When I arrived at the northern Minnesota cabin, my uncle’s home looked calm and inviting.
I had no idea that 24 hours later I would be jumping off a cliff into a lake.
Later, I heard about the jumping rock while devouring a hearty plate of spaghetti. I didn’t determine to do it then. I looked forward to seeing the rock, and possibly watching somebody else jump off.
After a solid night’s sleep, morning activities, and more food, we piled into the boat and sped across the lake.
We arrived at the rock, which stood three stories high above the sparkling waters.
I stood there at the top. It seemed like half an hour before I got my courage up.
After I decided to jump, I ran and leaped into the air. When I landed in the water, my hands stung. But otherwise, nothing hurt.
When I swam back to the boat, smiling Julia let down a rope and I climbed up. Grandma and Uncle Nick said, “Congratulations!”
It was too windy to talk on the ride home. I was left to my own thoughts.
“If I had the chance, I might do it again. Then again, I might not.”
“There is a big difference in life between a jump and a fall. A jump is about courage and faith, something the world is in short supply of these days. A fall is –just a fall.” --Ian Morgan Cron “They say: Think twice before you jump. I say: Jump first and then think as much as you want!”--Osho “He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who stand and watch.” --Jean-Luc Godard