Stories Vol 17: Alive

 

 

 

There is no expression more horrifying and beautiful than the look of fear. Horrifying because in that moment the emotion is flashed onto a face, there is no hiding it. The emotions are raw and serve to remind us that we are not invincible, we are fragile. The panic emanating as an after effect from our initial encounter with what we perceive to be danger is our subconscious telling us to yield. It cannot calculate the likelihood of survival, while we may live for multiple lives, our body knows all too well that it lives for just one.

 

That is the beauty in Fear. While it serves as a way to protect us from danger, it is more importantly a reminder that we must live for this life and this life alone. We can know only one thing for certain and that is that we have one life to live, one life to dream and one life to act.

 

The primary purpose for returning back from Pai so quickly was to join our friends, Fleur and Vanessa, on a trip to a local quarry to cliff dive. I've only gone cliff diving once before but the memory of the feeling during the jump radiates through my thoughts, so vivid is the memory that it finds me from time to time and awakens or rather ignites a need to run…a need to take to risk…a need to jump.

 

Mid jump, Italy, July 2011

It was now Thursday Morning, we had spent our first night back in Chiang Mai swimming and relaxing at the opening of our Hostel's pool bar down the street. The plan for the day was to get breakfast and in the afternoon rent motorbikes to drive to the quarries. My excitement for the adventure was high through out the night and kept me at the edge of consciousness as the sky slowly shifted from a dark starry haze to a bright cloud filled grey. As the minutes and hours passed from the moment I went to bed to the moment I woke up, my thoughts focused on the different fears I had found myself pouring through on the ride back form Pai.

 

I couldn't stop thinking through the mistakes I had made with people. A fear that up until this point I felt I couldn't confront.  I don't regret moving back to Minnesota after college, taking a job at Target or at General Mills or doing one major over another while in school. What I regret is that people have not always seen the best of me and in those moments.

 

I hate that while growing up, insecure about hiding my ADHD, Creativity and Sexuality, I was angry. I let my fear of not being accepted for who I was consume me. I let my fear of never being able to have the things in life most people take for granted, children/family/marriage, create resentment. In elementary school, I conformed to acts of bullying. I was 8 and knew it was wrong to call him booger boy like everyone else, but I did it anyway. I was 11 and knew it was wrong to call her gangly. I was 14 and knew it was wrong to call attention to his misunderstanding. I spent so much of my life using my ability to read people's insecurities as a way to hide my own from the world around me.

 

Shortly after my 23rd birthday I finally had the moment of clarity, the moment where I stopped running from the panic and resentment my fears had created. Sitting on a dock on Lake Kabetogama with my sister, Krissy, gazing up at the crystal clear constellations and murkiness of the milkyway I turned to my sister and told her, "So… I'm not straight."

 

Her answer was simple, "I know. I've always known."

 

She like everyone else, had seen the fear on my face that I tried so desperately and for so long to hide. Unlike everyone else, she didn't need to have confirmation that she identified the reason behind the fear correctly. Hearing no judgment in her voice, I wanted her to understand my fear. I went on to explain to her that because of who I am, I recognized that I may never find love, may never have children and may never be accepted.

 

Her response was a force of change in my life…" Morgan, you are unlike anyone I have ever met in my life. People have the most polarizing reactions to you. Either they love or absolutely hate you. There is no in between. You think differently and this will always terrify some people but I truly believe you were meant to do great things."

 

Feeling so relieved at the acceptance she had shown me, I made a decision to change. I didn't want to be the person who constantly tore people down. I wanted to help give people that same feeling of acceptance I felt there on the dock.

 

While that moment was incredibly significant in my life it did not remove the fear of not being accepted. For the present, this is a part of me. It's not something I'm proud of but by choosing to not ignore it I am actively working to change how I cope with it. I am learning and it is a process filled with mistakes and moments in need of humility. My old defense mechanisms are stubborn to change.

 

I hate that I was scared to show vulnerability to the first guy I ever went on dates with. Rather than tell him how I truly felt and potentially have it not be mutual, I deflected any opportunity to let him in. Feeling my heart beat rise with excitement when he knocked at my door, I'd sit calmly reading on my couch and say the doors open. I needed to act cool. When he told me I meant more than just a hookup, I told him to stop being a girl. When he sent the final text to end what ever it was we had and he didn't want to lead me on as he wasn't looking for a relationship, I responded in text "no worries, I thought it was a hookup." The truth was that I had started to care about him. My regret is that I was his first and in my fear/weakness he will always remember me as not caring. I stole a memory from this guy that should have been a really good one.

