You figure it just takes one huuuuuge leap of faith to hurl yourself off the metaphorical cliff before you’re off and … well, dropping through the sky like a sweaty meat bomb until you magically grow wings and reclaim your wits about you and then it’s smooth sailing forevermore.
But no, that’s not how it works. At least not for me and most others I know who ran from safety some time ago. Nope.
Every morning you keep waking up and deciding whether to jump off the cliff again today.
Maybe it’s the same cliff, maybe it’s not. You might even feel like desperately clawing at the sheer mountain side, mad for grip to scramble your way back towards whence you recently leapt.
But once you’ve hurled yourself off into the great adventure that is your life, the expansive thrill of doing so becomes pretty intoxicating. There’s usually just no honest way back, even when you’re watching the ground rise way too fast towards your face.*
Just keep leaping. You’ll find new ground before you know it.
Of course, you’ll soon be compelled to leap off that new ground, too.
It’s just a way of life, leaping off cliffs.
(*psssst … by the way, it’s an illusion. there actually is no ground. of course there’s no cliff, either. happy leaping!)
― Richard Bach, Running from Safety: An Adventure of the Spirit