Fourth Form of Madness

This week my husband jumped out of a plane. Totally willingly he flung himself out of an aircraft and proceeded to free fall towards the earth, all the while chanting instructions to himself and running several checks. Prior to him jumping, he performed a little demo of this falling instructional routine in our lounge room. It was really beautiful watching him go through his routine with memorised precision and joining him in “hard arch” once or twice. However, when he jumped, he jumped alone. Falling through the air with just a bag packed of material and routine performed earlier in the lounge room. Well maybe not completely alone, fear jumps with you, even if you have to stand on its head to get out of the plane. Of all the amazing aspects of the jump, I think this aspect, the working with fear, interests me most, because it applies to each and every one of us. Even us non jump out of plane types.

Fear. Whether it be over spiders, flying, work, public speaking or just plain being, we all live with some shade of fear. I caught myself in one of my old favourite’s last night at the movies. There I was settling back in my comforty chair, sipping my beverage and mindlessly shovelling popcorn into my mouth (and lap) when an advert for superannuation came on. Hit the panic buttons!!!! One of my biggest fears is ending up, old, poor and desolate on the streets. It’s always been with me since as young as I can remember (umm there’s a clue, childhood, maybe I learnt it there). Anyway back in the cinema my hand tightens around my drink, my breathing escalates to one step off hyperventilating and suddenly I can’t swallow my popcorn as my throat has tightened. In fact, my whole body has tightened, my chest, my stomach and my face, and believe me I can’t afford to be tightening my face, I don’t need anymore wrinkles. My mind races over what I own, will it be enough, I make a mental note to ring my superannuation firm tomorrow and see what I can do about building my retirement fund. I’m practically on my way to the foyer to text my superfund, why wait to call tomorrow with all this fabulous technology, when I catch hold of myself.

Whoa girl! Take a breath. See the fear, and by see, don’t just look at it, really see it. Understand the friends it is travelling with. The old voices from the past that educated you about their beliefs and values and didn’t leave any room for you to shape your own beliefs and values from your experiences of the world. Time to open a window, let a little fresh in and do a little bit of “unlearning” – my favourite kind. So as I sat there with a death grip on my soda watching my fear, I began to feel like my free falling husband. Only this time, as I free falled with my fear, packing awareness as my parachute, instead of chanting a routine full of instructions on how to be and get through this, I was watching to see where this routine of fear’s originated from. I wanted to know its nature, it’s origin, so next time when it came to visit I could say “hello my old friend, pull up a chair, this is going to be a long fall”.