Free Falling

This is us up there! (lies)

When my sister and I were 12 and 14, our parents took us on an epic 14 day vacation out west. We started in a quaint bed and breakfast in Sedona, Arizona to see the red rocks, took a train to the Grand Canyon, and later drove down the famous Route 66, passing Hoover Dam to finally arrive in Las Vegas.

As we pulled up to the MGM Grand on the strip - our last and most anticipated stop - we couldn't help but notice the eye-catching steel arch that stood stoically along the skyline just behind our hotel. Intrigued, my sister and I stared at it for a while, long enough to see miniature silhouettes slowly hoisted to the top, hanging by a thin cord, snuggled together by what looked like potato sacks. Moments later, the distant sound of shrill screams pierced through the dry air as they dropped, soaring to the ground below.  They swung back and forth, their height decreasing with each swing, until finally they hung only feet from the ground. Mesmerized I looked over at my sister, her face pale knowing exactly what I was about to say - "Lynnie...we're doing it!"

Remove a chick and visualize preteen Cupero's

This sky coaster was the tallest in the country at the time, and being fearless sometimes to a fault, I finally convinced her (and my parents) to let us do it on our last day there. I was so excited but admittedly near peed my pants during the entire pre-ride debrief process. Following a few shaky signatures we were strapped into the apparatus and slowly lifted - the anticipation and fear mounting the closer we got to the sky. And let me just say, when you are the one strapped in, submitting completely to thrill and trusting your life to a cord, moments feel like an eternity anticipating the fall. And then suddenly, the cable let go and we soared through the air on our stomachs, holding hands and screaming at the top of our lungs. It was a moment of pure joy and reckless abandon. And just as I had promised her over and over again, it was an absolute blast. I will never forget the feeling of my stomach in my throat, squeezing my sister's hand - completely letting go and enjoying the ride down. 

I would like to think that I am still that same risk taker - someone who grabs life by the horns, shakes things ups and has enough faith and trust to enjoy the unknown. But I have come to find that the older I get, the more terrified I become. Falling is only one letter away from Failing - and I can sometimes be so afraid to fail that I avoid letting myself feel the freedom, clarity and excitement of taking a risk and enjoying the journey.

Learning to let go is never easy. It is something I struggle with every day. But I am slowly trying to rekindle the spirit of that 12-year-old girl who was brave and only needed her sister's hand to feel excited by risk. I am trying to allow myself to be open to the possibilities - to see challenges as opportunities and to remove the road blocks that I skillfully position in front of myself daily. I have been walking in fear recently. Fear of failing, losing, getting hurt, letting someone down, letting myself down. And I would really like to get to a place where I am as excited and passionate about the direction of my life as I was by that sky coaster - accepting that even if I pee my pants a little on the way down, at least I wasn't too afraid to free fall.

Stupid bitch.

SIDE NOTE: This post was inspired by the fact that while in hot yoga today I fell on my face and busted my lip. I was seriously inches from the ground and I completely face planted. But instead of freaking out and cursing my lack of ability to be as amazingly stable as chick to the right, I laughed, got back up, and did it again (as the blood rushed to my face and my lip grew three sizes). It was a God smiling moment that got me thinking (while icing my lip with a frozen chicken breast) about why I was able to fall on my face and laugh in hot yoga, but not so much in the grander moments of my life.
You're welcome for that visual.