metaphors and canyon swings

I take my metaphors where I can get them. And somehow, falling 110 meters into a canyon and then swinging for another couple hundred meters seemed as good a stand in as any for the leap I’ve taken in my career. To tell the truth, I was not sure what the connection was. But it was pretty clear at least the Shotover Canyon Swing in Queenstown was a physical instantiation of what I had done to my career: a jump into the abyss. I am not sure what exactly my thinking was. But I could tell you what it was not. My thinking was definitely not that if I survive this physical leap in the abyss I will be alright with the career leap. It just seemed, well, fitting, that if I was going to jump in the one situation I jump in the other. Also, I think that if you go to Rome, you see the Vatican, and if you got to Queenstown, you jump into a canyon.

So as soon as we got back from hike I made my way over to the Canyon Swing office and singed up. At this stage, the whole thing was unreal. You are putting your name on a piece of paper and paying some money. It is all theoretical courage. Even watching videos of previous leapers really could not impact my state of mind since I had not personally experienced this situation. I was told at the office that due to the lateness of my signing up I had roughly a half hour until the place closed to cancel my jump, and that they would jump in any weather.

I slept fine, again not thinking too much about it I because it all seemed unreal. But when I woke up in the morning the reality that I was going to do something incredibly stupid did it hit pretty much first thing and put me in a rather foul mood. To make things worse, it’s raining pretty steadily when I get up, and I momentarily contemplated using this as an excuse to back off, but knew really that I could not

The image I had in my mind at that time is one I saw on a biography of Buster Keaton, the silent film comedian. At one point in his career, things are really not going well: there are business troubles, women troubles. And they are out there filming a stunt where a house has to fall on him, and there is a hole where a window is that is supposed to be the spot that saves him. And they show Buster’s face as he is filming this stusnt, and you can tell he really does not care if that house fall on him. Something like that spirit was in me as I prepare for the jump. There is a real sense that the worst case scenario would not be so bad.

At the office, there are two other guys besides myself who are there to jump, one is from Amsterdam and one if from Germany. Both are young strapping guys in their twenties with girlfriends in tow. I am glad I am doing this with other guys. Yesterday as I singed up it was a group of young girls that was heading out. This just seems more fitting. The rain is coming down pretty heavily as its time to depart. We all jump into the van. Our driver is a 30-ish affable rogue named, fittingly, Kramer.

It’s only about a ten minute drive up to Shotover Canyon and on the way they show us a dvd of various styles of jumping. Kramer suggests jumping off yourself particularly if you have never done the jump because it’s more challenging than if they just cut you off. When I get there, however, I ask to be cut away, but they say that they cannot do this in the rain, although I am not sure whether they are just shitting me or not, because when I give into their reply they say, “you’re easy to convince.” I reply, it doesn’t really matter, does it.

It’s raining even more heavily and as they ask who wants to go first I volunteer, figuring the rain will only get worse. Plus I think if I wait around I might consider backing out. So they hook me up and I am not really listening to what they are saying but when we get to the edge Kramer and his co-worker start to banter with me, joking about hitting the water, the solidity of land. I mention my philosophy books and in particular the one about stoicism and how it teaches you to maintain control in all circumstances and they mention that this will give me a chance to practice what I preach. They briefly try to talk me into a jump called the “pinhead” which they claim I can use on the back cover of my next book, but I demur and say I will simply step off. They hook me up the cable, pull away the safety rope and it’s time to go. I say, you just step off and they say, yes and that’s exactly what I do

And before I know it I am flying, with my eyes closed. It is like a dream, really and I would not be surprised to wake up in my bed, but instead I am jerked to a stop and then start swinging across the canyon and soon am being hauled back up to the top. On return, someone mentions it was the most blasé step off they had ever seen.