One step to freedom?100% of the shots you never take, never get in".

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One Step to Freedom?

“100% of the shots you never take, never get in”.  

In the middle of the arid desert, Colorado.  A group of Cypriots and myself among them, crossed through the desert to reach the camping site where we would spend the night.  Continuously attacking us, the blazing sun followed our every footstep, as our bodies were melting down like defenceless ice cubes. After a couple of hundreds of metres of walk, my feet started to numb. I was exhausted.  My bottle, constantly in my hand, was running out of water.  

“Can my day get worse?”, I wondered.  

What I didn’t know was, that these obstacles were nothing compared to the inner conflict I would be going through soon.

        “Does anyone want to have a break?  Does anyone want to have a swim?”, Michael, our leader asked.  Suddenly the feelings of joy and excitement replaced the tiredness and everyone was now smiling; I noticed I was smiling too.  Impatiently we all followed Michael.  That is when I first came face to face with my own Via Dolorosa.  The worst of all is that I was not aware of how difficult it would be for me, that small step I was asked to take, for which I had to grapple hard with my own thoughts and deepest fears which I was not even aware of.  How can you fight something you cannot see?

        Following the flow of my friends and climbing on a small hill, I reached the beginning of my slow and painful torture.  I was standing at the edge of a rocky knoll, about three metres above the ground and beneath me, a tiny lake with crystal clear water.  I could already picture myself, in the lake, with the cool water fighting off the heat, while my body was enjoying the luxuries of nature.  As I lowered my head to face my reflection on the calm surface of the lake, the truth hit me in the face.  I will never forget how shocked I was when I realised I was not ready; I couldn’t jump; I didn’t want to.

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“Nicola, are you going to jump or not?”, Shane asked me.

The question brought me to my senses like . . . . . . .

“No. Go on.  I will go later.”, I replied.

        While watching them jumping with such comfort, as if it was fun, as if they were enjoying themselves, I felt angry with myself. Why had I stopped? It couldn’t be that difficult, after all nobody else seemed to find it challenging, on the contrary they all thought of it as amusing.  If they could do it, so could I.

All of a sudden I changed ...

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