A sun-kissed cliff-dive from the south of Italy seems a worthy jumping-off point, as it were, into those year-end thoughts that we find ourselves increasingly amidst. Beyond the seasonal transition, there is (always) perhaps some additional metaphor, meditation on time's passing and our courage, gravitas, enthusiasm and curiosity. Herewith, notes on some of the personal liberations those who take the plunge offer the rest of us.
Feel free to skip the book and just watch the short movie, for a small sense of the creative act of keeping one's presence of mind to create corporeal aerial maneuvers during the attainment of near-terminal velocity, and still arrive at a safe landing from a potentially bone-crushing, and even life-ending height.
Specifically, and in simpler language, here's Rachelle Simpson's winning dive at the 2015 Red Bull World Series Cliff-Diving Championship. These impressive 28 seconds aren't her best dive ever; she would be the first to tell you that. What they do represent, beyond the human-scale miracle that doin' crazy shit grants us, is her and her compatriots' entire season: the fails, the near-misses, the full-on triumphs, the whatever, and those yet to come.
I was really looking forward to trying this myself (albeit, at a much lesser height), as I noted in a posting on 9/10 from my hotel room in Italy, whilst slobbering up some of the best pizza I've ever had, fed me by the trio at the local pizza shop, who made me feel like I was in my own neighborhood -- and I was; I, a citizen of the world:
Simply put, it's a helluva thing to find yourself thousands of miles from that damn city you just can't ever quit, beginning your blog by contemplating the horror and destruction of buildings and people overseas, posting images of people contorting, falling (albeit, heroically) through the air, on this 9/10, the fourteenth anniversary of that very last day, before the very worst, first day...I've been invited to try cliff-diving for myself, and I'm hoping that somewhere in the moments-between-the-moments, during that space between falling and landing in the water and coming up for air, I'll learn something new about fear, gratitude, and letting go, and, well, (re-)embracing life? I could use it. Maybe we all could.
Despite my plans, looking over the cliffs, my valid and practical fear of effin' up my shoulder sadly exempted me from experiencing the dynamism of those moments-between-the-moments of a cliff-dive, and much more's the pity.
My failure to take the plunge didn't keep me from getting lost in questions about excuses and self-determination, as I watched these individuals live up to a commitment they'd made with themselves -- additionally, I witnessed the confrontation of fear, self, these divers inspired in those of us watching, many of us (present company included) rooted in a sometimes more forgetful, less self-determined way of living.
"I could never do that!" was what I heard the most from spectators, hypnotized at the moment of the jump. I also heard this via email from folks who read this blog. I would wager that more than half, or maybe all of us who said this, really could do it, from some height, perhaps far lower than depicted herein, yet also far higher than we'd guess about our abilities. And of far greater consequence, I wondered what, if any, the implications were, in accepting indefinitely (generally through an entire life lived) as first fact, limits untested, fears unearned.
As we enter a new age of emerging equality between the genders, for some individuals, widely-varying role models and lived examples may be more important than ever. It is partly with this in mind that I am sharing the existential example of female cliff-divers -- or for that matter, cliff-divers au general .
If you ask yourself: Could I do that? Would I? And why or why not?, I would like to think that other questions and answers about one's own place in the world; one's sense of self, and possible, well, sigh, self-improvements could emerge, and give us wondrous pause to consider how life can be a constant effort-based self-renewing process -- indeed, it really already is, and must be.
Of course, what do I know?
Here's photos from the winner's circle in Italy; please wait for the images to load fully.
The Red Bull World Series Cliff Diving Women's Championship airs this Sunday, Oct 25 at 7 pm ET, 4 pm PT on FS1.
Extra-credit viewing: some shots from the 2015 editions of Coachella and Camp Bisco.
FCC Disclosure: Airfare, lodging, remuneration and expenses were furnished by Red Bull Media House