Flying through the air with the greatest of ease...

Yep, that's a trapeze. And YEP, that really is ME flying through the air! Thanks to the Trapeze School of New York and a good friend who is always up for *unique* city adventures, I had my first brush with circus life and the aerial arts. I flew high above the New York skyline by my hands and knees, flipping (not so gracefully) into the bouncy safety net below.

The initial go up was actually the least scary, simply because I had NO idea what I was getting myself into! After the second and third time up, however, my adrenaline and nerves kicked into full gear, and I couldn't stop my knees from knocking and my hands from trembling as I reached out for that metal bar. There was a deep breath, there was a call for prep ("READY!" at which point you bend your knees), and then a loud "HEP!" which basically means JUMP! This was the part where my heart leaped out of my body and I squeezed out a quick prayer -- something like, "please Lord don't let me die on the trapeze," and then juuuuump.....!!

And ::suddenly:: I was flying. Effortlessly. Weightless. And yes it's true, "with the greatest of ease!" It only lasted a minute or so and there were instructions being called out the whole time ("KNEES UP! HANDS OFF! REEEACH! HANDS BACK ON!!" etc...). Somehow my body responded and actually did everything it was told, all while sailing 20 feet above the ground.

All of those trips up the ladder were preparing us for for something bigger and greater, though -- the final run -- The Catch. The Catch meant letting go of the bar, hanging only by your knees, then reaching out to the trapeze artist flying towards you who was waiting to catch you and carry you across the twinkly New York sky. By your arms. Words to describe my mental state prior to The Catch? Terror. Doubt. Hyperventilation. Even though everyone before me successfully accomplished The Catch, I feared that I would somehow mess it up. Or freeze with fear. Or plummet to my death. But somehow, standing up on that platform, knees knockin' and heart POUNDING, I heard the calls and I prepped and I jumped and I swung and I *LET GO* ... and then suddenly there were arms there, STRONG ARMS, grabbing onto me with confidence and easy strength. My body was lifted from the bar and I experienced the glorious feeling of flying through the air, safe in the arms of a professional, and for those few moments there was just QUIET and PEACE and excitement and joy and so many other feelings! And then, RELEASE. Which was so sweet b/c it was combined with this amazing sense of accomplishment! I DID it! I flew!

Since that night, I've been thinking about things like "flying" and "letting go" and my life right now. And about how there are so many things I want to do and so many dreams I feel like I'm *supposed* to accomplish, but many of them involve taking a risk and letting go of the bar. Which is so scary. And my knees knock and my heart pounds and questions surface like "but how will I pay the bills?" and "what makes me think I could do THAT?" ... But then I think back to those times in life when I have taken a leap of faith ... when I let go of the bar and really REACHED ... and I see that those times were the most amazing ones. And no matter how big the risk was or how scared I felt, there were always arms waiting to catch me. Strong, secure, safe and loving arms. Not once did those arms allow me to plummet to my death or to my embarrassment or to my self-destruction. In fact, those arms gave me the ride of my life. My job is to take the risk. To JUMP. The rest is left in very capable hands -- strong hands that will grip and never let go, that are just waiting to catch me and carry me through the next phase.

Thinking back to that moment of lying in the safety net, after it was all over, out of breath and staring up at the lights of the sky and city, I realized that I would never have experienced that magical, adventure-filled experience had I not been willing to ignore my fears and just JUMP. The magic happened when I closed my eyes and stepped off the platform.

A little life lesson from me to me. Thanks.