Thin air and
occasional wisp of water vapor from majestic Victoria Falls fills 111-meter gap that separates swirling waters of Zambezi and steel-girded bridge spanning river. A similarly tenuous and invisible medium, vision and determination, bridges gap separating average Internet business from a $100 000 income.
A pedestrian crossing bridge connecting Zimbabwe and Zambia would hardly notice slight protrusion on its edge, if it weren’t for feverish crowd that perpetually mobs narrow platform. They congregate here for thrill of watching those foolish, or brave – always matter of opinion – that plummet into abyss with a rope tied around their ankles.
The Webmaster who finds a way to attract an equally feverish crowd to their website, will see money flow into bank like gushing waters of Zambezi below bridge.
But to create a thrill you have to jump!!! Standing at edge of narrow platform I was preparing to do just that…jump. But anticipatory thrill of dive was being overwhelmed by intense sensation of fear as moment drew near.
While jumpmaster was adjusting rope around my ankles, I stared at wild waters below…and thought.
‘What if rope snaps?’
Perched at edge of abyss with an inch thick rope - or a sensible decision - separating me from eternity, wasn’t exactly appropriate moment to think of consequences.
“Will I ever learn?”
I did same with Internet. Lured by promises of overnight riches by marketing “gurus”, I jumped headlong into Internet business. It costed me a lot of pain, heartache, disappointment and money. It came close to costing me everything that I had worked for my entire life.
“Well, I survived that one.”
That thought comforted me a little and shifted my mind into a more philosophical mode.
“What drives a human to do this crazy thing risking death or injury for an act that serves no purpose, or to leave a perfectly good business to plunge into hazy world of Internet?”
“Should I turn back?”
Hundreds of spectators lined rails of bridge and fringes of my life. The embarrassment would be too great.
The jumpmaster stopped fiddling with rope and stood up.
“Ready?” He asked.
“Ready.” I replied. My voice shook a little.
He extended his arm towards horizon - that’s where I was supposed to look - and started counting.
10…9…8. The crowd counted with him. I had about seven seconds to change my mind. Remnants of thrill were snuffed out of my mind by relentless fear.
3…2…1…bungyyyyyyy. The roar of crowd was frenzied.
I leaped. The acceleration of my falling body astounded me. Instinctively, I extended my hands in front of me to brake fall. An irrational and futile gesture.
The surging waters of Zambezi were meters from my head when elasticity of rope catapulted me back towards bridge.
