Thursday, October 30, 2014

A Leap of Faith - South Point, Big Island

I am standing on the verge of the cliff, eye lock on the horizon that seems to stretch across my entire field on view in the most spectacular fashion. It is a lovely day here in Kona, Hawaii. I can see the light and diaphanous clouds lining across the sapphire sky. Below the pristine vault of heaven lays the sumptuous ocean. The sunlight lit up the clear turquoise water, as the rays of light penetrates the fragile surface of the sea. It's so strange right? To think about when you are standing on the edge of a cliff, you're standing on the edge of a continent, facing an abyss you know so little about. 






Ka Lae (Hawaiian: the point), also known as South Point, is the southernmost point of the United States. It is a well-known spot for avid divers and adventurers. It is approximately forty feet high and could be up to fifty feet when it’s low tide.

I look down and the turbulent waters of the Pacific lie below, waiting to welcome me into their midst. I can smell the saltiness of the air in my nose and taste it in my mouth. In the water are people that have already jumped. While I cannot see individual beings, I know that my friends are in there, waiting for me to join them in the infinite Pacific Ocean. They have already challenged the fifty feet high cliff, and it’s my turn now.  

I take a deep breath, gaze at the everlasting ocean for one last time and let myself go. My feet leave the cliff and I am soaring through the air. For a brief moment, the force of my leap propels me upward towards the sky before the earth regains its grasp on me and I start to fall. Time seems to slow down as I plummet towards the earth at what the recording will later show to be lighting fast speed. My body seems to realise all a sudden that it has not stopped falling, and a rush of adrenaline sweeps through my body.

The exhilaration of jumping off of a cliff is without equal. The adrenaline from falling creates a sense of euphoria, making me feel as though I could do anything. With the adrenaline, however, comes a feeling of fear that threatens to overpower me. Doubts start to cloud my mind, useless though they are at this late stage. I could be dashed against the rocks, I could be swept into the channel that goes under the cliff, I could be pulled out by the powerful undertow, or I could even drown. These questions permeate my thoughts as the adrenaline continues to course through my body. This is the feeling, I realise, that thrill seekers seek. The closeness to death, the feeling of danger, the feeling of not knowing what’s going to happen next. For, in truth, adrenaline is nothing more than the world’s most readily available drug. It is addictive. It is intoxicating. It is dangerous. But for better or worse, it must come to an end. I close my eyes and brace myself.

Piercing through the warm water, my whole body is submerged into the water. The momentum carries me until I am practically sitting on the ocean floor. I pause there for a moment, letting the water’s steady pulse wash over me before springing out my legs. I rise to the surface and can finally feel the cool air brushing against my skin . I am alive. I feel alive. This is home.

I look up, and the cliff seems smaller than it was when I was up there. It makes sense though. Everything is so little when compared to the ocean. The ocean makes you put your whole life into perspective. It humbles you and makes you feel grateful for everything you have.

It’s in the ocean where I find myself.  To me, the sea is like a person - like a child that I’ve known for a long time. When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea. The sea drowns my worries out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise, and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused. It’s like a message in a bottle; my mind is set free once I am in the sea.

True, the ocean might make you feel scared and alone, I understand that; for it is a mighty beast after all. But darling, the world has its troubles too. For how else do you suppose, that the ocean got so blue?

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