You probably remember the story I told in a previous post about how I dove from atop the Armstrong Bridge railings as a rite of passage. The whole thing seems wondrous to me, even after all these years.
You surely remember I had just turned thirteen, and in Shady Grove, that called for one of our hero labors, similar to those performed by Hercules. If you don’t remember reading that post, for God's sake, don't look for it now. Finish this post first. You can always look for it later. To leave before finishing this post would constitute a lapse in judgment. No offense intended.
You’re probably thinking, But Genome, you’re not the type to go in for platform diving. You’re more inclined to sit-on-the-couch-and-watch-Olympic-diving. And you’re right. I absolutely am. My spirit animal is a housecat stretched out in a sunbeam, batting lazily at life’s demands. But occasionally, life sneaks up behind you, shoves you off the metaphorical (or literal) bridge, and forces you to conform.
In this case, it was my daredevil friend’s birthday. She’d always wanted to outdo the boys, and as a card-carrying member of the Friends Code of Honor, I couldn’t sit on the railing and let her go alone. Who else would hold her hair back when she inevitably puked mid-jump?
So there I was, standing on the top rail of the bridge, looking down at the water far below. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty, and I was 87% sure I’d made a huge mistake.
I’d love to say I faced my fears with grace and poise, but that would be a lie. I forced myself to go through with it, kicking, and screaming on the inside, and making a mental note to edit her out of my will. Still, I saw her giddy face, her uncontainable excitement as I climbed the rail, and I knew—against all my better instincts—I had to do it.
So, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and leaped. And you know what? It was…unreal. It was like hitting the reset button on my senses. Gravity and adrenaline teamed up to make me feel alive in a way I’d never experienced before. For a brief, glorious moment, I forgot all my worries. Plus, I managed to keep my breakfast down, which I consider a significant win.
Now, platform diving isn’t for everyone. In fact, for most people, it’s a firm no thanks. But the real takeaway here isn’t about flinging yourself off bridges—it’s about those moments in life when you just have to take a leap. Whether it’s diving, bungee jumping, asking for a raise, or admitting to someone you love them, there’s a thrill that comes with stepping out of your comfort zone. Life’s too short to sit back and wonder, What if?
That’s the type of thinking to convince Ms. Wonder and me to name 2025 The Year of Making Waves. We plan to climb up high enough to make a splash and then leap into a renewed way of life holding back nothing.
And let’s be honest: If you decide to plunge into the pool of limitless possibilities, maybe you’ll discover a hidden passion, snag that dream job, or sweep your true love off their feet. Or maybe, just maybe, you’ll find yourself high atop a bridge railing, wondering how you got talked into it, while your best friend screams joyfully beside you. Either way, you’ll have a story. And stories, my friends, are what make this whole wondrous, ridiculous ride worthwhile.