Taking a Big Leap | SkyJump

Ending 2022 With A Big Leap

While in Las Vegas for a wedding last month, I jumped at the opportunity to take an 855′ leap from The Stratosphere tower on the strip. I wasn’t nervous at all until I saw someone do it. The time from the 3, 2, 1 countdown to me moving felt like a very long moment. The SkyJump was more thrilling than any ride I’ve been on and even more than parachuting. The only time I did that was a tandem jump, so taking that first/last step wasn’t up to me. You can see the video of my SkyJump here:

Here’s the view from the ground, shot by my wife.

One thing that hit me, which I couldn’t put into words right away, was the difference between taking that leap into nothingness for fun versus taking a jump for my demise. On the SkyJump, my nerves vanished once I jumped from the platform, and I experienced joy, thrills, and fun. Nothing in my being communicated that this was a bad idea. I felt completely safe, even though I had no idea how the mechanism that would slow me down worked. I didn’t even ask about it.

I’ve also had the experience of standing atop a building, believing I wanted to die, and trying to get myself to take a much less fun jump. At that moment, everything in my body and energy was saying don’t take this step. There was tremendous resistance, fear, and trepidation. I ended up calling a suicide support line for the first time.

While plummeting through the Vegas night, full of adrenaline and joy, it struck me how fearless the experience was. There was no concern or desire to go splat on the ground. I felt safe and alive, thrilled to be alive.

Whereas in my attempted doom jump, I couldn’t get myself to take that one step into nothingness. I hated myself then, judging myself as weak and pathetic, but looking back, I was safe in a very different way. My better aspects wouldn’t let me take that seemingly one small step.

The first half of 2022 was a dark crucible. I didn’t feel fully alive until July. I knew I wanted a year-end celebration. The SkyJump was a Leap of Life for me. A victory lap for all I had persevered through. I will never forget it and hope to do it again.

I wish you your own Leap of Life this year, a celebration of you and all you have made it through.

If you are in crisis and contemplating any sort of doom jump, please text or call 988 for immediate support.


Be well,


About The Author
Andy Grant

Andy Grant is a best-selling author, award-winning speaker, Transformational Energy Coach, Healer, and suicide prevention activist. He holds certificates in Positive Psychology, the Enwaken Coaching System, Infinite Possibilities, The Modern Mystery School, and more.

Andy teaches workshops ranging from energy tools to ebook publishing. He is the founder of Real Men Feel, a movement encouraging men to come out of the emotional closet. As a survivor of multiple suicide attempts, Andy knows how low we, as human beings, can feel. He is committed to helping people realize how magnificent life is meant to be.


Emotions and Vacations

Everybody loves vacations, right?

Apparently not, since 47% of Americans didn’t take all of their vacation time in 2017 and 21% left more than five available vacation days up for grabs.

Above the Treasury at Petra

Above the iconic Treasury at Petra, Jordan.

My wife and I recently returned home for a two week trip to the Middle East, spending one week in Israel and the next week in Jordan. The rock-carved city of Petra was the main reason behind the trip. But both countries had a lot to offer and warrant repeat visits.

We had a fantastic time full of ancient sites, sacred places, and friendly people. I learned a lot about the religion and politics of the area and found I had many misconceptions about the Middle East from growing up in the US. My time in Israel was probably the most intellectually and politically challenging trip I’ve taken. We talked with Arabs, Jews, Christians, Muslims, Palestinians, Isralies, and Jordanians.

Toward the final days, I noticed moments of sadness that things were winding down.

The sadness was mixed with a feeling that two weeks was long enough and I was ready to return home. I recalled years earlier when it was normal for me to feel depressed with days remaining of a vacation because I so dreaded my return to daily life.

Some people like vacations of sitting on the beach and doing nothing. I prefer active holidays where I do things I don’t usually do, especially when I worked as a cube dweller for corporate America.

When I tried to just lay on the beach in the past, my thoughts would turn negative. I’d focus on all the things I didn’t like instead of relaxing. Then I’d drink to remove those thoughts. That worked in the short term, but if I just wanted to drink, I could do that at home much cheaper, so I quickly stopped those sort of trips too.

I’ve visited such places as Machu Pichu, Stonehenge, and Easter Island. I’ve been white water rafting, rappelling, and hiking in Europe, South America, and Africa. A staycation can be nice, but my favorite vacations are ones when I need another vacation to recover from them.

Floating in the Dead Sea

Floating in the Dead Sea

Even today, I can recall being in the jungles of Belize in 2005, but feeling very down because the following Monday I’d be back at work. It was a time that I thought I hated my job, and sometimes my life. Yet, a few days prior, I was enjoying myself and life.

These realizations helped me learn the power of being present.

When fully present, I felt better. I wondered why was it that I was time traveling in my thinking.

Why was I ignoring the fantastic experiences I was having to jump forward to my return to the mundane?

I decided that since I could be full of energy and joy on a vacation when I was present and focused on what I was doing, that I would do my best to live like I was on vacation. All the time.

I did pretty well at that for a long time. Treating each day like it was new. Looking for things that were unusual, special, and fun. If those weren’t apparent, I find a way to bring those elements to what I was doing.

The Western Wall

The Western Wall, or Wailing Wall, in the Old City of Jerusalem.

So as I noticed some sadness as this trip was winding down, I explored what exactly I was feeling sad about.

I was going to miss the people. We were a group of 13 in Israel and then 16 in Jordan. I liked my instant family of global citizens traveling, sharing, dining together for long days full of once in a lifetime experiences.

Back home, I often work in isolation. I sometimes forget to admit to myself that I actually like people. I was going to miss having a guide take me to amazing new places every day. I was going to miss having every day planned by someone else when I just needed to show up and be marveled. I would miss walking into restaurants and recognizing a dozen faces. There was no responsibility or stress. Just being present and amazed.

Realizing that I was sad over what was ending as opposed to what I was returning to, made me smile.