Close your eyes and JUMP!

My family used to go vacation at Lake Powell every summer. One of my favorite things to do was get in the speedboat and go to Rainbow Bridge, where we would climb the cliffs and jump off into the water. It was so fun—but also incredibly scary.

I remember climbing the cliffs for the first time, excited and terrified. The closer we got to the top, the faster my heart raced. At the top, I watched as each person stepped to the edge…and jumped.

I was nervous. Would I be able to do it? Could I really turn back now? The water below seemed SO far away. The line of people jumping was getting shorter and shorter. My heart was practically beating out of my chest. It was my turn. There was no way I could launch my little body off the cliff with my eyes open—it went contrary to everything inside of me screaming, “get back from the edge! save yourself!”

I closed my eyes, and jumped.

SPLASH!!!

When I finally resurfaced, a permanent grin had found residence on my face. I did it! In that moment, closing my eyes was the key to turning off my freaking-out-brain, telling me I shouldn’t jump.

I had discovered a loophole to doing things that really scared me. I didn’t make that connection til I was much older, but I have used that same loophole, metaphorically speaking or not, to do all kinds of things—one pretty recently.

There’s a choral group near me—a grown up, marvelous choir. I have been to a few concerts, and they are amazing. I also love singing, especially with a group. I decided to get more information. I clicked around their website, noting the rehearsal times and commitment level. I wondered if I could do it? I continued to read all the things, then out of my peripheral vision I saw a request-an-audition link. I hovered over the link. In rapid-fire fashion, my brain went to work.

This is stupid. I’m too busy. I need to be home. Brian operates on Thursday and sometimes he gets home late. I’ll never make it. I’m being selfish. The time isn’t right. I’ll think about this later. I don’t have time. I’m not good enough.

I closed my eyes. Well, I actually blinked really slowly…but it gave me enough time to click the link.

JUMP!

In that space, that moment where I had jumped but not yet landed, I filled out the interest form. I didn’t breathe. I pushed send, and then gasped in horror. Oh, what had I done?

A few days later, I got an email.

I had to send in a video of me singing. Then, if I passed that part, I had to sing in a live audition.

Holy moly.

The email came November 22, and the video submission deadline was January 2. Whew! I had plenty of time. But each day that came and went was just another kid jumping off the cliff at Rainbow Bridge. The looming deadline crept closer and closer and closer. Then I got a reminder email—there were only two weeks left…only four days left! I felt sick.

I methodically gathered my light, my music, and my phone. I locked my bedroom door and set up in my bathroom. I pushed record on my phone and started singing. UGH. If you don’t like the way your voice sounds, you should try singing TWO songs in your bathroom while staring at yourself in your phone camera. It was rough…and humbling. I recorded and deleted ten million videos. Maybe not quite that many…but pretty close. By this time, my kids were getting restless and asking what I was doing? My audition video was not as good as I wanted it to be, but my voice was tired. I was running out of time.

JUMP!

I squeezed my eyes shut and submitted the video.😳

On January 3, I opened an email inviting me to come audition live.

I accepted.

January 6 was my assigned date. The day felt sluggish and racing, simultaneously. I was out of sorts. I did the tasks of the day, even fixing dinner and sitting down to eat it, but my mind was far away, almost detached. Was I having an out-of-body experience? I got into my car and drove to the audition. I sat in the car for a moment, looking down at the water that appeared SO FAR AWAY. People kept jumping off the cliff. Oh, HELP. My toes hung over the edge, gripping with all their strength to the warm rocks. It was my turn. The door opened and I walked through it, blinking as slowly as I could.

jump…

As I walked back to my car, I felt amazing. No matter what the audition results were, I tried! Instead of believing all the reasons why I couldn’t do it, I decided to say,

“I think I can do this.”

I closed my eyes and jumped.

And for those of you wondering—I made it.