I was at a group gathering where we were discussing an excerpt on embracing life without fear of the unknown or something like that (That's a poor summary of the reading, but it didn't really matter). What people brought into the room left me feeling embraced.

Friend1 shared what they had learned about life from indoor climbing:

"When you climb, you're attached to a rope and an apparatus. Once you reach the top, the only way down is to let go. The apparatus slides you safely to the ground, but for a beginner, that moment can be terrifying. From the top, you look down and imagine that releasing your grip means possible death. Yet nothing catastrophic actually happens. In many moments in life, letting go turns out to be far less dangerous than we imagine."

I felt this deeply, but I wanted to complicate it. So I said:

"In indoor climbing, you can still see the ground. In real life, what's often frightening is that you are asked to let go without seeing the ground at all. Or you see only a thick fog beneath you. You don't know how long the fall will last, what you'll hit, or whether you'll hit anything at all. And yet you still have to release your grip, because staying frozen isn't an option either."

Friend2 jumped in:

"At the beginning, it feels like jumping from an airplane without a parachute. Pure panic. But then — sometimes — you realize that the state of falling itself isn't that bad. You might even begin to embrace the fall, to the point where you no longer wish to touch the ground."

That again scratched something inside me. I said:

"If I heard you correctly, I think I've been living with a version of that eternal fall. I'm a PhD student and this is my final year. It's been a long …… (just to give a bit context). For years, I've had this persistent sensation of being a bird without feet. All I can do is — flying flying flying — unable to land. I used to worry that something was fundamentally wrong with my situation. Lately, I realized something different. Perhaps the purpose of learning to fly is to unlearn the panic at the thought of never landing."

......

Towards the end of our discussion, Friend2 offered a punchy takeaway:

"Perhaps today's conclusion is this:
Bad news: you're falling without a parachute
Good news: there's no ground"

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Dear me,

  Don't see the fall as a prelude of disaster.

Love,
Me