The day I jumped out of an aeroplane, many years ago, was one of the best days of my life.
I had momentary superhero status – an opportunity to be Superman for a few minutes. Well at least that is the way I experienced it. Thank God for parachutes.
Skydiving was a result of a dare between friends over too many drinks at a party in my wild student days. I have always been a little bit of a thrill seeker with a daring sense of adventure. The more outrageous the challenge the more determined I would be. I would grab at every opportunity to go rock-climbing, abseiling, waterskiing, hiking, parasailing and the highlight being the weekend I went skydiving.
I was young, fit and healthy with an arrogant attitude to life – that I was totally invincible. Oh how I long to have those days back again.
Now, I cringe to think of all the irresponsible things I did during those years of my life. As my son is getting older and displaying more of my “no fear” characteristics, I’m beginning to appreciate the reasons my mother didn’t speak to me for almost two weeks after I took that leap out the plane, in complete defiance to her forbidding me to do it. And while I was obliviously jumping out of aeroplanes, another skydiver plummeted to his death on the same weekend when his ‘chute failed to open. Bear in mind that there were no mobile phones in those days so my parents spent hours worrying. Although I am sorry for causing them concern, I have no regrets. I wouldn’t swap that experience for anything in the world. Except one, of course, the privilege of being able to hug the people I love.
It was then that I developed a love for flying – the smaller the plane, the better. Perhaps somehow the risk of being in the air awakens my soul, giving me a sense of power and invincibility, yet still feeling vulnerable and exposed. It gives me a sense of freedom but controlled within the confines and abilities of the aircraft.
Sometime after my accident I mentioned to my dentist that I loved flying. You know dentists … they have a habit of asking you questions and then immediately sticking their instruments into your mouth so you can barely think of an answer without your eyes watering, let alone actually giving a proper answer.
Anyway unbeknown to me, she gave my number to one of her other patients who had a micro-light plane. A week later a complete stranger called and offered me a flip in his micro-light. He asked if he could come over for coffee so we could discuss the logistics.
He turned out to be tall, sexy and somewhat rugged looking. His thick, long, greying hair was pulled back neatly in a low ponytail showing off his piercing blue eyes and clean-shaven, chiselled features. He was so attractive that if I had been able to stand up, I probably would have gone weak at the knees anyway – so it’s a good thing I’m permanently seated.
His name was Moorrees, a true gentleman with impeccable manners, which immediately made me feel at ease. He was an intense character, a little bit of an introvert, but confident – quietly so – with incredible insights and depth. We arranged to go flying the following weekend.
At that stage, I was merely existing, day by day. I felt as if I had no fight left in me. All my life consisted of was eat, sleep, sit and more sit. That’s it! Sometimes I think that the only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth. I was definitely in a rut – forced by physical circumstances that I did not choose – and I may as well have been dead. Back then, I really wished I was some days. But I didn’t admit that to anybody.
Many of my friends and family had expressed their concern about me flying in an open aircraft and worried that I may fall out, especially since I had no balance and was unable to hold on to anything. I assured them that nothing like that could ever happen. To be honest, a part of me wished for exactly that to happen or worse – a fatal crash perhaps.
Selfishly, at the time, I did not give the feelings, or the life, of the pilot a second thought. I just didn’t care. As we sped along the bumpy runway which was an open field on a farm in Hazyview, I felt an overwhelming recklessness, yet strangely enough, also a sense of peace and calm. I think in my mind, I honestly believed that I was never going to come back from that flight. At least, I know, I hoped that with every fibre of my being. I think in that frame of mind, if I was able to commit suicide on my own, I would have. In my mind’s eye, I could see myself jumping out of that micro-light, despite knowing that this time there would be no parachute. Living life as a quadriplegic was bad. Being divorced on top of it was worse. I had had enough. I was ready to go.
As we took off into the air, the old adrenaline-junkie Tracy surfaced unexpectedly. I felt the thrill and excitement as my tummy dropped. For an instant I recognised myself again. I tried to ignore it but it wouldn’t go away. The feeling grew more intense as we ascended higher, and higher, into the air.
The views were breathtaking. We had a 360° view of the Lowveld in all its glory – green, lush and beautiful. We spent more than an hour in the air. We flew over magnificent banana and avo plantations as well as blue-gum-tree forests. We soared over game farms and we were privileged enough to spot some zebra, giraffe, impala and various other antelope in the bush as well as a few hippos in a dam.
For the first time in many months I felt so alive. I felt so free. More importantly, I felt so normal again. I think I was crying and laughing at the same time. Thank God I was sitting snugly behind Moorrees so he couldn’t see my extreme emotions. I don’t think he was even aware of the profound spiritual experience I was having right behind him.
Without me being aware of it at the time, that was most definitely the turning point for me.
I remember getting quite choked up as we came in to land, and I could see my empty wheelchair waiting for me alongside the runway. I could not believe that I had to get back into that thing.
But the moment I saw my little boy running up to me, the joy in my heart was overwhelming. I looked at him and realised how much he had grown and how much more adorable he’d become – all while I’d been wallowing in a pit of self-pity and misery.
Despite the fact that nothing had changed physically, my mindset began its journey of complete transformation that day. I started seeing life through different eyes. I began counting my blessings and I learned how to be grateful – again.
Moorrees made a special effort to make the experience memorable for me. He had mounted a camera on the tip of the wing especially wired to a control on the steering so that he could take pics of our flight. But the memories of that day are forever in my mind, heart and soul.
My motto in life is “Why Walk When You Can Soar”, inspired by my first flight in the air after my accident.
What was your turning point in your life? Do you have a motto you try to live your life by?
