Inevitable

It’s funny, but when the inevitable finally happens, it doesn’t have the earth rattling impact that you thought it would. It’s more like a quiet drop somewhere low in your abdomen. The only thing maturity seems to have offered is a quicker realisation to getting to that point. Apart from that, the parallels are classic history unfolding in front of you, just in hindsight. Heart rending farewells outside the airport. Gut wrenching loss of losing a friend. Neuroses personified as you turn into someone deeply unattractive; desperate, clingy, angry, hurt, unable to see anything beyond yourself. Gradually, but surely turning into someone you don’t even recognise anymore. Then one day, something snaps. The proverbial last straw, and you finally just unclench your fists and let it go, only to be haunted by the questions it always leaves behind. Clawing at you, eating away inside you. That’s the difference. The wisdom perhaps, certainly the knowledge and experiences that bring the perspective back sooner. That let you see yourself and those around you more clearly, bringing back the equilibrium, erasing the fear and insecurities. But you had to let it go to be able to let go of the anger and fear as well. An amputation, swift, sharp and merciless, before you can find yourself once more through the morass of emotion. Not to lash out in anger and pain or curl up, all weak and snivelly. To be able to look back and remember the good things. Not just to say the words, but realise that life really is too short to let go of those that matter to you, that there are those things that just can maybe never be fixed, but you can’t not give it your everything to try. But it’s a realisation that needs strength. The strength of a woman, not a confused child. Strength you can only find when you find yourself again.

Many lives, many dimensions, many parallels. But we just have this one to remember. This morning I got asked if I thought of dying at any moment during the sky dive. It's funny, but it never crossed my mind. Even when we fell out of the plane, I never thought of what might happen if the chute failed to deploy. All I could feel was the scream of pure adrenalin, the sheer exultant joy of the experience. If I could pick a way to die, this would be it. Hurtling down 15,000 feet at terminal velocity, body smashing into a million pieces.

Short, sudden and spectacular. It's the only way to go.