 

I hate that upon moving back to Minneapolis, I gave up trying to include two of my closest high school friends in my adult life. The stories they had of us growing up were reminders of the anger I had felt during that time and the deuchebaggery that I had often unleashed. More truthfully, the idea of telling them I had omitted a piece of myself from them was terrifying. I cared so deeply about them and the idea of admitting to them that I had lied was more difficult than the act of abandoning them. One of them I eventually let in and the other I wish I had. He helped me get through the high school bull shit. I haven't seen him in two years but even as I am on the cusp of moving, I wonder if it is too late to say sorry. Is it too late to fix it back to where we were. I pushed them away.

 

I tell you all this as to help you understand the effect of traveling alone.  I had spent the previous day and night alone amongst my thoughts. These are not all of the incidences my mind wandered through but only a few. It is strange where your mind goes when left to its own devices. You try to stop thinking about one thing and end up focused on something you had tucked away.

 

On the morning of the trip to the quarry, everything passed by so incredibly quickly. We didn't do anything in particular that made the time pass. Tom found me early in the morning around 7am typing away in the hostel common room with a cup of coffee. It had become a ritual for me, to sit there and write when no one is moving or awake yet. The 18 year old UK gap students are all still tuckered out from the previous nights party. The recently out of college crowd is either moving quickly to get out of the hostel and on the road to do something or waiting for their gap year friends to wake up and greet the day. It's peaceful and serene.

 

Recognizing our friends would not be up anytime soon, Tom and I decided to go for Breakfast at a local café and meet our crew at Jane's Restaurant around 10 or 11. We figure they will be there. Vanessa and Fleur had fallen in love with the sweet and big sisterly comfort the owner afforded them. Vanessa as a designer loved the fusion of the restaurant and studio and had spent hours in Chiang Mai chatting with the two artist sisters that owned the place.

 

When we finally arrived at Jane's sure enough there were Vanessa and Fleur. They had picked up strays. The young British woman with a giant colorless bird tattoo encasing her leg with the word wanderlust sat quietly eyeing us up at as we entered the patio. She was weary of us and had a look of distrust to her that could only be the result of some sort of male betrayal in her past. She wore her tattoos, well done but dark makeup, and converse like punk rock traveler badge of honor. I watched her through out breakfast, she fascinated me.

 

The other two blokes at the table were David, a tall curly haired strawberry blonde musician from LA and a short very clean cut looking redhead in flowing elephant pants named Paddy. I don't actually know his name, he just kept calling himself a paddy due to his Irish Nationality. Both were gingers in their prime.

 

Normally, I am an incredibly talkative person but this table was hilarious. All I did the entire time we sat there was pretty much watch and psychoanalyze the group. Fleur and Vanessa hung over from the night before. The others a mix of hangovers and what I would guess was a pot hangover maybe more but who knows or really gives a fuck. The only one of the 5 of them that did seem to be awake and chipper was Paddy. Like an innocent child, uncomfortable by moments of silence he attempted to fill them with meaningless chatter.

 

"What's your favorite color?" He awkwardly and forcefully tries to create conversation.

 

"Are you fucking serious?" A hung over and crabby Vanessa answers back. It's amazing how when you're hung over all social politeness rules go out the window. It is just universally accepted brunch etiquette that if a person is hung over, you tread lightly. You let them enter the conversation when they feel fit. You do not and I repeat, do not try to engage the hung over person in an aggressive manner for conversation.

 

Realizing her mistake and knowing that it is not Paddy's fault she lazily tries to correct. "Blue." She says.

 

With out hesitation I chime in, "What kind of blue? Like a royal blue? A Turquoise blue?" Smiling with a shit eating grin.

 

"Fuck you, Morgan." She answers back to me. Trying to be serious, she breaks and lets through a smile. Just as I know it, she knows that if the cards were turned she'd be messing with me as well.

 

When the conversation finally turned to making a plan for the day, it was clear we were going to lose people. Some intimidated by the youtube videos of people jumping at the quarry and others to the shear pain of bad hangovers and a long motorbike drive to the location. Tom was even dreading the ride. He had met Becky on the night of the night market and Chiang Mai. It had now been 5 days that they literally had spent 24/7 together. Same room, same travel vehicles, and the same activities. Given our experience with Becky and the bikes in Pair, he knew she would not want to complete the ride solo and would ask to hop on some ones bike, his bike. He couldn't say know but so desperately wanted to. Not because of Becky but because being the driver with two people on the bike required attention. For the passenger it is fun and you can let your eyes wander about the vistas you pass, taking in fresh air at every point. For the driver your now tasked with someone else's safety, you as a result must focus on the road and cars around you.

 

Sure enough as two more hours passed and our bikes from the rental shop arrived, Paddy, Fleur, Vanessa and Bonnie had all opted out. Becky had asked to Tom to ride on his bike and Tom smiling while hiding his reluctance agreed. Given the people we knew were gone, we lazily joined forces with Davis. His friend Jordan, had picked up 2 more people, a couple from Wisconsin. Together, the  6 bikes and 7 of us would form a caravan.

