Normally, when someone jumps off a cliff, it means death, surrender, and suicide…
I lived on the Japanese island of Okinawa for 3 years, where the bloodiest battle of the pacific took place during World War II – 62,000 U.S. military casualties, 95,000 Japanese military casualties, and 100,000 civilians casualties.
On one end of this incredibly beautiful coral island there are steep and deadly cliffs where literally thousands of Japanese jumped to their death, rather than surrender …
I stood at the top of those cliffs, my feet where their feet were, and at the bottom, where they tragically landed, imagining – as much as that is possible – both the leap, and the landing…
Needless to say, cliffs have a special meaning for me.
That was 27 years ago…
Seven years ago I stood on the edge of a different cliff. Faced with the reality of a loveless marriage and a desperately hopeless future. I stood daily at the edge – contemplating that jump – thinking that a quick and painless exit was a reasonable answer to ending what seemed to have no end.
But rather than taking that way out, I walked away – ran away – from 23 years of marriage. I jumped off a personal cliff, and fell… and landed hard, leaving a wake of pain and suffering both in me and behind me.
The jump off that cliff, very literally saved my life. But I was broken after that. I had lost hope. I lost faith. I had found freedom from misery and landed in loneliness, emptiness, and despair…
Then a miracle happened.
Her name was Pamela.
Five years after those dark times, Pamela found a way, to re-light that fire that burned somewhere deep inside me.
Through her kind and genuine loving presence, she brought to me – a re-found sense of, appreciation, gratitude, kindness, love, and giving. She gave me the greatest gift anyone could ever have given – she helped me find myself again. A gift for which I will be forever grateful, and for which I will be reciprocating eternally.
Yet my cliffs are not done just yet…
But this time, I know and trust, that walking up to the edge of the cliff and stepping off will (in the words of the late Alan Arcieri) yield only one of two things:
A bridge will form beneath my feet, or I will suddenly learn to fly.
I lived on the Japanese island of Okinawa for 3 years, where the bloodiest battle of the pacific took place during World War II – 62,000 U.S. military casualties, 95,000 Japanese military casualties, and 100,000 civilians casualties.
On one end of this incredibly beautiful coral island there are steep and deadly cliffs where literally thousands of Japanese jumped to their death, rather than surrender …
I stood at the top of those cliffs, my feet where their feet were, and at the bottom, where they tragically landed, imagining – as much as that is possible – both the leap, and the landing…
Needless to say, cliffs have a special meaning for me.
That was 27 years ago…
Seven years ago I stood on the edge of a different cliff. Faced with the reality of a loveless marriage and a desperately hopeless future. I stood daily at the edge – contemplating that jump – thinking that a quick and painless exit was a reasonable answer to ending what seemed to have no end.
But rather than taking that way out, I walked away – ran away – from 23 years of marriage. I jumped off a personal cliff, and fell… and landed hard, leaving a wake of pain and suffering both in me and behind me.
The jump off that cliff, very literally saved my life. But I was broken after that. I had lost hope. I lost faith. I had found freedom from misery and landed in loneliness, emptiness, and despair…
Then a miracle happened.
Her name was Pamela.
Five years after those dark times, Pamela found a way, to re-light that fire that burned somewhere deep inside me.
Through her kind and genuine loving presence, she brought to me – a re-found sense of, appreciation, gratitude, kindness, love, and giving. She gave me the greatest gift anyone could ever have given – she helped me find myself again. A gift for which I will be forever grateful, and for which I will be reciprocating eternally.
Yet my cliffs are not done just yet…
But this time, I know and trust, that walking up to the edge of the cliff and stepping off will (in the words of the late Alan Arcieri) yield only one of two things:
A bridge will form beneath my feet, or I will suddenly learn to fly.