Today I have had yet another mortality check. I love skydiving: the people, the thrill, the sport... but I hate the fact that it has claimed yet another life. One of the main reasons I have decided to give it up, is not my safety. It is not for my son. It is because I felt myself becoming immune to mourning. The reality is, if you are a skydiver, your friends will die. But it is also an industry (and lifestyle) which enables people to put up walls. I don't want to be a person who just shrugs, has a beer and then accepts that yet another comrade has fallen. I want to be able to feel sadness and rejoice that we were able to share memories and moments together during our short time on this earth. The attitude among most is one of acceptance. I never want to become complacent with life, and certainly never want to stop living... I choose to feel emotion, and not to block it out behind a front fuelled with bravado.