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These pictures of people jumping from the twin towers on September 11th came up as part of a discussion on the loss of innocence.

As children we find safety in our naive conviction that our parents will always be there to protect us. That we are in a sense immortal. It is a belief system reinforced by the fairy tales we read - repeatedly, hypnotically - internalizing the ideology they preach.

As we grow up, we should naturally be learning that our lives are not myths or fairy tales, that they do not always end in the triumph of good over evil. They will often be difficult, unfair, confusing and sometimes tragic. They will end too soon. There will be too much hard work, and too little love. Wickedness will often triumph, joy will cost dearly, and black and white become so many shades of grey. Not everyone gets what he or she deserves. So often no one will be there to catch us when we fall.

Too often we choose instead to keep our fairy tales; we live our lives hoping for rescue. We close our eyes, hunker down, hold on tight and wait. Wait for a soul mate to care for us unconditionally, or perhaps for an afterlife of eternal bliss. Sitcoms, soap operas, harlequin romances, computer games, bible study, extreme makeovers, lotteries, placebos.. Our grown-up fairy tales perpetuating such lives of narrow vision.

To me there is a beauty in facing that reality. Courage, a freedom, a choice. A wealth of opportunity not otherwise available. I believe the parts of life that make us feel most strongly are the most valuable. So much time is spent going through the motions. Our lives pass by so quickly, and at the end we have felt so little - or we somehow miss what was truly important.

To me these photos embody the capacity of humanity to accept the reality of our lives – even if only in our moments of crisis. In that moment, I think these people had to realize that rescue was not imminent, and that they finally had to make a decision, and take control of their own lives. They did not hunker down and wait for the flames. They were not passive. They made a choice, a difficult, frightening and horrible choice. They cast themselves into space, fully conscious of the reality of life. The power to choose was in their own hands. All the freedom the world has to offer, laid open before them in those seconds between the fire and the void.

Or did they believe, for those ten long seconds of free-fall, that rescue was still coming? Did they make that choice simply to keep the fairy tale alive for ten more seconds, the last precious ten seconds of their entire lives?

These photos aren't tasteless, or exploitative. They should be a place for thought – and life – to begin.