In feudal Japan when samurai ruled that space in time, a samurai would venture out from time to time on a "shugyo"..... a time of extreme austere training. It would have been on a day of personal importance such an anniversary of a meaningful event. On that day, without notice or fan fare, he would leave his home and family to test his skills as a warrior. Those skills would obviously involve wielding a katana (aka samurai sword) but also this was a test of his spirituality, mental toughness and physical strength. They would endure many trials and hardships, pushing their limits and ultimately discovering what they were truly made of. If they made it back, they were pretty darn good!
Anyway .... In modern times, we too test our selves (or should). We don't go around picking fights with the guy in the next cubical or abandoning our day job without notice to wander off into the wilderness. As tempting both might be, we instead do more time appropriate and socially acceptable challenges like running a marathon, climbing a peak, changing careers, moving across country, etc.
My shugyo, exactly five years ago, was to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. I had the opportunity to learn about skydiving from a friend who trumpeted the euphoric feeling of free falling and then floating thousands of feet above ground. It certainly sparked my spirit of adventure and at the same time created an incredibly queasy feeling in my stomach. A rational person would say .... "Sounds like fun but no way". To me ..... it was to be my perfect shugyo. What an ideal way to face my fears, muster courage and test my limits!
So on the morning of July 21, 2006, my fiftieth birthday ... I left my house early in the morning without fan fare and notice, went off to a small grass covered airfield in rural Illinois. After a brief lesson and two or three trips to the bathroom, I was strapped tightly into a harness, introduced to my tandem partner, and entered a small plane with it's two propellers whirling. The deafening engine noise was masking the pounding of my heart.
Off we went into an extremely steep climb, quickly flattening out after reaching proper altitude. I was among experiences skydivers and a few other tandems. The pro's were joking around but us fledgling baby birds were just a little bit nervous about leaving our nests for the first time. My tandem skydiver joined in the kidding torelieve a little of my stress but even in his clowning there was a clear serious nature about checking harnesses andgoing over Safety instructions. We were ready.
As we reached 14,000 feet, the signal was given to stand and approach the now opened door. Just like in those WWII movies, we lined up like paratroopers, ready to jump into battle. The experienced skydivers couldn’t wait and, with ear-to-ear grins and carefree abandon, quickly jumped one after another shrinking in size as they fell. For me, it was an eerie feeling ..... wind blowing, staring out at the patchwork fields below, feeling the vast nothingness of space and knowing that the only thing between me and thehard ground was that open door ..... but there I was ...... toes over the edge.
In a tandem jump, you are securely fastened toan experienced skydiver on your back. My guy was a scrappy Brit named Jacko. Besides being there for your survival, he was there to "help" you take that first step into thin air.
Out we went. Remembering my instructions of arching my back, legs bent at the knee and arms out .. I was in free-fall. Oddly enough the fear was totally gone, replaced by an incredible sense of freedom and serenity. The only hint of falling was the images on the ground quickly getting bigger. It was an incredible feeling. With the cool wind noisily rushing all around me, I was screaming with excitement and exhilaration. We dropped 4,000 feet in one minute. At 10,000 feet, I was too distracted to pull the ripcord so my partner did, thankfully. We gracefully floated in contrasting silence to the ground where I made an albatross-like landing. My "shugyo" was over and concluded with high fives and a manly hug from Jacko.
I was reflecting upon my experience over a cold beer at a nearby bar that offered discounts to us skydivers. The realization was that all the fear and anxiety I felt was driving to the airfield, strapping on the harness, enduring the steep accent in that noisy, prop plane and, most of all, standing at the open door with my toes overthe edge, gazing into the unknown.
Once I was out, there was no feeling of falling but only the joy of facing my fears and knowing that I successfully completed my first "shugyo". I felt alive... in many ways.
The moral of the story? ........ You can figure it out.