 

Having formed our cohort, we asked the British, stoner looking hostel worker for directions to the quarry and then waited as he hand drew a map for us using the next 30 minutes. By the time we actually straddled the bikes and started our engines we were impatient to get to our destination. Jordan, a tall Scandinavian looking kid with a swiped hair-do and half shaved head, would be the leader. This was a mistake, having experience with motorcycles back home, he set the pace at 80km/hr. Way to fast for the city roads and local highways we would be driving. Especially given the disgusting shape our rental bikes were at and the fact that Tom had a passenger.

 

We drove for about 50 minutes on the local highway, looking for a golf course landmark that was drawn onto our map. It was the point at which we needed to turn right and cross the highway into the local roads that the quarry was on. Seeing a convenient store on the side of the road we stopped. It was clear that we were lost. Together but lost. We showed the clerks the map and attempted to say the name of the quarry. They did not speak English and we did not speak Thai. We repeated the name of the quarry and then all of the sudden like a spark of brilliance the cashier points back down the highway in the direction of where we came.

 

 

Becky chimes in that she saw a golf course about 15 minutes prior to us stopping here. Tom is not amused by this. You could tell he was annoyed by the fact that she didn't say anything to him while driving. She knew we were looking for the course but to her defense she was confused as to what size we were looking for. She had barely seen a very very small course but the hostel worker had said it would be a large country club. Large for SE Asia is miniscule for the U.S. we learned when it comes to golf.

 

Turning around we drove back, retracing our ride and quickly found the turn off. Forgetting we needed to turn again quickly after the initial exit off the highway, we found ourselves in a caravan powering through narrow country road. Hopeful that we would find the quarry if we only went further and further, we let ourselves be engulfed into the Thai countryside on this little road. It changed from farm land quickly into a jungle road that winded up and down through the mountainous forest. After about 20 minutes we came through to the entrance to a national park. We asked about the quarry. A Dutch local in the process of buying his Thai wife and his tickets, illuminated the error we had made in riding so far down the road. The turn off was only a minute or two past the exit on the highway.

 

It is strange how all of us in the Caravan were so very different but yet we shared one collective attitude towards the fact that we were lost. No one got stressed at driving the 15 minutes past our high way exit, no one stopped to question in annoyance the fact that we were probably lost on the country road, everyone just went with the flow. It was the feeling I imagine children get when they start to wander off, you see there faces light up as they discover each new thing in their path. It’s a feeling that the explorers of many years passed must have felt. You have a destination in mind but no true map. There is as a result no fear of how much time will pass.

 

Thanking the Dutchman, we turned and once again continued our journey on to find the quarry. The Thai wife had told us to look for a temple on our right and directly across from it on our left would be a shop. That was the point where we needed to take a right originally and now a left. We found it after about 20 minutes of retracing our steps.

 

By the time we got to the quarry, we had a sense of pride in our accomplishment. We had spent the afternoon searching for this treasure. You could see it on everyone's' face as we hit the clearing on the road and for the first time were able to see the sun casted orange rims of the quarry walls. As we parked our bikes a top a hill leading down into the quarry, we were taken with the sight. Off-white sand blurred into light orange that blurred into deep brown surrounding a placid body of water. The sides of the quarry were 30ft high or roughly 3 stories.  Jutting out into the center of the quarry was a narrow and raised peninsula. There were a series of these coming from all sides jutting up from the water like icebergs.

 

At the end of the peninsula we parked at was a small group of people, none of which were jumping in. We had already wondered how we would know where the jump site was in the quarry. The fact that no one was jumping did not help our queries. Knowing we only had a couple hours left of day light, we quickly descended the slope and traversed down the peninsula.

 

As we climbed to the top of the end, we were great with the jabber of English discussions on the quarry. Based on accents it was clear that the group was an eclectic mix of fellow travelers from western civilization. There was the English, the Americans, the Canadians, The Australians and the French. All the usual suspects.

 

"Have you jumped yet?" Tom and I ask excitedly.

 

"Naw, we were waiting for you." Responded spunky, young and slightly rotund Asian man.

 

"Is this where we jump?" Davis quickly asked.

 

"We' re not quite sure." The group of strangers responded.

 

Tom and I exchange looks and we have the same thought. This has to be the location of the cliff diving. There are no other access ways to the other sides of the quarry by foot. The only issue is we do not know how deep the water is and we do not know if there are any rocks or jagged sides awaiting us at the bottom of the quarry around this peninsula. I'm concerned but both Tom and I are committed to making the jump. The only decision to make is where to jump and we pretty much had that narrowed down for us.

 

While he comes across as a very type b and easy going person, the more I interact with Tom the less I think of him in this light. As we stood there on top of the clip, peering over the edge and down the drop into the water, you could see a progression of expressions cross Tom's face. The first is fear, the second is hesitation and the third is the most indicative of Tom's personality. It is the need to move, the need to act.

