The day begins with two injuries, one serious, one not. I watch the ambulance
take the AFF level 5 student who forgot to flare off the fields, lights flashing, bumping
over the dirt, and away to the hospital. Not 20 minutes later, someone turns low, and
drives himself sideways into the ground. The sound that it makes! I flinch and cringe,
knowing he was not getting up from that. And then the arms wave, people shouting call 911,
other people running out to him with the medical bag. I stay where I am, knowing I can't
help although I am somewhat emergency trained, I at least could hold the damn canopy over
him so he's out of the sun, but I also would just be in the way, and I really don't want
to see him. And the ambulance is taking forever - where is it, is he still alive? And the
waiting and watching is killing me, so I start talking to people, anything to keep me from
looking. The ambulance gets there, loads him up. He is hollering from the pain, and I can
hear him. Good, I think, he's still alive.
Sinister and Albatross are there, as is DiverDave, and I talk to them for a while. They,
though, are busy jumping and I am just waiting for the school to call for me. I turn my
mind away from what I saw; I am going to jump, but now I am feeling very cautious. I have
a new exit, and I can't even visualize how I am supposed to do it. Everyone assures me
it's going to be wonderful, and I believe them because they would know, and I can't keep
the thought of falling out of the plane from my mind. I walk over to the school, trying to
get some quiet time, but I can't escape those little whiney voices telling me I am pushing
my luck, look at what just happened, stay on the ground. I can't escape them because they
are in my head, and I can't find that switch today.
Ed is really backed up, and I consider taking my level 5 with another instructor. The
waiting is killing me. I decide to wait for Ed, though, because he knows me, and I trust
him beyond anything or anyone else. I go through the harness room with Eric and a lady
named Rhonda. She is doing her level 3 (good for her!!! Yay!!). We talk about spinning
mals, and when to cut away and Eric asks me "how does it feel to float" and I
start laughing, because I can't explain floating, but I know when I'm not. I apologize,
because it seems out of place, but then Rhonda catches on and says "Michele,
did you have a cut away?" which I didn't want to answer, because I think it would
bother her, so I dance around the question while Eric tries to help me out. Some verbal
gymnastics later, and she's looking at me, knowing what I am not saying. I am not a good
liar. And I have scared myself again. We get out of the harness room, and walk over to see
who's on the manifest. I have at least another 40 minutes to wait before I can even get
ready, and Ed's in the air, so I walk back over to the packing area to sit still for a
moment. I shut my eyes, and discipline my head away from the accidents and the fear, and
back to the joy I feel in the air.
Ed comes over, and we practice the exit on the pretend plane. Hold on tight, swing the
leg, and step off. Again and again we do it, and it just feels wierd. My hands are
sweating, I can't keep my grip on the bar; what is going to happen in the air if I can't
do it on the ground? Ed sees the unasked question, pats my shoulder, and reminds me I have
7500 feet to recover. Which should have been reassuring, but today it wasn't. What if I
can't?
I finally get to gear up; I select a much baggier jumpsuit because I don't want to fall as
fast. It's way too big for me, and my arms and legs don't make it out the holes. I push up
the sleeves, but can't fix the bottoms, so I just walk on them. I examine the rig, not
really understanding most of what I see, but trying to do a gear check anyway. Ed asks
"anything out of place"", and I say I don't think so. He laughs, and asks
if I mind him looking at it just to make sure. He does, there's nothing wrong so I put it
on my back. I grab the altimiter, goggles and helmet, and shuffle off to the loading area.
I can't think really well. I try to do the dive in my head as I am walking, but I keep
going other places in my mind. I am focussing so hard, and failing so miserably in my head
that I walk smack into Ed's back. Now my nose hurts, too. I am scared, but it is less than
before, and I say a quick little Thank You. We are first out, so last in, and I begin to
see the pattern that is loading. I, of course, don't want to be first out, but it can't be
helped. That's just the way it is.
