Imagine yourself at an edge of a cliff overlooking the most beautiful sight that you’ve seen in your life. Below the cliff, you see the clearest and calmest of waters. You feel this peace inside you, you feel free, you are at your happiest. You take the deepest breath, inhaling the freshest air you’ve inhaled for the longest time. You stretch your arms across, take one last look at your surroundings, then without any thought, without any hesitation, without any doubts, you take a plunge, thinking that the waters will gently break your fall.
In the middle of your plunge, you realize that what you thought was the clearest and calmest of waters, you see something else that you never expected. Hesitations return, doubts cloud your head. Fear is in your gut. You feel yourself questioning what you have done and wished like hell you haven’t jumped. You wish over and over that your return to where you were before you took the plunge. You remember the scenery, you try to feel the peace that you’ve had, you remember the happiness. But no matter how much you desperately try to remember, you can’t. All you see is the pending disaster in front of you.
Raging waters break your fall, you hurt all over, you gasp for breath. You wade your arms into the waters, trying to find something to hold on to. Several attempts and you feel like giving up until you are able to grab a branch. You, then, hold on to it as if your very life depends on it. You fill your lungs with air while trying to stay afloat.
You hang on to the branch, waiting, praying for the waters to be calm once again. You pray for serenity to return. Yet the longer you wait, more pain you get. The more that you get hurt. The more that you lose your strength. You run out of time. It’s either you stay and wait or you grab on to the branch, let go and walk away.
You love the waters. However, you never expected its rage once you got in. You cannot take the pain of waiting. So you get out of it. You let go of the branch that you were trying to hold on to with your very life. It is almost uprooted off the ground where it was buried deep. You look at the bruises that you got, you take one look back at the waters thinking, how can such a beautiful and peaceful sight hurt you so much?
You watch for a moment, standing still just at the edge. But in as much as you want to return back, you don’t have the strength, you lost all confidence. The branch that kept you afloat has now been uprooted. Had you stayed longer, you would have been thrown back into the raging waters and might have snapped like a twig. The branch would not have been enough to hold your weight any longer. Then you think it is a good thing that you let go of it before anything else.
You turn around, you feel the pain, yet you still walk away and try to move on even with all the agony that you feel. You are practically broken yet the thought that you were able to get out of it makes you strong enough to walk away.
After such time, you go back to the cliff. You still think of the time when you’ve plunged without hesitation. You try to convince yourself not to do it but deep inside you something tells you that you need to do it again. You look at your healing bruises then look back at the bottom of the cliff. Once, you were able to take the plunge, you were able to hold on, then you had to let go and then moved on. You were able to move on. So this time, what’s the hesitation?