Here I sit in a coffee shop in downtown Brisbane marveling at the artwork that is my cappuccino. I absolutely love foam artwork, probably because it’s both beautiful and delicious. This is such a perfect moment.

As I survey my surroundings, I start thinking of all the steps I’ve taken to get to this particular place, at this particular moment, in this particular region of the globe. It’s been a long journey and isn’t anywhere near done. But really, how did I get here?

I mentally rewind the moments in my head, backing them up through the preceding months. I watch myself walk backwards on the plane, unpack my suitcase, repack my suitcase, fly backwards in time to the Northwest, skip my way down the steps of Montmartre, slide up the side of a volcano, and perfectly seal all the rejection letters from the psychology graduate programs and place them back in the mailbox. Wait. Play. I watch myself cry and use the envelopes of the letters as tear-catchers. I watch myself log onto WordPress and write my very first blog post. Wait. Pause. Has it really been a year since I began this unconventional journey?

Okay, I am the first to admit that I hate asking for help. I would rather walk down the Las Vegas Strip barefoot in the deadly summer heat than ask my friends or family to spot me a twenty. But unfortunately for my pride, this time around I need you to help me achieve one of my long fantasized and romanticized adventures: skydiving somewhere beautiful.

Photo courtesy of Bucket List Publications

When I was seventeen I wrote out my first bucket list (naturally, in sparkly pink gel pen). Skydiving was one of the first things I scribbled down in my cramped unabomber handwriting. I remember confidently deciding this was the perfect experience for me because it combined by biggest fear (falling to my death) with my most coveted super-hero power (flying).