Falling
Prompt: How often do you leave your comfort zone?
“If all of your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump off too?” When I was younger, and my parents would use this phrase in a lecture, I’d always say no, scared to challenge them. Now, I say perhaps.
Maybe I’ll realize that I value the stable ground a lot more than the exhilarating seconds of free-fall. Maybe not. I won’t know until I try.
The phrase used by parents to keep their kids from following the reckless activities of their peers sends a powerful message. It tells kids that “jumping off cliffs” is rash, pointless, and simply, dumb.
What if I did jump, though? Not off the cliff built on peer pressure but one of risk, challenging me to reach new heights. I want to jump off mountains I have built up over the years, stones stacked on stones of fear and nervousness. Where do I find these cliffs? They are in places I least want to go. Places like a podium, where I was too afraid to share my ideas and the judgement that may come. Places like a basketball court where I was too nervous about letting down teammates. These mountains are the the highest ones, the ones where I have to slowly inch myself to the edge, worried that even a small breeze may knock me off the peak. In this sense, these are the worst cliffs of all: they are too large, too unsteady, and too unknown.
The feeling of looking below me, disregarding the noise in my head and jumping off the ledge with confidence is something I’ve come to embrace overtime. As my body surrenders itself to the mercy of the wind, my fear is stripped away and I am finally untethered from whatever fear was holding me back. Though I may have fallen a great height, somehow taking the leap helps me reach an even greater elevation.
So forget about avoiding cliffs. I want to jump.
“If all of your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump off too?” When I was younger, and my parents would use this phrase in a lecture, I’d always say no, scared to challenge them. Now, I say perhaps.
Maybe I’ll realize that I value the stable ground a lot more than the exhilarating seconds of free-fall. Maybe not. I won’t know until I try.
The phrase used by parents to keep their kids from following the reckless activities of their peers sends a powerful message. It tells kids that “jumping off cliffs” is rash, pointless, and simply, dumb.
What if I did jump, though? Not off the cliff built on peer pressure but one of risk, challenging me to reach new heights. I want to jump off mountains I have built up over the years, stones stacked on stones of fear and nervousness. Where do I find these cliffs? They are in places I least want to go. Places like a podium, where I was too afraid to share my ideas and the judgement that may come. Places like a basketball court where I was too nervous about letting down teammates. These mountains are the the highest ones, the ones where I have to slowly inch myself to the edge, worried that even a small breeze may knock me off the peak. In this sense, these are the worst cliffs of all: they are too large, too unsteady, and too unknown.
The feeling of looking below me, disregarding the noise in my head and jumping off the ledge with confidence is something I’ve come to embrace overtime. As my body surrenders itself to the mercy of the wind, my fear is stripped away and I am finally untethered from whatever fear was holding me back. Though I may have fallen a great height, somehow taking the leap helps me reach an even greater elevation.
So forget about avoiding cliffs. I want to jump.
I just started this today, and it's rather short, but I like the concept. What do you guys think I should add/ where should I expand?
honestly this is a weird suggestion but I like this idea too.. could you try incorporating this into your essay about the need to be perfect? I actually think it could work really well if you used the 1st, 3rd, and 4th paragraph of this essay... I think the rest would be confusing and consider a tangent but this could be the prompt you needed to keep the essay about feeling like you need to be perfect going.
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