03
Liz approaches me in the parking lot following the meetings end. “You know,” she says. “All you need is heart, if you want a brand-new start,” she states cryptically, carefully enunciating the words ‘heart’ and ‘start’ as if to suggest a hidden interpretation.
“Are you mocking me?” I accuse.
“No. I’m saying there’s only one way to confront a fear.” Liz is speaking with maturity. It’s a new image for her and it’s clear her advice has lived history. I’m drawn by the marked change in her presentation.
She continues, “You have to scare it back. Strike it in the heart. Your fear will dominate you if you let it, or you can choose to beat it. Make the choice to overcome. Either you have the power, or the water does. Be bigger than the demons inside of you. Beat Nemo. Tell me Ishmael, are you alive?”
I’m surprised by her question. It seems rhetorical but she’s waiting for my response the way a teacher calls on a student who’s not listening. “Yes,” I answer apprehensively.
“No. I mean truly living. Are you living your best life, Ishmael? Or are you not where you want to be?” It’s clear she’s formed a conclusion to her own question. Her words are more of a statement than a question.
I head home and ponder Liz’ confrontation. I can’t sleep, I’m too lost in thought. Images of the sun striking me through the water circle in my mind. Bubbles floating to the top like small jellyfish. The curse could be broken, I think to myself. In that moment, I resolved myself to change; step 5 of the 5-step recovery program. I must finish what I started. The time is now. In my garage sits a big metal keg from my college days. It’s wide enough that I can comfortably lie inside. I roll it out to my truck and place it by the trunk. Standing it upright, I bend down and throw out my back lifting it onto my vehicle. I know where I’m headed: Niagara.
The drive’s not too far and the adrenaline is making me speed, the concept of ‘safety’ has been thrown to the wayside anyways. If I was going to die tonight, it wasn’t going to be by car. I’m keenly focused on my resolution and arrive at the Falls in just under an hour. Its beauty is astounding. The mist from the waterfall rises so high that it obscures the stars, and the water below is as white as snow. The sound of the rushing waves crashing on the rocks below sounds pure, and inviting. A 167ft. vertical drop. To the tourists it’s a wonder, but to me it’s an opportunity. Despite my crippling fear, I can’t help but glare at it in pure awe. It is breathtakingly gorgeous in its size and strength. Tiny water droplets clean my face as I drive past it, heading upriver. About 500 metres from the falls, I find a secluded area to ditch my car. I roll the keg out from the trunk and it crashes when it hits the asphalt. Worried someone will notice me and divert my plans I take the car keys from my pocket and quickly inscribe “Nautilus III” on its side, then toss my keys into a nearby bush. I roll the keg over to the river’s shore, and shiver at the sight of the rapids. I stand the Nautilus III upright, take the lid off, and get inside. Twisting the lid shut from the inside, the interior feels cold, dark, and hollow. I lean over facing away from the river and whisper All you need is heart, for a brand-new START! At that, I push the weight of my body against the side facing the river and the keg topples over allowing the river to take me.
Nothing I do from this point forwards matters now. I am utterly powerless beyond and engulfed in God’s sink, subject to Niagara and her movements. I can sense the rapids getting faster and know I’m only moments away from being hurdled over the Falls like a cannonball. Though unnecessary, I close my eyes and imagine myself living within the eye of a hurricane, the storm rampaging all around me, with me at the epicentre, resolutely locked in serenity. I imagine the Sun and remember the feeling of warmth when the light struck my face as I shot out from the depths of Lake Erie years prior. What a grand feeling that was! Meanwhile in the real world, my body is being tossed around inside the keg, which is effortlessly being thrown about by the ravaging currents of the swift Niagara River. Without warning, the waves rocking the sides of the keg cease abruptly and I know intuitively that I have gone over the Falls, flying in a big metal casket through the night air. I imagine myself soaring like a majestic Phoenix, invincible to the conventions of an ordinary human existence. I’m passing through a tunnel and entering the extraordinary. BOOM! The water below breaks my fall and almost immediately the keg’s lid shoots off like champagne bottle releasing a cork. Amazingly, I’m not touched by the impact. Of all the countless rocks at the bottom of Niagara I managed to hit a patch of open water. I get pushed out of the top and see white bubbles glistening in the dark blue water around me like a coin that’s been thrown into a wishing well. The stars from the sky illuminate the surface of the water above me, guiding me. I follow them and spring out of the water in a bout of ecstasy. Safe and free, and being showered with mist, I lean back and look up at the stars and feel alive.