When I took the leap, arms outstretched, chest bowed and head held high, I can say without any doubt, for the first time in my life, I felt free. The leap itself, although mere seconds, remains to this day, the single most defining memory I have. Imagine a waterfall and you are standing behind the cascade and all that you see is vague, fuzzy, ear pounding and colorless. You fear the water until pushed and on the other side is peaceful quiet, vivid color and where there was wet cloak heaviness, now, only the lightness of a bird in flight, bones hollow, wings spread, endless vistas verdant and lush.
I had heard, and I expected, to feel regret. Instead, as strange as this may sound, a rebirth. The world I knew could not leap with me, would not dare to dare as I had dared and I felt a smile I could not repress, a joy I could not contain, a happiness as water to the fish, as air to the bird, as wisdom in the child. I won't say that time stood still. I was well aware of falling, but to fall without fear, to embrace death and in the embracing of death to experience life on a plane beyond my previous comprehension effected what I can only describe as an internal expansion, as if before I had to define the world with only a handful of words, now I saw with the eyes of a thesaurus, my mind burning in a light seen without eyes.
Then I hit the water (laughter here), and, I shite you not, I felt like a baby yanked from the womb, the sting of life upon me, my sentence served. Took three days to get the taste of salt out of my nose and I would by lying if I didn't say I enjoyed every sneeze and snort and ache and throb, which, much to my dismay, began to fade as the color from a rose plucked from the bush.
14 comments:
Mona, that last line is me tipping my hat to you. :-)
You know what the best part about this is? That this is the present time that he is describing from the future, that not only did he not manage to do himself any real or lasting damage but instead in taking the decision to deny himself life, he found/re-found it. Good to be reminded once in a while, of how precarious it is, how it can all disappear so quickly, only in appreciating this fact can one truly live as one ought. I remember writing in a comment to J once that I 'envied' him, not the experience and all that it entailed, but the knowledge, the outlook, having survived made him better equipped so to speak to keep those thoughts at the forefront, the importance of every minute, just what a gift of indeterminable length life is, where the rest of us in the day to day living of it are wont to forget, sometimes, oftentimes. Wonderful description of his change as he compares it to standing behind a waterfall and coming through it, beautiful. The leap itself reminds me of the opening passage of one of Armstrong's. Just as moving and enlightening and inspiring. Lush is that whole passage, visual, awakening, like a douse as though the waterfall was real and knowledge has come to us too, reminders anyway, in the sharing. To hear him describe the joy that caught him as he fell, so very well written, the wonder and appreciation transmits, more than that, it leaps off the page, from where he sat last night under the moon to hearing him speak of being reborn, hearts will be singing in every reader this morning to see outcome, to join his own. The sting of life, fabulous expression.
Fated, all of it, I will insist, :-), all of it, seems so right, so as it was meant to be. How could he go on, embrace, without first dealing with his past, and not to say that it is a done deal, but what a clever boy, in one fell swoop, in the decision that there was no way forward, no way for him, in the decision to end it all, he seems finally able to meet with the here and now. These last couple have been a rollercoaster from high to low and back again, infinitely, beautifully touching, real, natural, so real it was like he'd lassoed us, pulling us through the sand, onto the rock, into the desolation and feelings of hopelessness and finally here, to feeling his glee, his happy making happy. This may be misunderstood, but much respect to him in the act, he was steadfast, resolute, his questions were honest, real, his intent was clear, that he did not succeed was merely a lucky break. As he said of whether those left behind would care, or something like that, it was not his frailing problem. We may all of us be able to imagine what such feelings are like, but you are able to convey them within these chapters, as Trev, with such conviction, it's small wonder this story embeds itself so thoroughly, it is as real as any story lived that could be told, in short, feelings above thoughts, he made himself felt all the way. Excellent!
As Em might say, he is stronger than he thinks. :-D
As always, your comments are the push behind my swing. :-)
now I saw with the eyes of a thesaurus
Often your writing says more and more to me as I read it again and again, but this one phrase jumped out and grabbed me as something I have felt.
Dana, my writing is an acquired taste. So glad to see you returning and taking another sample. Be warned, however, if you read too much, you just might get hooked. :-D
Thanks for the kind words. Always deeply appreciated. :-)
A toast to mothers. God help them. :-D
:) I salute you in return!
This death is very symbolic. It is like I said in my last comment, shedding off your old skin & acquiring a new. Its a death of the belief that will burn you as you are. But if you can still stand tall and get away with this death alive, then you are reborn as new, reborn as better...
& yes... Indeed your gestalt changes too...
This could be a turning point for Trev. I wish the boy luck.
Mona, thanks for all the kind and wonderful comments. Very much appreciated.
Came here via Dust Bunny. Wonderful writing and images. I shall return. I particularly enjoyed this...
"a happiness as water to the fish, as air to the bird, as wisdom in the child. "
Lovely.
Mimi, welcome to DT and The Story. Hope to see again. Thank you for the kind words. Always very much appreciated. :-)
Tree, I never thought that I would read a story of an attempted suicide and find beauty. I am speechless. There is nothing that I could add, or comment on that would bring anything to this as perfect as it was.
Simply brilliant.
Jen
Compact rewrite of the comment that I lost:
The writing is still lovelier for every time that I read it. The clearly drawn image of his falling, arms outstretched, open to feel, open to let go, open to embrace, swooping from high to low, there is such gracefulness in that vision, and a great sense of the freedom you cite, the leaving behind of all that sat on the rock with him, of release, and the release of the necessity of having to consider the consequences beyond that release, of the moment past the current mattering not, and with those thoughts moving through him, cleansing, as the wind moves past him, clearing, as he is suspended in those final moments so he believes, are graphic, uplifting. Elevation in descent. This passage is so vibrant, colour bursting forth exactly as you describe it doing, where there was wet cloak heaviness, now, only the lightness of a bird in flight, bones hollow, wings spread, endless vistas verdant and lush, your compositional clout, your literary literalness, your powers of description, magnificent. The above as the rest of that comment said the same. Magnificent.
Jen, your comment, as brief as it was, says it all and touches my heart like warm pancakes on a winter day. Thank you. Very much. :-)
Thank you Sunshine. If your comments were gold in my rucksack, I would be unable to lift it to my back and you would see me dragging it behind me, no matter the effort, no matter the cost, no matter how hungry or thirsty, the rucksack is coming with me. :-D
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