Taking the plunge, literally

“Di nako kaya, dai.”

I can’t do it, I said, feet trembling as I inched closer to the diving platform. I was the only one on the extended board now, and the closer I got to the edge, the heavier my heart pounded.

“Kaya lage nimo,” Maria, my best friend of 14 years, urged from down below, as she resurfaced from the water. “Just jump!” (Translation: You can do it.)

I could hear our friends agreeing.

If only it were that easy, right?

We were nestled in the lush green hills that surrounded Siargao’s Sugba Lagoon. The place had a 4-meter diving spot that attracted foreign tourists and Filipinos alike, who enjoyed the adrenaline rush.

It was not as high as the ones I’ve jumped off from in the Limasawa and Bantayan islands, but I was also not the same carefree woman who jumped those cliffs before.

“Sige na lage, dai!” Maria said. “Dili ra nimo ma feel ang freefall.” (Translation: Go ahead and do it. You won’t even get that freefall feeling.)

I hesitantly walked back towards the wider diving platform. Being at level with the large hills felt unsettling and the longer I stayed there, the more my mind tried to convince me that it was unsafe.

My mind is powerful–its thoughts, even more so. And over the years, my overthinking has allowed me to miss opportunities and skip unfamiliar experiences. I’ve managed to convince myself that the feeling I get when I’m faced with something novel is a warning signal, that it’s my brain’s way of keeping me out of harm’s way. 

Surely, everyone’s brains were the same, right?

But Maria jumped, and so did my three other friends–Ana, Carl, and James–so why was I the only one so crippled by my own mind?

What was I even afraid of? Where had my spontaneous and fearless younger self gone?

Before I could think of an answer, Maria, Ana, and James were up on the platform again, ready to jump for the second time. And in this turn, they wanted me to go first.

“Dili gyud nako kaya, dai, I swear,” I said, as if begging them to not let me jump. (Translation: I really can’t do it, I swear.)

“Kaya lage nimo, dai, sige na,” Maria said for the nth time. “Mangambak ‘tang tanan before manguli.” (Translation: You can do it. Just go ahead. We all have to cliff dive before we leave.)

“Ihatod ko sa tumoy, please,” I conceded and tried to bargain instead. (Translation: Walk me to the edge, please.)

And so Maria did. She started guiding me by my back slowly as we crept forward to the edge of the diving board once more. I was as whiny as she was encouraging. 

I could feel the air between my legs as I kept my gaze forward, not daring to look down. My chest caved in, heart sank to my stomach when I felt the cold on my back. Maria was no longer behind me; all that was left to do was jump.

It took me a good five seconds of internal battle before I heard my friends count down. “3… 2… 1…”

I jumped.

As soon as I heard the last number, I jumped.

Maria lied. I could definitely feel the freefall, but it didn’t matter because I was in the water in a matter of, what felt like milliseconds. 

I was laughing when I resurfaced from the water, submerged in the familiar feeling of exhilaration and excitement, that slowly overtook my body as adrenaline pumped into my veins.

Definitely the best way to end our Sugba Lagoon tour.

When we were finally heading back to the main island of Siargao, the motorized bangka¹ lulling us all to silence while we saved what was left of our energies from swimming and playing in the water all day, I realized that I have encountered many situations similar to the one I had earlier.

They were not always as lighthearted and less consequential as cliff diving, but my hesitation each time made them all the same–it made me miss out.

Granted, it helped me avoid unnecessary troubles, but I became more fearful and worrisome with every hesitation.

Safety and comfort can be detrimental to growth, especially if used as an excuse to avoid doing something new or confronting challenges head-on.

All of this theatrical retelling of my recent cliff diving is really just to say that life throws a multitude of challenges each day, but perhaps the goal is not to think so much about them but to do something about them.

Whichever we choose between the two, there is always a risk of either danger or boredom.

But I wasn’t about to miss out on cliff diving. 

I knew I would never be able to forgive myself if I passed the opportunity to tell a good story. So I faced my challenge head-on and took the plunge.

We all have our own cliffs that we’ve been on for far too long, sitting at the edge of, and waiting for the jitters to disappear; whether it’s a job you’ve been meaning to quit, a relationship you’ve been wanting to end, or a decision you’ve been waiting to make.

The jitters don’t disappear, they just multiply and multiply, until your mind finally manages to convince you to crawl back to safety. But your actions are more powerful than the second thoughts you are having, so take the plunge.

Find your Maria, Ana, Carl, or James to remind you that you can do whatever you put not only your mind but your body into and take the plunge.

For all you know, it’s not that far of a fall anyway. And even if you do fall deep into the water, you’ll always float right back up.

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¹Bangka is a native watercraft in the Philippines. Abrera, Maria Bernadette L. (2005). "Bangka, Kaluluwa at Katutubong Paniniwala (The Soul Boat and the Boat-Soul: An Inquiry into the Indigenous "Soul")" (PDF). Philippine Social Sciences Review. 57 (1–4): 1–15.