The other day, I watched my husband jump off a 32-story building (….pause for dramatic tension…and go) for charity. He raised $2618 to earn the right to do so, a feat arguably as impressive as jumping off a building. Okay, “jumping” sounds a little extreme. He rappelled. From a 32-story building.
I’m not going to tell you how hard it was to watch. (Though I think I just did).
From the safety of the ground, he was but a fly-sized speck on the side of the building against the blazing early autumn sky.
I knew he would be safe. I knew he had state-of-the-art harnesses ensuring full support. I knew he completed all of the necessary training. And I knew he had a crew of skilled climbing professionals dedicated to making sure all of the checks and balances were well in place.
And yet. Yet.
I also knew there would be a moment. THE moment, after the waivers were signed and the apparatus fastened and the last minute advice given and the “I love you” text received from the wife and the “go” signal given that he had to just step off the ledge. Of his own volition. Of his own accord.
To release and allow himself to fall backwards in the harness to let the rope take the slack. The non-negotiable starting point.
And in that split second free fall, I knew he would be living just one question: will I be okay?
So I sent this message from the safety of the ground: “Yes. You’ll be okay. You’ll be more than okay. Just let go.”
And, of course, he did. And he was.
No sooner had he settled in that truth that he started whooping it up, kicking off the building and living out his latent lifelong Spider-Man fantasies.
And the smile on his face when he was on terra firma enjoying the crowd’s appreciation? Satiated and eyes glittering with delight, newly inspired by what he just accomplished.
I see this every single day with my clients. The deep yearning to step off the ledge and into the dream that has been kept at bay for far too long. The step that comes with 1000 good reasons NOT to take.
.
And the little secret I know: they want me to shove them off the ledge. They also want to have me definitively answer the question: will I be okay?
.
I’m a lover, not a pusher.
.
So I tell them:
.
Make sure you want this.
Do the due diligence.
Hire the best team.
Inspect the ropes.
Listen to the instructions.
Text your partner.
.
Then sign the waiver, lean back and let go.
.
Your life is waiting for you.
.
Goosebumps.
oooh, i love me some goosebumps.
That’s a pretty awesome thing to have done and it becomes all the more awesome when I read it as written by you – your ability to take us into the experience is sublime, Tanz! Congrats to the hubs and yay for texts
thank you, T. That means a ton…have been struggling with some demons around writing lately. Hmm…next post here, perhaps.
What a great read, Tanya! This really spoke to me as I need to take that advice! So, what does my “jump” look like? Hmmmmm… Really got me thinking. Thank you so much, Brilliant.
We’re here, cheering you on, whatever your jump looks like.
Like Amy, I needed this advice too! Love your little list at the end. I’ve signed the waiver, and just need to lean
Mmm hmmm. And go. xo
I love this!! xx
thank you, CS…I so appreciate it. And you.
Tanya, I could feel my heart in my throat as you described hubby getting ready to rapel….and you know, that is EXACTLY the feeling I’ve gotten anytime I’ve had to trust and GO FOR IT in a new situation. Especially with business. Thank you for such a beautifully written post. My spirit is encouraged
)