I vividly remember when one of my New Zealand friends told me her husband liked to "go bombing" on the weekends.
Being from America, land of the easily obtained arsenal, I thought this meant he went out into the woods somewhere and set off bombs for fun. Being from America, I didn't find this to be overly odd.
But obviously, the look on my face gave me away. "You do know what that is, right?" she asked.
Turns out "bombing" in New Zealand is something like cannonball--ing at home. It's the act of jumping off a wharf, a high diving board, a pontoon, a railing, a rock, heck, a lamppost, into deep water, over and over again. It's a celebration of sorts, of nature, of fun, of living in the moment. Whole crowds of people -- young, old and everywhere in between -- gather to cheer each other on as brave bombers jump feet first into the water below, trying to make the biggest splash of the day.
I now know, it's SO TOTALLY a New Zealand thing to do.
As this article on the best spots to "drop bombs" in Auckland notes: "The love of dropping bombs starts as a child, with older relations and neighbourhood friends attempting to blow you out of the water and assert dominance of territory. But as you get older and undoubtedly size becomes your friend (before it becomes your enemy), you find yourself competing with the best of them, clocking the roof at aquatic centres around the country and eventually moving on to the more adventurous challenges."
I've seen large, older Samoan men, who could have family members in the NFL, bombing off the high dive at the community pool. Throngs of people stand and watch, waiting for the spray these giants create when they hit the water. I've seen whole families bombing off rocks at the famous Cathedral Cove in the Coromandel, no worries about the waves crashing wildly over them. Last week, on the national holiday of Waitangi Day (similar to our Fourth of July), we watched as dozens of people jumped off a wharf in the North Shore, one after the other, for hours on end.
I haven't been brave enough to try a high jump yet, though my kids have done their fair share of bombing off wooden pontoons that float at some of the beaches here. But I LOVE this whole idea. And I think it's such a metaphor for what we've done in our move abroad. (I know, I'm getting deep. Hang with me for a minute :)
Here's what bombing is not: It's not about doing a perfect 10-point dive into calm waters, leaving as little splash as possible in your wake. It's not about inching your way in, one toe at a time. It's not even, really, about getting into the water.
It's about taking that leap -- throwing your whole self, your whole body into the moment with as much joy, power and presence as you can muster. And the splash at the end? That's just your -- and the crowd's -- extra reward. If that doesn't sound like a good way to live, I don't know what does.
And when thinking about that attitude in regards to our move, I can't help but see similarities.
Back in Washington, D.C., we were at the end of our wharf. We knew something had to give, something had to change if we were to keep moving forward. We had no room left on the dock and no energy left to backtrack to land. But we had this opportunity calling us from the waters below.
We could have given in to fear, and inched over the edge, little by little. Maybe holding onto our home in Virginia just in case the move didn't work out, or sending Shane on his own to test out the waters. We could have attempted a perfect-10 swan dive, landing in a life that looked more like the "successful" one we left behind -- me working full-time too, chasing a career that had already chased the life out of me.
But we didn't. The chance to move abroad was a "bombs away" moment for us, and we handled it in the most New Zealand way possible -- even though we didn't know that at the time.
We sold or gave away as much of our stuff as we could. We said goodbye to high-stress jobs and committed ourselves to a different kind of life, one focused on family, on home, on slowing down, on getting outside. We took a giant leap with little knowledge of what waited for us below. But we trusted that we'd find our footing and float to the top, hopefully making a splash along the way.
We jumped in to our move abroad with both feet, an idiom I can now fully appreciate, and we continue to live by that philosophy. Holding back, inching in, reaching for perfection -- that's just not our game anymore.
We're New Zealanders now. We live for the leap. :)