 

"I'm doing it." Tom forcefully states, trying to mask the chain reaction of adrenaline in his body as he commits to the jump.

 

"I'll follow you after." I say to him as we both shed our shirts and ready ourselves for the jump.

 

I grab the camera. He gives me a thumbs up and I confirm with my own thumbs up. He takes a running jump and leaps out into the air across the quarry.

 

SPLASH. We hear the water break. The group now stares patiently for what seems like ages. After a brief second and a half, Tom's head emerges from the deep opaque navy water.

 

My turn.

 

I hand the camera to Davis and get the ok that the shot is ready. I feel my heart start to pound. With each passing second it grows stronger. A shock of shivers are sent through my body, it is like electricity flowing through a closed circuit. I feel a slight heat hit my head. Fear. This is my bodies reaction to the risk that I am taking; to the fear that I am confronting.

 

I lift my left foot and push gently off with my right as if I am taking a large step from one stone to another in the middle of a pond.

 

Me taking the leap

My body quickly drops. Mind clear. Heart paused. I naturally allow my arms to go from a power pose up in the air to a locked position at my sides.  I close my eyes and it all goes black.

 

With a loud crash, I hear my feet hit the water and quickly find myself submerged. Like being jolted awake from a calm sleep my senses become heightened and I am hyper aware. I swim to the open air.

 

While the feeling of fear taking over my body was not at the level it was at when I jumped 3 years ago, it was still present. You never really relinquish your fear, you merely numb it into a dormant sleep with each passing confrontation. Fear allows you to be aware in life with.

 

Upon climbing back up the cliff it is clear that people are still hesitating to jump. You can see the symptoms of their fear across their face. They want to confront it but do not know how. They are stuck in their thoughts. I watch as the French woman goes back and forth from the center of the land to the edge of the cliff. You can see it in her face she does not want to be held back.

 

Her skin is a pale white, all color has flushed from her system. Each step she takes, you can see her thoughts churn through the idea of jumping. She swings her arms from front to back as if trying to create momentum into a decision to act. You can see her face turn between

 

"I am too old for this." She anxiously states, still toying with the idea.

 

She continues to pace back and forth. She looks at her friends for encouragement but they too are wrapped up in their own internal battle over the decision to jump. She finds herself alone. Heart racing, thoughts running wild. I imagine her thoughts drifting to the long list of questions.

 

"What if something goes wrong?"

 

"Can you get injured from jumping at this height?"

 

"How far is the hospital?"

 

"It's amazing isn't it?" I say gently to her.

 

"What? What is amazing?" I hear in a playful French accent.

 

"The way it takes hold of you. Fear. I can see it. Your heart is racing. Your body shakes and then a heat hits your head, right in the forehead and then emanates through out the rest of you."

 

With a smile and nod, she turns to me. No longer staring at the water before her.

 

"Just do it, don't think. Just do. No regrets." I find myself coaching her into a decision she so desperately wants to make.

 

"OK. I'm going."

 

With that she confidently turns and begins the process of disrobing for the jump. Handing off her shorts and shoes to her friends, she readies herself.

 

"OH. Oh. I can't believe I'm doing this. Power pose."

 

I'm ready with the camera when you are.

 

"One…. Two… Trous…"

 

My finger hits snap and the gaze of the group refocuses to the water below.

 

"I’m Aliiiiiiiiive." The woman shouts from below.

 

"That was so fucking amazing!!!. She continues to shout as she lies there floating face up in the water.

 

"AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

 

Her euphoric shouting goes on for another 3 minutes as she swims to the exit.

 

The group waits for her triumphant return. She climbs quickly to the top and with each step vocalizes how amazing she feels. What I loved about this moment is how honest and candid Karine was with her emotions. I think sometimes we are taught to hide our feelings and show no emotion. She just let it flood out of her and because of it each person after her had that much easier of a time.

 

She had faced the terror and let go of her fear for a moment, not forever, but just long enough to know that she could confront it safely. By taking the leap she became alive, no longer held back, no longer content with just foregoing opportunities. Life is for the bold, the risk takers and the dreamers. I know she will use her jump as inspiration for her travels, for her work and for her life. The action served as a powerful reminder.

 

Jumping for me was a reminder to continue confronting the things that scare me. But honestly the best part of that entire day for me was being able to be a part of this group of peoples first cliff jumping experience. Being able to be there for Karine and the others was fantastic. I've never given someone help and had that amount of ecstatic emotion pour out from them as a result. If I could do that for the rest of my life I would be a happy man.

 

Watching the rest of the group jump after Karine was too perfect. Each person had to confront the fear but did so with the encouragement of the group. They didn't hide from the fact that they were scared. They made it known. They committed to the act with trust in the group to be there for them. To push them. At the end of the day, just take the leap!