By: Liz Sgro

As we crossed the last bridge on our first trek through a Ghanaian trail, I found myself having to make my voice louder to overpower a growing sound of white noise as I was talking to my friends. A mist began to hit my face and the blue background from the sky between the trees became white. Peering around the corner, I found that we were finally there: Wli Falls. For a brief moment, I paused. I stared ahead at the source of the mist-filled air at the bottom of the crashing falls in this shallow pool of murky water and algae-covered skipping rocks. The sun hit this collision of water just right to create a sheer rainbow in a corner of the pool, making it look like an entrancing CGI set of an Avatar movie. My jaw dropped and I leaned back as I traced the path of the waterfall up the cliffside. Bats and colorful tropic birds swirled around vines and trees at the top of the fall making floating in the water seem like an ideal activity once I was to hit the water. As I kept thinking about it while taking in the view, my feet took control and I sprinted towards the little beach over roots and unsteady boards that were set up over babbling runoff creeks. I needed to get in the water.

I was quickly followed by Melina as she was equally as eager for this refreshing swim. We set our bags by a log, got into our bathing suits, and clumsily rushed into the brisk water. We kept holding each other up as we stumbled over rocks, all while simultaneously surprised that the water was not getting deeper. A man from the beach followed us in soon after and told us that we could go under the cascading water. Before he finished talking, I rushed for the wall. As I rolled over more rocks, I found my way with the help of this man and he lifted me to the wall. We stood there with our arms pinned on the rock wall, feet too scared and implanted to take another step, and eyes too weak to stay open. The pressure of the water from 80 meters high fell upon our heads and impaired our ability to hear or see each other, let alone breathe very well on our own. Despite only being knee-deep in the water, the pressure made it hard for me to stand there and stay afloat. It made me focus on my breathing and heart rate as the power was strenuous on my body. Just as I was getting used to it, I tilted my head off of the rock slightly and was pounded by a rush of water forcing me off the rock and out of the mist to catch my breath.

I left to go get my friends who were still on the beach. We waded in the water, took some pictures, and waited for everyone to feel comfortable enough to stand underneath the waterfall. People swam to different spots in the pool to explore while others floated to watch the birds coast and circle above. Eventually, everyone was drawn back together to achieve reaching the wall of the fall. One by one we reached it and helped each other up to stand against the wall to avoid as much water as possible. Some people even swam farther in search of a cave or grotto but instead were met with a more torrential downpour. We all just stood there trying to gauge the best ways to not drown all while laughing and hollering in glee to show each other that despite the communal struggle, we were all fine and in a state of contentment. Everyone being there somehow made it easier. The pressure, the stress, and the fear of not exiting the waterfall were somehow put at ease with the presence of the family of friends I have spent the last 3 weeks curating. That’s when I started thinking. The waterfall helped me realize something I’ve been trying to understand for a while.

It showed me my eagerness to do or achieve something does not always have to be so rushed but it can be paced. In other words, I see this as my unnecessary desire to rapidly reach adulthood and independence. The bottom of the waterfall helped me conceptualize a symbol for how my goal of reaching adulthood and going into life with an open and eager attitude isn’t always automatically greeted with success, luxury, peace, and happiness as I always assume it will be. Rather, growing up and rushing your life can lead you to take on more responsibilities and awareness of staying afloat in your own life. Life’s undeniable pressures.

Then, I thought about my controlled breathing and being with my group and how the pressure lightened. I began thinking of it in the way of, sure, you’re going to stumble over your fair share of rocks and feel unsteady and unsure in some ways through your life journey, but you’ll get up. And even when you feel like you can’t, others who care about you will be there to help you reach your goals. I realized that even though these goals of living out successful adulthood at a younger age might be greeted with heightened stress, pressure, and responsibilities of daily life, it’s about who you choose to lean on and the people you surround yourself with to make it easier to stay afloat.

I will step out and try different paths in life but regardless of what path I will choose, I will always find myself with a sense of pressure from adulthood and the uncertainties of the future. But it’ll only be made easier by my community who make the struggle and journey a worthwhile experience. Overall, this was a wake-up call for me to slow down, enjoy the smaller moments in life, focus on the positives, and appreciate those in my life who make the harder times easier.