jumping from a plane

Next Friday, I am scheduled to pitch a daring and innovative idea to administrators in my building. The particulars are less important right now than the process. What looms is not my capacity to articulate an ambitious vision. Rather, the challenge is to make the endeavor worthy even when the exact path is somewhat murky. In short, I am confronting a systemic attitude the infects everything related to education in this state. The editorial page of the capital newspaper phrased the condition this way: "Connecticut is genetically programmed to resist change, even when change is called for." While the paper was referencing a group of school superintendents who have some ideas for rethinking the purposes of K-12 education whereas I am proposing a new process for preparing future science and math teachers, the giant block that has to be tipped, toppled or eroded is uncertainty. What I need to decide is how much emphasis to put on the possibilities versus doing all that I can to convince others that there is essentially no risk.

As I think about the right strategy for this situation, I remind myself how glorious my life has been over the past several years because I have not been obliged to think along these lines. Today I am especially proud that my asymmetric compadre, who has helped co-father many a wild adventure, was the recipient of a prestigious award at his appropriately appreciative university. As I would expect, he prepared an unconventional presentation that ranged far and wide – not for the sake of being unconventional but because that is the only way to accomplish an authentic representation of his work and aspirations. There might be risks in announcing the possibility of applying money to buy beer. And as I hear the polite chuckles in my head, I want to explain that he's serious with the only question being whether I will be a peripheral participant in his purchases. Standing in front of a sizable crowd (I envision SRO with even the wait staff pausing to consider the wisdom and cherish the humor) to give a talk has the equivalent risk for some people as jumping out of an airplane is to others. There is an illogical aspect to both because neither is especially necessary. However, neither adventure – using newly discovered presentation software or leaping with others out of a perfectly viable aircraft – is stupid. Daring? Yes. However, I would like to emphasize how the two leaps are comparable.

Here is a photograph taken by one skydiver as a Chevy exited the back of an aircraft. We can see two other parachutists that are following the red vehicle having paused after pushing the car into freefall. At a very basic level, this is a clever publicity stunt and the resulting commercial will be sufficient to propel consumers to the local Chevrolet showroom. Personally, I am less puzzled why someone would go to this much trouble to film a commercial and am much more confused about how this scene makes one think it's a good reason to take out an auto loan. Which is all to say that I enjoyed finding out what the skydivers and videographers were thinking as they prepared for their task:

You look at the situation and you say, "Okay, this is what can go wrong." Basically, you step back from it and look at all the variables. "Okay, what am I going to do to minimize risks?"

With the falling Chevy, I would think minimizing risks would translate into making sure the parachutes were extra big to ensure gentle landings. With the presentation, wearing a reliable (I almost typed "depend-able") pair of trousers is a brilliant strategy for minimizing risks and reducing the scope of things that could go wrong. In brief (!) a wise person anticipates problems and makes adjustments to bring the uncertainties down to an acceptable level: lots of preparation and a great deal of thinking, rehearsing, double-checking and more thinking. There remains the understood uncertainties that will reveal themselves and that's all part of the preparations. Ultimately, those efforts occupy a considerable factor of time greater than the duration of the actual event:

You're putting things together as best you can — and then it all boils down to that one minute.

Too often, I fail to remain fully cognizant of the culmination of the experience when I'm in the midst of it. Perhaps this is reasonable given all the hours I've rehearsed possible response to the various scenarios. When the magical time arrives, I have to jolt myself to realize that this is IT -- and I need to soak it and do my best to etch it into my mind. With that comes the need to enjoy the outcome of the accumulation of plans and preparations. There are more opportunities in the future to make more plans. But the instant when the plans are put into motion have almost escape my noticing:

It's just about being in the moment. And this is where I want to be.

I am depending on the guest speaker today to have found moments he can freeze in his mind enough to hold onto forever, or just long enough to pass along to me. Maybe a caring partner or public relations cub reporter will capture the event with a snapshot. As for myself and next Friday's sales attempt, with the possibility that this will serve as the seed crystal for another amazing adventure, I need to remind myself to be in the moment and appreciate that it is just where I want to be. It isn't just the outcome, but it's the free fall of almost uncontrolled tumbling that can be equally important. Whereas the descending automobile had many videographers along for the ride, I don't know that I should expect such in the Dean's office. Maybe I'll stick my digital camera in my pocket just in case. Or maybe I can find ways to be entirely engaged in what happens without also losing myself. What fascinates me about this video is that I was completely unconcerned about how the landing turned out. Instead, I was transfixed by the journey. I trust today's talk has a similar feel: the leap, the rush, the sense of accomplishment.

SONIC from Drea Cooper on Vimeo.