The plane ride was not fun, but uneventful. I really don't like the door. I watch the
ground recede, and I don't think about it. I am still trying to get my head out of my ass
far enough to imagine the dive past the exit, but no joy. Now it's 12.5 and we get to the
door. Crouch, hold, switch grips, stand up with my head out of the plane, look at Ed, my
feet are slipping shit, o.k., swing the leg, and we are in the air. That was the last good
part for me.
I arch, but we are still falling sideways. I arch harder, and then we are leveling off.
There is no comfort today, no feeling of freedom, no bliss. I do my practice touch and
find the handle. My baggy jumpsuit is catching the wind, and whipping around, and Ed lets
go. I try to check my alti, but it's covered by the overlarge sleeve. My right arm decides
to ignore my brain, and planes back and down. I start turning to the left, I can't stop,
here's Ed - wait no, he's gone, and I am trying everything to get a heading. Finally I do,
but lose it almost immediately. I don't realize it's my right arm that is thinking out of
sequence with my head. I didn't see Ed's alti, so I try again to get my eyes on mine, but
again it's just not visible through the sleeve. Shit - where am I? How long have I been
here? Look again, can't get it, decide to pull. As I signal, Ed grabs my leg. Finally I am
not spinning, and I reach with my right hand, paw frantically at the sleeve, and still
can't clear it. Look for the chest mount on the vid guy, can't see that, either. Nope,
folks, it's over, I don't know where I am, so I signal, and I reach, and pull.
And my canopy opens fine, and now I can see my alti. I am about 4700 feet. I am furious.
Lit. Livid. I blew that, dammnit, just blew that. I look out to the horizon, and see the
beauty in the clouds, and the lakes and the dropzone, and I still am not finding the
quietness I long for. I see it, but it can't get past the upset and anger I feel. It
hasn't changed, I am just not making that connection today. So I decide to practice some
turns, why not, flat turns, and s-turns, and finally get the courage up to do a really
hard turn. I bury the toggle. Well, that scared me, so I stopped. But then I decide that I
want to feel how the canopy moves this time, really understand it. It occurs to me that
being angry at the freefall is taking attention away from right now, and that it is
coloring my experience. So I tell myself I will be angry later, and just play under the
canopy.
I get set up to land really well, and I wait to flare......and now! I flare. Damnit, I am
way too high, so I let up to my shoulders, and then hold it, but the ground is coming
fast, so I finish the flare and my belly rolls because I can feel the drop and I know I am
going to hit and then I get moving sideways now; I know there is no hope in standing this
up and then I am down and trying to roll to the right and bang goes my face into the dirt.
I finish the roll, drop the toggle, ground the canopy, but then this leviathan thing fills
with air again and the fight is on. I ground it again, and again it fills - back and forth
this fight continues, with me trying everything to get it to lay down, damnit, it's like
playing with an octopus and it finally does stay down because I just flat out won't let it
fill with air. I gather the lines and try to get this huge chute into a semblance of
order, get it into one hand, and walk over to Ed.
"I quit" says I, "I am not cut out for this". Ed just looks at me and
laughs. Right, he says, go put your stuff away, and let's go watch the video tape.
""But I mean it. I really don't like this". Ed just shooes me into the
packing area, and runs off to his next class. I am all tangled up in the lines, and the
packer and I are trying to get me unravelled and then these arms come around my body from
behind, and it is Albatross, and he hugs me hard, and laughs in my ear. And I feel better.
I go find Ed, and ask him if he thinks I should go again today, but it's getting late, the
winds are picking up, so we just watch the videotape and when the heck did my right arm
grow it's own brain?
I will learn from my mistakes today. I will be back next week to do this again, and this
time, I will have a lobotomy performed on my arm so it will do what I want it to. And I
have somes things to think about, too. Does anger and self doubt color my view of my daily
world the way it robbed me of the glory today? Does fear prevent me from really and fully
transitioning to the new moment from the last? And how much of me gets buried by tentative
behavior, caution, no risk?
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