Today My Life is a Rope Swing

When I was between the age of say 18 and 20 I was out with some friends on a hot summer night doing what teenagers do best. We’d all had a few drinks and were driving around when one of the guys suggested that we all go down to the Clinton rope swing. I am sure this was just an attempt to get the girls to take their shirts off, so as you can imagine I was all for it. I still remember all of the players in this act, though some I have not thought of for years. Some are still friends, some I have no idea where they are, and one has even left us all.

There are few times in my life that I can remember feeling so alive. The Clinton rope swing sits high above a lake behind a power plant and is much like thousands of rope swings that all teenagers need to swing off of as part of our rite of passage. A dark lake far enough away from people that our loud cries and laughter would go unnoticed. We walked down the path to the sacred spot all trying to out-do the other with a scary tale while pretending that we were the only one that was not afraid of the darkness. We arrived at the landing and found the rope in the almost pitch blackness. A bottle of booze was passed around to give us all that last dose of courage we needed.

What courage did we all need? Some needed courage to be seen naked, others needed it to take the swing; still others had need of courage to simply fit in. Me, well I guess I needed simply to pretend I knew what life felt like. For those of you who know me I wear glasses and contacts and without my ‘corrective lenses’ I am pretty much blind as a bat. So when I climbed that high platform and removed my glasses from my face I realized that I was looking straight out into total black. I could hear my friends around me but not see their faces. I knew the direction of the tress and the water, but like shadow on shadow I could see no outline. Had I not made this swing 100 times during the day? What did I have to fear? 

NOTHING…. So I swung… My arms held me up like never before since I could not see how low my feet actually hung. My body stiffened and I could feel the air whip past me as I swung out into the emptiness. I knew my only hope would be to simply let go as soon as I felt the rope start to swing back. The noise of everything diminished as I swung out. My friends' voices faded out to that of the soft murmur of a voice reading to a baby. Hold on…Hold on…NOW… and I let go of the rope and looked down. I saw nothing, I felt nothing. The wind had stopped blowing past my ears. I could have been 1,000 feet in the air or only inches from the water, I knew not.  I heard someone yell “HOLY SHIT” and then I was surrounded by warm water. I was sinking and sinking fast. I did not know which direction was up, and where I thought the sounds of the earth had stopped before, I now found myself hearing only the soft rush of bubbles fill my ears. I lingered only for a moment then kicked myself up to the surface. With a breath and a yell I broke out of the water and the world of sounds came rushing back, to the point where I thought the loud sounds of laughter would deafen me. My friends were calling my name and it was the sound of their voices that told me what direction to swim in. I don’t recall another time in my life when the sounds of someone else’s voice brought me home.

Today my friends I again let go of that rope and take a plunge into the darkness.  I hope that there is water below and friends on the shore.