I Jumped Off A Cliff and Survived

In 2019, at almost age 50, I set off to do the things that had scared the living daylights out of me all of my life. I wanted to be fearless. I felt like being afraid of doing so many things, allowed fear to dominate my life. I created a list. The first thing I wanted to do was jump off a cliff.

From an early age, I have always been quite fascinated with paragliding. I imagined how it must feel like to float in the sky, taking in the world from the highest vintage point.

I currently live next to a paragliding school and I see pilots land in the field next door every day. On a sunny, breezy day like today, I can spot almost 30 paragliders in the sky above my house. Their vibrantly colored sails floating effortlessly like tropical birds in the vast blue skies above. I could only imagine the feeling of absolute freedom that they felt. I wanted to feel the same way.

In June last year, I walked into the school and asked if they had any space left for a tandem jump that very day. Tandem is when you paraglide with a certified instructor. A beautiful, blond-eyed, kind lady looked up at me with a knowing smile. “Is it your first time?” she asked. “Yes,” I managed to say. “Don’t worry, it will be okay, we do this all the time and we take people from age 5–99 years old”. I stared at her in surprise, “As young as 5 years old?” “Oh yes,” she said. “Let’s set you up with Bruce, he is one of our best”.

As I waited for Bruce, I spied on the ballet of instructors and customers preparing for or coming back from a jump. I studied the returning customers’ faces closely. Did anyone look visibly stressed, was anyone crying, did anyone look hurt? Secretly I guess I was looking for a reason to not go through with my jump, but I couldn’t find one.“Rebecca Stevens”, a tall, handsome man with sea-blue eyes and a deep tan called out. I figured it was Bruce and walked toward him. “Let’s paraglide”, he said”.

He gave me a 30 minutes class on what was expected of me. For example, when taking off, I was to run off a cliff. I was to keep my legs straight and not bend them in while I ran. I shouldn’t worry about plunging to my death — the paraglide would sustain us in the air once we jumped off the cliff. I nodded affirmatively but thought to myself, how could we stay in the air, gravity would surely pull us down. I felt the fear rising.

“When we land,” he continued, “you need to continue running until we hit the ground. Again, do not fold in your legs. Yes, you definitely instinctively would want to bend your legs, but if you do, you will land badly and probably break a leg”. I felt the fear rising in me a bit more. How was I ever going to get out of this at this stage?

Bruce and all the other instructors called all novice jumpers to board the bus that would take us up the mountain top, up to the cliff where we would all jump from. I looked at my fellow jumpers: two young teenage girls, an older man — probably in his 80s, a middle-aged woman and a 5 year older child. The ride up the mountain was quiet, no one spoke. It was if we were being driven to our deaths. I decided to ignore my fear. I’d come this far, I needed to go through with this.

We were on the mountain top. The city of Geneva lay below, glistening in the bright afternoon sun. It looked beautiful — the water fountain, the United Nations, Lake Geneva. I wondered if this would be the last thing I would ever see. Suddenly the wind stopped blowing. “We are going to wait until the wind picks up again”, Bruce said. I was relieved. Was it God trying to tell me something. Was he trying to get me off that cliff before it was too late?

I stood there, Bruce standing close behind me. I closed my eyes briefly, took in the warm sunlight on my skin, breathed in and out. At that exact stage, I felt powerful, fearless. The wind began to rise from the southwest. It caressed my face gently, encouragingly. “Run now” interrupted my peaceful rêverie, and as an Olympic athlete, I started to run. The cliff lay ahead of me, seemingly daunting, inhospitable, unkind. I moved with stamina, with determination. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, and then again, that familiar sickening fear had returned, eating at my insides.

I felt like slowing down, turning back, but something magnetic was drawing me toward the edge, towards the vast expanse. I closed my eyes, my feet left the ground and I felt weightlessness I had never felt in my life. I felt like a feather, like a bird, I felt free. The paraglide sailed upwards, smoothly, effortlessly. I didn’t have the sensation that I was falling at all. I felt uplifted, I felt serene, at peace.

From above, everything took on a 3D perspective, everything looked more vibrant, more real. It was an incredibly immersive experience. Like I was in the movie Avatar when both main characters jump off a cliff. It was like moving from a regular cinema screen to IMAX. It was exhilarating, it was fantastic.

We floated in the sky for 30 minutes. Pockets of hot air made us ascend while cold air made us descend. We played with these pockets of air for what seemed like forever. I saw the Mont-Blanc, the highest mountain peak in Western Europe. I contemplated in awe both the Alps and Jura mountain ranges. I saw the village I lived in, and I even saw my house. We flew around more, spying the tiny specs of color moving on the motorway below, cows in the prairies, people walking their dogs, children playing in the fields. From up above, I contemplated the mesmerizing beauty of the planet, a true masterpiece designed by the most meticulous and talented creators of them all.

We landed in one piece. I was sure to follow Bruce’s guidance and not bend my legs. My husband Emmanuel was waiting with the camera in one hand to capture my “fearless face”. He did. As Bruce expertly packed up the paraglide, I pondered what I had just experienced — the feeling of freedom up there, the beauty, the peace. I wanted to feel that adrenaline over and over again.

I went back into the office. The kind blond lady was still behind her desk. She smiled mischievously as I approached. “So how was it?” she inquired. I smiled back at her and said: “I’d like to train to become a certified paraglider, when does your next class start?”

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