Falling to Earth
I suppose everybody saw or heard something of the fellow who jumped from a balloon borne capsule at around 25 miles high. Apparently he spent 7 years planning, 2 hours ascending, and 9 minutes descending. He broke 3 records, highest jump, fastest jump and the sound barrier.
People thought he was going to blow up on the last one, passing the sound barrier at over 800 mph. He said he didn’t feel a thing or have any idea how fast he was going with nothing to relate to.
And that’s the point. It’s all relative here and with only up and down to relate to it looks like a fall when in truth it was an ascension. He went as high as he could to do what he did.
He stepped off into space to invoke and face his fear of falling, what else is there to fear, really.
And such a simple experience, falling, falling …
On the way down he was spinning out of control but regained poise somehow. And when the time came he pulled his cord and came in to land perfectly, on his feet, as if it was perfectly planned and executed from the start.
He never really left the earth, and never really lost control. I suspect through it all he maintained a quiet place inside. A place untouched by all that passed by outside.
And when asked what next he said ‘that’s it’, next he wants to be sitting where the guy before him was sitting that day, next to the guy after him.
He doesn’t feel the need to break any more records, he intends to have some fun flying helicopters in rescue missions around the world, or such.
What next? Who really knows when the only indicator is the past and occasionally there is the new.
A perfect landing? Or a perfect escape from the repetition of fear?
I think I might go to an old haunt of mine, down Wooyung way, see what’s fallen to Earth. Mid week should be quiet, early November for the Christmas Beetles or whatever else falls to earth then – maybe stay a day or two if the van is ready – doesn’t seem likely though, it takes much longer to get things done these days than it used to.
It might be a good time for an uncomplicated natter with nature, accessed from the old caravan park, though I don’t expect much since there has been so little rain for so long, you never know.
Nature is always in some form, no worries.
I clearly haven’t done the work for such a journey. Sometimes giving up is the only way to move on. Giving up the expectations, of self and others.
And some things we are just hard-wired for, the unchangeable. You never know until the day. So, no time to judge.
Unless the observer sees more clearly. It’s why it’s called part-icipent. One is not the other.