There are people in this world that have jumped from an airplane only to find mid-fall that the parachute didn’t open. While generally this spells death for the person plummeting to the earth there are , on occasions, a person that lands and is found broken, bruised and badly shaken but nonetheless alive .
That person while recovering from the usually significant injuries has to , despite everything , feel like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. You go into a free-fall , a jump from much higher than people die from and you live . You didn’t walk away . How could you? But the survival… the survival is all you could hope for and more.
Coming to Houston was me in free fall. I had little choice about what else I could do but I was definitely moving fast towards the ground and simply now , still in mid fall I have realized that I can’t do anything to change the end of this fall. now I am not saying that I am a victim of my fate I am saying that the choices that i made before now have shaped the movement I am in now . I jumped and while I couldn’t have predicted the lack of a parachute I had the choice to never jump.
I wonder if the people who are falling feel like I do now. In those moments , the beauty and splendor the earth all around them while they scream , prey or wet themselves , do they also feel like this might be what I had to have happen. Would they choose to be at home in whatever life made them feel like this was a good idea? I doubt that. I doubt that they would prefer to have never had the jump to avoid the fall. I know that I would not .