PREFACE

“FIVE!”

A crowd gathers behind me and cries out in unison. My fingers clutch the railing of the metal bridge. The platform on which I stand leads to empty space. On either side of the 160-foot river canyon, peaceful snowcapped trees taunt me with their calm. I turn to the crowd and craft an exaggerated fearful expression, then force a smile.

“FOUR!”

Once they get to one, I need to jump. I have to jump. It’ll be so anticlimactic if I don’t. Everyone knows you can’t back out of a countdown. Even if I jump five seconds after the fact, it won’t matter—a countdown is a countdown.

“THREE!”

My toes creep over the edge of the bridge to which I’m attached by only a thick bungee cord. I glance toward the picturesque mountain backdrop, and for a moment I forget my current reality, lost in appreciation of the beauty that surrounds me.

“TWO!”

The cheer from the crowd jolts me back to the task at hand. I peer past my toes. One hundred sixty feet below, the river eagerly awaits my descent.

“ONE!”

I tell the muscles in my legs to contract. They don’t want to. My precious seconds of leeway are about to run out. If I don’t jump, I’ll hear the sighs of a disappointed crowd. The people who are rooting for me now will suddenly lose interest. Little do they know, this is the most important jump of my life.

I have no idea what the next year will hold, where my different jobs will lead, what I’ll end up doing, or who I’ll meet. I wonder if I’ll get enough job offers, where I’m going to sleep while on the road, how I’m going to travel from city to city, and how I’ll support myself for an entire year without pay. Most important, I question if I’ll be able to heed the insights I gain when my journey is over. The uncertainty is loud, my self-doubts determined, fear pervasive. But I’m excited. I’ve made excuses for too long. Ready or not, it’s time to take the leap.

“BUNGEE!”

I take a deep breath, check my harness one last time, and step off the bridge.