Skydiving
First off, a big thank you to everyone who took the time to see my post yesterday and leave some comments and Yoors love! It was a nice surprise being the winner of the pool, which also means that the #yoorsjanuary2021 challenge for today is the one I suggested:
"Make a post about something you learned/tried for the very first time that you think brought something valuable to you and/or others."
Of course, I must now take my own challenge and tell you about the first time I went skydiving.
I remember it well. It was at my 30th birthday dinner party, some years ago, that I made the decision to try it. I wanted to enter the decade with a bang, and the idea of finally going through with this particular wish I’d had for a while seemed like the perfect way of doing it.
Hitting 30 was a bit of a defining moment for me. In my mind, it’s always been that age where one ceases to be a young adult and definitively transitions into full-blown adulthood. This may explain my sudden determination to jump off an airplane: if I was going to be a “real” adult now, then I wanted this action to define the kind of adult I was going to be.
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