I’m making this posting from Paradise Island, in the Bahamas, where I have been for the last several days for a work conference. Unfortunately it is raining and the beaches and pools are abandoned, but there is good high-speed interest for catching up with work and email.

Yesterday I joined a trio of colleagues at the resort’s water park. One slide rose approximately five stories, embedded in the face of a building in the shape of a Mayan temple providing a commanding view of the waters around Paradise Island. The dull rush of waves was punctuated by the occasional scream from the ride itself, chillingly titled: “The Leap of Faith.”

A high wall at the top of the pyramid prevented a direct view of the slide itself, and one sat at the entrance to the tubular slide, with water flowing from one’s back. The tube extended a few feet, so again one could not see what lay in front or below the slider, save for the metallic tube of the slide. The slider would assume “the position,” crossing their arms and legs, laying down, and letting the water push them over the brink.

With my heart picking up its pace, I could not help but think of the obvious metaphor for life itself. From the dramatic to the utterly mundane act of getting out of bed each morning, we are never certain what lies ahead, and nearly every act takes some minor leap of faith. In the case of the slide, I felt my feet hit open air, then a sudden flash of light, acceleration, noise and water inundated my senses before I was thrust into a pool to decelerate and gather my bearings. Like life, I the experience involved an element of fear and the unknown, but was vastly more enjoyable than sitting on the sidelines watching others take a leap of faith of their own.

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