One Step to Freedom?

100% of the shots you neer spend a penny, never get in.In the shopping center of the arid empty, Colorado. A group of Cypriots and myself among them, crossed through the desert to reach the camping site where we would spend the night. Continuously attacking us, the strident sun followed our every foot note, as our bodies were melting d let like defenselessly ice cubes. After a couple of hundreds of metres of walk, my feet started to numb. I was exhausted. My bottle, constantly in my hand, was running pop out of water.Can my day get worse?, I wondered.What I didnt know was, that these obstacles were nothing comp bed to the inner conflict I would be going through soon.Does anyone expect to have a break? Does anyone want to have a swim?, Michael, our leader asked. Suddenly the feelings of joy and excitation replaced the tiredness and everyone was now rapturous I noticed I was smiling too. Impatiently we all followed Michael. That is when I first came face to face with my fea ture Via Dolorosa. The worst of all is that I was not informed of how difficult it would be for me, that small step I was asked to take, for which I had to grapple hard with my own thoughts and deepest fears which I was not even aware of. How can you fight something you cannot send off?Following the flow of my booster shots and climbing on a small hill, I reached the beginning of my slow and painful torture. I was standing at the mete of a rocky knoll, about three metres above the ground and to a lower place me, a tiny lake with crystal clear water. I could already evidence myself, in the lake, with the cool water fighting off the heat, while my frame was enjoying the luxuries of nature. As I lowered my head to face my reflection on the calm surface of the lake, the truth hit me in the face. I leave alone never forget how shocked I was when I realised I was not ready I couldnt jump I didnt want to.Nicola, are you going to jump or not?, Shane asked me.The question brought me to my senses like . . . . . . . nary(prenominal) Go on. I will go later., I replied.While ceremonial occasion them jumping with such comfort, as if it was fun, as if they were enjoying themselves, I matt-up barbaric with myself. Why had I stopped? It couldnt be that difficult, after all nada else seemed to find it challenging, on the contrary they all thought of it as amusing. If they could do it, so could I.All of a sudden I changed my sound judgment. I felt this urge, this push, the desire to jump as well.I can do this, I told myself.Once again I found myself standing at the frame of the hill determined to jump and once again I changed my mind, as my fears came to life my body froze instantly. It was as if my legs were glued into place, I couldnt move. Out of the blue, the combat started the battle over which I had no control, the battle which was going on in my head and whose winner would determine my decision. On one ramp my limiting beliefs and fears joined forces, to st op me from jumping while on the separate side my desire to jump was defensively trying to repulse the attack. The handicap to the defence lines was unavoidable and since my fears took control over my body, I stepped back quite of going precedent.Time was going by so quickly, as I tended to oscillate between the determination of jumping and the fear of falling. Over 20 minutes had passed since my last attempt and I was not looking forward to another one.Nicola we will be leaving soon, if you are going to jump, do it now, or else come down so that we can continue.No , a voice inside my head screamed. I am not grownup up. I am not leaving unless I jump. As these fell thoughts were passing through my head, the sun sank lower. Trying to convince myself that I could do it, I once more stepped at the doorstep of fear.You have xxx seconds to jump.I took a deep breath. rise up on Nicolas, a friend of mine shouted. Its only one stepTwenty-nine, twenty-eight . . .Puzzled as I were, I l ooked around as if searching for an answer. Suddenly I realised that everyone was staring at me. Was it sincerely only one step? Then what? Freedom?Sixteen, fifteen . . . The countdown continued.Hey Nicola, listen to me Stop thinking so hard. Just jump Its only one step.It was of no use. I didnt get a line a thing.Nine, eight, seven . . .I looked down at the lake. How could falling equalise to freedom? There were fluctuations in my feelings. I couldnt decide. I couldnt even take a small step.Three, two, one. Come on Nicolas we are leaving Come downI took a glance at the azure convulse as if it was my last one. I took a last deep breath.I am coming, the words burst like bullets out of my mouth.I closed my eyes. I could hear the blood booming in my ears. The acold breeze made me shiver. I found myself trembling like an undersize flower in a furious storm of hesitant feelings and fears. I slowly bent my knees and jumped.Time stopped. My life was passing through my mind like an old black and white movie. I panicked. I didnt want to fall. I regretted jumping. I waved my hands desperately, trying to hold onto something. A rock, a stone anything. Nothing there was nothing. I wanted to throw up. It was as if air was pushing my stomach up in my chest and out of my mouth.Even today, when I recall the situation and when I picture the unanimous scene in my mind, the same feelings come up fear, anxiety, fluctuation, regret. The same feelings which make full me up then, which still do, as if I am there. As if I never left. As if I never jumped. As if it was all for nothing.Although I am not free from my fears, I know it was not for nothing. I took the risk, I took the shot and I m proud of myself. The cheers and the congratulations I received as I came out of the lake, almost made up for the torture I went through. I was still feeling a speckle dizzy from the fall so I sat to rest. That is when Michael came and told me100% of the shots you never take, never get in.N ow this quote is one of my favourites. It was rattling a quote of Michael Jordans referring to basketball. When I first heard it, I didnt really understand what it meant, but after thinking about it, I became aware of its true meaning. It means that if someone does not dare to shoot the ball, because it may not go in the basket, he will never score.Its spoiled not taking risks a wise man said.In the middle of the arid desert, Colorado, I took the risk. I jumped. I may have not been freed from my fears but I learned my lesson. This experience shaped me into who I am today. A man who is not afraid of taking risks, and making move beyond the limits of fears and limiting beliefs.