When I was about 15 I developed a fear of heights because I used to have nightmares every night about falling. Eventually I dealt with my terrors by teaching myself to fly in my dreams. I learned to soar over buildings, clouds, and mountaintops. It was glorious and liberating to be able to transform my fear of falling into the exhilaration of flight. I began to look forward to having the falling dream so that I could fly through the Matterhorn at Disneyland on a skateboard again.

Despite my victory over the nighttime fears I still couldn’t overcome my serious fear of heights during my waking hours. The genesis of my acrophobia could be found in my dreams but the fear remained long after the dreams were no longer a problem. I began to feel like the fear owned me, ruled my life. I also felt like it was metamorphosing into a broader set of fears, potentially paralyzing me in life. I was afraid of speaking in public. I was afraid of the bullies who would pick on me in school. I was afraid of talking to women.

I thought about my fear of heights and I wondered when I might face it so that I could banish it forever. I also felt like I could drive away a broader set of fears by confronting this one. One day the opportunity to face my fear of heights presented itself.

The Jump

I was talking to some friends about a canyon that had a steep cliff on one side of a deep pool. I believe it was called Box Canyon. We all decided to go for a hike and check it out. A short time later we arrived. I stared at the beautiful blue-green water at the base of a tall and impossibly steep cliff. The walls of the cliff had to be 70 to 90 degrees at various points, 70 feet or so high on one side and over 100 feet on the other. It was a gorgeous sunny day, blue skies above.

Others were already there, playing in the water. I had worn swimming trunks under my jeans so I was prepared for some fun but mostly I wanted to look around. It turned out that people frequently jumped off the cliff into the water for fun. You could jump from various natural formations on one side, ranging from about 10 feet to about 60 feet above the water.

I sat on the ground, watching people leap with great joy into that refreshing pool of azure blue, welded to the spot by my fear. I saw some leap head first, usually from the lower levels, while others leapt feet first. I noted that there seemed little room for error in a head first leap while the water was bit more forgiving about the angle of entry on a foot first leap. I stared and watched. Then I decided. I wanted to be freed of my fear.

I gingerly climbed up the steep trail, rocks rolling away from under my feet, higher and higher, until I was standing on the 60 foot platform. I gazed over the side and felt dizzy, nearly ill. Vertigo. I thought about the danger. I could die or become paralyzed if I hit the rocks below or if I flailed and hit the water at an awkward angle. It had happened to others. Rarely, but still a risk.

I also thought about how fear can evolve and expand to take a grip on many parts of my life. I realized I was already paralyzed, partially dead, and my paralysis was expanding to take over my life. I had to conquer this fear. Was it a wise decision to jump? Who knows? A jump was fraught with risk but it was clear there was risk in not jumping either.

After staring for an interminable time, I finally announced loudly and publicly that I was going to jump on the count of three. Silence echoed through the canyon. The entire place seemed to stop and look up at me. I paused, wanting to withdraw my words and shrink away. I didn’t want to take the next step. I looked down. The pool of water, so large just moments before, looked so tiny. A little round blue postage stamp. My pulse raced and my legs quivered. I felt sweat in pores I didn't know I had. I thought I might collapse. I noticed that I was going to have to clear a rock jutting out from the cliff about 25 feet below. That meant I needed a running start but there was limited room to build momentum.

I steeled myself. Conquer the self. Conquer the fear. ONE! I tried to breathe. No fear. TWO! It could end now but I knew I had to face my fear. THREE! I ran and leapt into the longest two seconds of my life.

In the first moment I felt stationary. Images clipped past like a scene from an old movie. It was windy but I couldn't hear a sound. I glanced to see if I had leapt out far enough to clear the rock jutting out. I had. The blue postage stamp seemed so far away. I could see people ringing sections of the pool, looking up at me.

The pool began to grow but I didn't flail. Slowly I brought my feet together. I wanted to look down as long as possible but I realized that I would have to lift my face before impact. I could see small ripples on the water below and I wondered if I would finish the plunge intact. I wondered if I would be a different person when I emerged. The pool began to grow and time seemed to speed up. I looked down again and the postage stamp was now expansive in size, ready to engulf me. I took a deep breath and lifted my face up to the brilliant blue sky.

My body penetrated the surface of the water like a missile. The water felt electrifyingly cold and hard. Sharp needles seemed to pierce every fiber of my being. I remained vertical, with my face pointed up. I could feel the water trying to pull the legs of my trunks up over my earlobes. I kept going down. And down. Then my motion stopped and time snapped into normal speed. Puzzled, I looked around and saw bubbles.

ALIVE! Exhilarated, I began to kick upwards and burst through the surface a moment later. I shouted and hooted, punching my fist into the air.

Perhaps it was not a wise maneuver. Perhaps I shouldn’t have jumped. But I do know this. I’ve never been afraid of heights since that day. I liberated myself and I destroyed all of the other fears that had begun to take root in the soil of my soul at the same time. It changed my life and I emerged from the pool reborn.

Edited to add Epilogue:

I no longer carry fear with me, especially not fear of heights. I stood on a rock platform called The Diving Board on the top of Half Dome in Yosemite. It is perched about 4000+ feet above the ground below. I worked on a balloon chase crew and went up many times in the balloon. I once flew with an aerobatics instructor in a Cessna doing rolls, loops, and other tricks including a hammerhead with a stall. Also, I am no longer afraid of bullies, public speaking, or women (especially not intelligent, gorgeous, tall women -- that's how I met J). I eliminated all of my fears that day and changed my life forever.