254: Friday 11th - 256: Sunday 13th September
When you stand on an 8m high dive board and look down at the sparkly turquoise rectangle of a pool water beneath you, you might not hear your own thoughts for the loud splashes of butterflies wings inside your stomach. In fact, you might not have much thoughts anyway, just a primal voice of your subconscious that tells you to get the hell out of that board!
You might suddenly be so aware of the porous surface of the board under your bare feet that your try to grip to it with every cell of your skin, careful not to slip as if a precise timing of the jump could silence the fluttering wings just a little.
It's not a good feeling. Somewhere between slightly nauseous and ready to run but going nowhere.
That's the memory of moments before the first few dives I did in my early teens. Then there is another memory... A much shorter one when decision is made, I put my arms above my head as told to lessen the impact my head will make with the surface of the water. Elbows just ever so slightly bent, forearms as protectors, hands folded one into another, hooked by thumbs whilst making sure fingers don't become intertwined. Apparently they can break upon impact. I remember wandering many times if this was even true. Anyone knows?
Then my favourite couple of seconds. When everything becomes a silence. No more butterflies. No more anything. Just the blue target that must be reached in a space of time no longer than a single breath. Which I hold anyway. The flight that seemed such an obstacle - I barely notice. Breaking smooth and clean into the pool, tearing it apart for a split second, then another split second of invincibility opening my eyes and seeing again.
Growing something from a comfortable, pocket size and safe unit to a bigger, more ambitious project comes with good few questions and doubts...
It involves putting a lot of trust in people involved, making assumptions and hoping that what planned to happen will happen...As I reflect on the last week, the events take me back to those pre-dive moments ;)
Perhaps it's an addiction to that split second euphoria when you realise you have not in fact died, broke fingers, split your head. Perhaps it is the excitement of a challenge. I am not sure.
My favourite moment of all though is not the blurry, euphoric eye opening, not even hitting the water, not launching in the air.
It's that moment of quiet acceptance of all consequences, all good and all bad. The peaceful, mini courage that comes from nowhere and lets me go ahead.
That split second moment of a decision to go for it. The silence of the butterflies.