Insight Adventures

“People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life… I think that what we’re really seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonance within our innermost being and reality, so that we can actually feel the rapture of being alive.” — Joseph Campbell

Standing on a thin metal suspension bridge less than 10 miles from Tibet, I can feel the warm wind on my face. 525 feet below is the rushing Bhote Kosi River, fed by melted snow from the holy Mountain Kailash, the home of the Hindu God Shiva.

This is my last full day in Nepal. My mind is wandering. A 10 mile jog and I could be in Tibet. I feel the pull. I went to Tibet 7 years ago as a solo traveler, but now visitation is highly regulated by the Chinese Government. When I was there, local Tibetans pulled me aside on several occasions, closing their doors and windows to show me their scars and pictures of their beloved leader, the Dali Lama. They wanted to make sure the world knew what was going on. It must have been wonderful to speak so openly to a stranger. I know that comfort. I can share deeply, intimately with a new travel friend because I know my thoughts and feelings are safe. Anonymity is a wonderful benefit of world travel.

On the bridge, I am waiting. However, I’m not waiting to cross like the locals behind me. There are no mule trains in my way. I’m waiting to jump. Silently, I converse with my God. Not a specific God, but more of a universal, all-knowing, something-greater-than-me-ness. “The intention of my jump is to release fear, to let go of the addiction of control and to surrender.” I repeat my intention in my head over and over. A camera man swings his lens into my face to record my pre-jump moments on video. “This is the beginning,” I tell him. He speaks only a little English, and despite the intense look on my face, I can tell he does not understand.

I feel the fear in my legs. My commitment to self has me terrified, not the jump. I was told there has never been a death here. However, today a part of me will die, gone forever. Old ways of being released through a modern sky burial of the soul. “94, 94.” I hear my name. “You jump now,” he tells me. 94, that’s my weight in Kilos. “Are you really 94 Kilos?” The jump master asks me three times in three different ways. I nod with a smile, trying to look confident as I wonder if maybe the scale is broken. “Very strong. big muscles,” he says in an attempt to quiet his own disbelief. “He’s just being thorough,” I tell myself. “Surrender to the moment, trust the scale, trust the jump master, trust the cord, trust myself and trust in the universal plan.” I have done all I can do, now it’s time to let go of control.

Slowly, methodically, I walk my 94 Kilos out to the edge of the steel platform. A tiny surge of adrenaline pumps through my veins and fills my heart with warmth. (Just a test, the system is working.) Smiling, I stand erect with my arms spread out in what Chris Cornell from Sound Garden calls the “Jesus Christ Pose.” “One…Two…Three.” My feet leave the platform… lightening, electrical synaptic ecstasy surges through my body, wind roaring past my ears like a jet engine, narrow green canyon walls blurred in my periphery; I’m falling through space, screaming out to the world a spontaneous proclamation, “I love you!   I LOVE YOU!   I  L O V E  Y O U!!!”

Suddenly, softly something grabs my ankles and catches me before I hit the water. “No!! I’m not done!” I protest. My wish has been granted, I rebound and fall again. “Just one more moment, one last second”… again I’m falling free. If this is what death feels like, I can’t wait.

Hanging limp, slowly spinning over the river, I am alive. I have made the connection. The river has become the ceiling and the floor is the endless sky below me. Tibet looks beautiful upside down. Softly, I am lowered down to lie on a padded table while my gear is removed. I could lie here all day reveling in my joy; seconds of real time converted into a life experience.

With wobbly legs, I walk up the canyon trail, alone. The sun is warm on my skin and the air is silent. I wonder if I’m dreaming. Passing a tiny little mountain stream, I splash cold water on my face. No, I’m not dreaming. I feel radiant and intensely alive, floating six inches off the ground. I pass through a local village and smile at a farmer silently watching me. I feel like he knows how I’m feeling, like he’s been there.

This is what I came for. This is why I came to Nepal. All days on my trip have led to this moment. I am no longer afraid. Fear- to surrender- to love… the formula… the experience, branded on my psyche, permanently. Any time I have doubt, I know I can return to this moment for guidance… Trust, Courage, and Faith. Just take the leap, literally.

PS. Below is a video of canyoning in the same region. One hand for the camera, one hand for the break!

In loving Service,    Jesse