widens. I feel him tell me from his safe spot at the back of the cabin, “You’re up. You got this.” He is enjoying this. He knows I’m squirming.

Damn! This is not the plan. He should go first. He always goes first. And when we go together, like when we jumped off the 60-foot cliffs near Fallen Leaf Lake, he initiates with the nano-second lead. Why is this time different, I wonder, as I inch closer to the edge of the open door.

I close my eyes and breathe myself present.

I choose to be here. I choose to feel alive to the moments I have. I choose to embrace the unknown and face my fears with the support of those I love.

I am clipped into my tandem partner. Our parachute pack, our clips and the rest of our gear has all checked out. If anything goes wrong, it won’t be for lack of double and triple checking. We are given the go signal. From over my shoulder, my guide shouts out to me, “Ready to jump? Just say the word.”

I can’t recall now what was the word, I just know there was some last signal to communicate to the professionals before tumbling face-forward into the great wide-open, nothingness of sky.