“Are you sure you aren’t coming?” asked my husband before walking into the briefing session before his first-ever indoor skydiving.

We were on a cruise to New Zealand and just before that, we both stood near the glass dome where an instructor was helping some daring souls to ‘fly’ in a cubicle or tube with high-velocity air blown through the mashed wire floor. Most couldn’t manage to fly. They banged on the glass wall, flipped over, and frantically headed for the door to get out of the gush of wind which was perhaps as forceful as tornadoes that can uproot trees and shoot the cows to the sky.

There was no way I was going to do that.

But then again, it costs hundreds of dollars, for the experience, and here, on the cruise, I was getting it for free. And human psychology is, not to say no to something that is free.

“What the heck. I will come,” I said and followed him.

After asking us whether we have any injuries or pain in our shoulders or limbs, the operators made us sign a waiver, which possibly said if we break anything while chasing the experience it will be of our own free will.

We were then herded into a tiny cabin with eight other people and shown a video to educate us on the dangers of what can go wrong. Then dutifully they told us how to position our bodies to minimize the damage and ‘enjoy’ the experience.

Following that, we were given the gear to wear that resembled a space suit. The final touch was earplugs and protective glasses. Unable to hear anything and walking like astronauts, we entered the dome with our instructor who did a dance in the dome (at 10 times the velocity), to demonstrate how easy the whole thing was.

Then he started picking one person at a time. The first one was a man, perhaps much older than me. He was tall and confident. But he didn’t last long. After several attempts by the instructor to steady him, he panicked and headed for the door. A couple of females followed him, one met the same fate as the man, while the other was a star. She flew so well that we all became hopeful that we can do it too.

Next was my turn. I got to the doorway, remembering to keep my chin up, hands straight, and aligned to my shoulder height. “Don’t forget to loosen your knees,” the instructor reminded me. As I stood in the doorway, and had and looked at the mashed floor for a millisecond, I realized one thing – there is no way I can get hurt unless I try to fight the wind.

I relaxed my body and let go. The next moment I was flying. The wind was so strong that despite all my effort I couldn’t shut my mouth. I also couldn’t hear anything. All I could do was enjoy the feeling of weightlessness. People around me were clapping, my husband was giving me thumbs-up.

And suddenly I knew what cows feel like when a tornado takes them in the sky.

Bloody brilliant!

Skydiving is the most daring physical act I have done in years. It taught me a big lesson. Sometimes we just have to relax. All the participants who didn’t succeed were trying to do too much and in the process knocking against the walls or flipping over.

I am taking that lesson to my writing life as well. For the past four years, I have been trying to do too much. Writing books, daily posting on social media, running courses, writing articles and newsletters. No wonder I am banging against the wall and flipping over.

I made a decision. From now on I will concentrate on writing and publishing books.

The other form of writing will happen in between.

It is more of a strategic decision than an emotional one. Books have a much longer shelf life than social media posts, online articles, and newsletters. Writing books also fits with other commitments in my life. Online writing requires you to write every day and spend time engaging with audiences. That strips me of valuable time which I could spend reading books and going deep into topics.

I am not announcing quitting newsletter or online writing. In fact, I published my cruise story yesterday Cruising Was Not What I Thought It Would Be (Part 1) on Medium. All I am saying is that writing books will be my number 1 priority.