ForaslongasIcanrememberIhavebeenafraidofheights.

Once,whenIwasrockclimbing,I
climbedupanduptheartificialrockandwhenIreachedthetop,Iclimbeddownanddownuntil
myfeetwerefirmlyplantedonsolidground,
nottrustingthebelaytolowerme
.WhenIwasin
thefifthgrade,Isplitmylipjumpingoffatreehouseontoanoldtrampoline.Beforethat,whenI
wasontheswimteam,Iwouldntjumpoffofthehighdive,
notafraidtomakethelongtrekup,
buttoavoidthedreadedfreefalldownintothedeepdepthsoftherecreationalswimmingpool
.
Whatifallofthewatersuddenlydisappeared?WhatifIneverstoppedfalling?Thesequestions
hauntedmymindasIstoodatthetopof
TheDreamweaver
lastsummer.
TheDreamweaver
isa
familyfriendshouseboatthatweliveonwhenwegotoLakePowellforaweekeverysummer.
Likemosthouseboats,
TheDreamweaver
wasequippedwithatrustyslideanddivingboardoff
thebackend.Mybrother,Derek,didflipsandtricksonthedivingboardandintothelakewhere
hewasgreetedwithalargesplashandthenicerefreshingfeelingofthedeepgreenlakewater
shieldinghimfromthehotsummersun.Hehootedandholleredwhentheotherkidsjoinedhim,
cannonballingintothelake,andsplishsplashingaroundwhileIstoodatoptheboat,near
The
Dreamweavers
edge,pickingatthefadingblueandpurplefabriconthesunshade.Hey,
Derek!Passmethesquirtgun!Icheered,laughing.Notuntilyoujumpin,noob!Hecalled
back.Mysmilefaded.Isighedandwalkedovertothedivingboard.Ilookeddownovertheedge
andthetenfootdropthenmultipliedtoonehundredfeetintothedepthsofmurkywater.
Ohno!
Nottoday!Imtooyoung,itsnotmytime!
Myreasonablevoiceofconsciousnesssupplied.

I
ranbacktotherailing,grippingitsotightlythatmyknucklesturnedaswhiteasthesunscreen
batteringmyface.WhatifattheexactmomentIjumped,gravityreversedandIwentflyinginto
outerspace?Iwonderedifalienshaddivingboards.Ihopednot.Grace!Hurry!Cmon,jump
in!Derekcalled,sendingspecklesofwatertowardsmewiththewavingsquirtgun.After
stickingmytongueoutatDerek,Itookadeepbreath,closedmyeyes,andletgooftherailing.
I
thinkIcan.IthinkIcan.IthinkIcan.
Mytrustychildhoodmantrahadneverfailedmebefore
andIwasconfidentthatIcouldrelyonittosafelyguidemeonmyjourneyfromthediving
boardtothewater.IftheLittleBlueEnginecouldsummitthehill,Icouldletgravitydoits
magic.Imusteredallofmycourageandtookashakystepforward.Ihadnotoystocheermeon,
notastyfoodstogettothechildren.IonlyhadtheuncertainvoiceinheadtellingmethatifI
jumpedtoofarandlandedonanunseenrockbelowthesurfacethatIwouldbefishfood.
Ididnt
wanttobefishfood.
However,Ididwantthesquirtgun.
IthinkIcan.
ThenextstepItookwas
moreconfident.IcouldntwaittoseeDereksfacewhenIsprayedhimwiththesquirtgun!
I
thinkIcan
.ThenIjumped.Iopenedmyeyesandscreamed.Iwasfalling!
Iwasfalling!
No,I
wasflying!Ispreadmyarmsandflappedthem,notcaringthatIlookedlikeaflailingbird.Iwas
flying,IwasflSMACK!Ihadbellyfloppedandswallowedafewmouthfulsoflakewater.
WhenIresurfaced,sputteringandcoughingandholdingmybrightredtummy,Icouldnthelp
butsmile.IgrabbedthesquirtgunandsprayedDerek.Ididit!Ihadjumped!I
wasabird!Iwas
thecaptainofmyveryownplane!
Ilaughedwithsomuchvigorthatafewfishhadscattered,
swimmingrapidlyaway.Ihadjumped,allbecause
IthoughtIcould.IthoughtIcould.