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| Dr. Anthony Paustian Provost at DMACC West Campus |
As one with an intense fear of open-air heights, I’m not exactly sure how I rationalized standing, tethered to a “pilot,” in front of the open door of an aircraft at 14,000 feet (2-1/2 miles above ground). I took slight comfort knowing the pilot was one of the best in the world: a U.S. Army Golden Knight with over 9000 jumps. Perhaps I wanted to prove to myself I could let go of my fear. Or, maybe, I felt baited into it by my Army friends who kept calling me chicken (among other things). Whatever the reason, there I stood, terrified and mentally frozen, with my heart pumping like it would explode in my chest.
I had no choice but to trust my pilot, a man half my size. As I hung out of the door while he held on to make final preparations, I was instructed to cross my arms since grabbing something at this point could cause serious injury. I resisted looking down for these few seconds as I had absolutely no control and tried to ignore the sudden urge to clutch something—anything—to save my life.
The pilot tapped my shoulder indicating we were about to jump. After three short forward lunges, we began our free-fall descent of 9,000 feet at approximately 160 miles per hour. Breathing was difficult, and my cheeks flapped from the massive intake of air. At such height, while traveling so fast, I didn’t even realize I had allowed myself to flap my arms like a large, prehistoric bird. Perhaps it was the lack of context. When I saw the curvature of the earth, the ground looked like a blurred mass of color and undefined features.
At 5,000 feet, the pilot deployed the main chute. For a brief moment, as our speed and descent slowed, I experienced a little pain and discomfort. Then the pilot loosened the harness slightly, which reduced the strain and allowed the freedom to circle, twist, and glide as the pilot wished.
Then came the most terrifying question I’d ever heard: “Would you like to take the controls and fly the chute?” When the main chute deployed, I had clenched my straps for dear life; the decreased speed and increased clarity of detail on the ground below offered a vivid reminder of my extreme fear of open-air heights. No way was I going to let go and grab the steering controls. Letting go would have meant abandoning my false feeling of security. I was convinced if I let go, I would certainly fall to my death.
Of course, that thought was ludicrous; I was skydiving with an expert. Yet we all struggle with “letting go” at times, whether we’re clinging to bad habits, entrenched thinking, insecurities, or something as simple as a parachute harness. Our inability to let go keeps us from experiencing new things or taking advantage of positive opportunities, and it’s based on fear, which is a function of the unknown. Once we are able to take a first step forward, however small, the unknown becomes a little less so, and each step thereafter builds confidence to take the next.
ciWeek 2014 begins at the DMACC West Campus on March 3rd and provides the opportunity to meet and hear the stories of people who have allowed themselves to “let go” and be successful. Whether traveling a quarter million miles to the moon, disproving myths and urban legends, embracing the shake, or solving problems with innovative solutions under the extreme pressure of combat, these stories and more will serve as an inspiring platform to overcome fear and take our own steps forward.
Now that I have faced my fear of jumping from a plane at 14,000 feet, would I do it again? Perhaps, under similar conditions. While the experience didn’t cure my fear of open-air height scenarios, I did grow as a result. If nothing else, I took another step (albeit a 2-1/2 mile one) toward facing—and letting go of—my fears, one of many steps to come.
For ciWeek 2014 schedule and more information on the great line-up of keynotes and speakers, please visit www.dmacc.edu/ciweek. Anthony Paustian is the provost and chief operating officer for the DMACC West Des Moines Campus and author of "Beware the Purple People Eaters: A Personal Look at Leadership.” He can be reached through his website at www.adpaustian.com.
©2014 Anthony Paustian, Ph.D.
