It takes a ton and a half of courage to jump out of a plane, but so does getting there in the first place. You don't just jump all of a sudden and out of nowhere, you prepare. There is a decision that needs to be made. A decision to look past the fear you may have, the nerves, and the feeling that this is not something your body is supposed to be doing. Avoiding danger and surviving is what brought humans to this point in history. Jumping out of planes goes against all that.
Once you made the decision to jump out of a plane, you had to drive to the tarmac, sign a bunch of paperwork, get the gear on, get on the plane, sit at the edge looking down into nothing and everything, and jump. It a series of little decisions that lead to the one you made that could cost you your life, if all goes wrong. At any point during the process, you could have turned back, changed your mind, and there are very few people that would blame you. Life is precious, but you ignored that fact and I am so jealous.
To overcome instinct and basic humans fears is something to be commended, always. You jumped out of a fucking plane down towards the earth that already wants to swallow you whole on a daily basis. That's monumental. I can't even board a commercial flight to paradise without panicking internally (and externally).
You are the person I strive to be; brave and needfully reckless. Never mind the massive rock that you're careening towards at full speed, you have full faith in the parachute that's going to whisk you gently towards an unforgiving world and you're going to step down and take hold of your life, just like you do every other day. Both equally difficult and you do so with grace and perseverance.
What was it like to barrel through clouds and see the world in full view? Did you think of all the people going about their boring business below you? For a few moments you were above of us all and that's a place you rightfully deserve. The skies are for the best of us and you are that and more. One day, I hope to join you.