My camera couldn't conquer the distance, low light, and motion conditions to get a high-quality picture, but I wanted to post these shots of my daughter high jumping anyhow. Maybe I'm in an "everything is a metaphor for life" phase, but something about the high jump inspires and scares the heck out of me. Maybe it reminds me of leaping over tall buildings or overcoming obstacles or defying natual law or the perfection when body, mind, and physics all work together just right.
My daughter tells me the approach is the hardest part. The closer you get, the higher that bar looks. There's something illogical about throwing yourself into the air over a bar your eyes and mind tell you is just too high. You have to be a smidge crazy. And no matter whether you can jump 3" 10" or 4'10" as Liz does in the shot below, or 6'10", you don't get to quit until you've tried to go just a little higher than you're able--every high jump competition ends with a miss. Even the winner misses her last attempt as the bar is raised ever higher. Every jumper learns to deal with the sound of the bar hitting the ground, the body hitting the mat, and the collective disappointed "Ohhh" of the spectators.
But oh the thrill of flying!
My daughter tells me the approach is the hardest part. The closer you get, the higher that bar looks. There's something illogical about throwing yourself into the air over a bar your eyes and mind tell you is just too high. You have to be a smidge crazy. And no matter whether you can jump 3" 10" or 4'10" as Liz does in the shot below, or 6'10", you don't get to quit until you've tried to go just a little higher than you're able--every high jump competition ends with a miss. Even the winner misses her last attempt as the bar is raised ever higher. Every jumper learns to deal with the sound of the bar hitting the ground, the body hitting the mat, and the collective disappointed "Ohhh" of the spectators. 
But oh the thrill of flying!
1 comment:
Great metaphor. I totally understand that fear, that desire to better oneself, the sure failure at a certain point when one can't go any higher, has met one's match.
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