By Schyler Sanks
Staff Writer
Channel 3000

MADISON, Wis. -- Ever since I was a child, I have wanted to fly.

Not just fly in an airplane or a rocket ship, but actually fly -- like a bird. Every time I look into the sky and into the clouds, I feel a sense of home. My soul is drawn to the heavens.

As I grew older, the yearning to be "up there" grew with me, and one day, it dawned on me: Skydiving. Yes, skydiving was the answer. What better way to follow my dream of flight than to jump out of a plane? To me, it was the only logical answer.

I knew it would be quite the spiritual experience, but what is such an experience if there is no one to share it with? Lucky for me, I knew just the person to share it with -- my wonderfully beautiful friend, Taylor.

After all the calls were made, we were set to go on the first Saturday in June. It was to be a beautiful day among the clouds, with the sun falling upon our backs. But as it turned out, we couldn't go on that particular day because of heavy cloud cover and rain.

The next weekend, however, everything was good to go. We were to be skydiving by about mid-afternoon. I had no idea what to expect going into this whole thing, except an adrenaline rush.

Upon arrival, we had to take a class on the basics. There wasn't much to learn because it was a tandem skydive, meaning we would each be strapped to an instructor during freefall. After the class and the paper work (which explained how they weren't liable in the event of our death), we were set to get dressed and go jump.

At first, I had a sleek black jumpsuit picked out, but I decided to change into a flashier suit with a leopard print. Before I knew it, it was time to hop into the Cessna and go up to jump -- from 10,000 feet.

The plane ride up was amazing, and I took in the view above the clouds. I felt unusually comfortable up there, like I was destined to do this. After about 10 minutes, I heard the pilot say, "Half mile!" I knew we were about to jump.

My instructor, Bo, strapped my back to his belly and positioned us at the door. When the door flung open, I stuck my head out for some fresh air. With the air flowing past me, I took a deep breath. The air was definitely fresher up there.

Bo had asked me if I had any last words. "Life is too short not to go skydiving," is all I could muster.

In a matter of a few seconds, we were out of the plane. With my arms and legs spread out in a flying squirrel fashion, I was finally flying. I felt completely at home, falling through the sky at 120 mph. There is nothing like it.

For the first time in my life, my mind was free of clutter and all thought became fluid. I could not describe anything more enlightening.

As the parachute opened, I felt as if I was floating. And as I coasted through the sky towards the ground, everything seemed crystal clear. I was focused, yet aloof; spiritually grounded yet physically flying. I was at home.

Some people believe in the Bible, some the Torah, and some people don't believe at all. I am not one to judge what others believe because I believe that you should pursue what puts your soul at peace. Skydiving was exactly that for me. It is now my form of meditation.

I have no doubt that I will go again and that in the future I will be jumping much more often. For anyone who is contemplating the matter, my advice is to just go for it. And as Leonardo once said, "For once you have tasted flight, you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return."