I have a fear of heights. I don’t know if I was always this way, or how I acquired my fear, as I recall spending a lot of time as a kid climbing trees and hanging out on my roof. Maybe I only enjoyed the heights of familiarity.

Yesterday people from the dojos went to circus school. The day was spent doing two hours of tumbling and jumping and juggling, then a break, then two hours of the flying trapeze.

My palms were sweaty just looking at the ladder, reaching forty feet to the ceiling. Atop the ladder was a ledge, a ledge as small as three dictionaries placed side by side. The ledge had metal poles on either side to hold on to, and then looked down on a huge net hung from the opposite wall of the gymnasium, like a giant hammock.

We all practiced a bit on the low trapeze bar, hanging upside-down from our knees. I knew there was no way in hell I was doing that on the high bar. I didn’t even know if I would make it up the ladder.

I waited until about the middle of the group for my turn. I crept slowly up the metal ladder, trying not to think about what I was doing, and just focus on my hands and the rungs. I tried to shut down my fear, and found myself gasping heavily once I was at the top, clinging with my hands to the bars, not daring to look down at the people below. The man up there secured safety lines to the heavy belt around my waist, and then pulled the trapeze to me with a hook.

I couldn’t reach it, as I am kind of short. He grasped the back of my belt and I leaned forward into empty space, out over the ledge, until my fingers finally found the bar, which pulled back against me heavily when I grabbed it. Then I reached again for the bar with me left hand, so that I was leaning out, toes over the edge, looking down at the net below.

At this point, it was time to step off the ledge. Which of course, goes against all the instincts of my brain (do not jump off this ledge! I command thee!). I stepped off, not screaming, just flying and holding the bar, swing up then back, creating a breeze. It was still scary, and there was no point at which I was tempted to hook my knees over the bar and let go with my hands. I simply felt grateful to be off the ledge, to be honest, and that much closer to the floor. I dropped into the net, filled with relief.

Brian expressed the same fears I did, but he was able to go up a couple of times, hang upside down, and even swing up to be caught by another guy on a different trapeze. It was amazing to watch and I was beaming with pride. Although the event was totally safe, with nets and safety rope and everything, it is still terrifying to leap from such a height, and then to let go and be caught.