a live moment
Watch this video the bottom one, several times if you have to. You want to get the full flavor, that moment when your life hangs on a thread; any movement to extricate yourself further endangers you. Do you pray, cross your fingers? You sweat profusely, your body is screaming silently, all systems are high alert. You are so tense that when movement is required your body jerks uncoordinatedly and you have to right yourself to move. You are so sick you want to vomit, and you are cold.
Your enemies are a tag team of tigers working in tandem to unnerve you. They are rushing you psychologically to get you past fight stage. Why take a chance of being hurt? They’ve got you figured as easily maneuverable, a patsy. Of course, they are not working on an intellectual level, which is their advantage. Operating on pure instinct, they just know these things. You have been in scary situations in the past, not this scary, but situations in which a great deal was at stake. Something takes over and one lets go to the situation. You do not control it. A clipping posted on a outhouse wall at a cabin by the lake I rented had the account of a man who was mauled by a lion and he also spoke of this preternatural state one goes into. What beguiled me was his reporting that during the attack his body was not registering the pain being inflicted. He didn’t feel the attack.
Your mind becomes clear, clear as a bell whose high note pierces the surrounding air and for a moment the world is arrested. The feeling one experiences is freedom, one is absolutely free. Free of the world with its demands, its impositions, its awful pettiness. You are who you were meant to be all along. There is only you at this very moment contemplating a way out of the situation from hell. Whatever happens you want to honor yourself, you want to honor the Spirit that has brought this drama to your life and you understand that you have been given a opportunity to exhibit courage and humility. Karl Wallenda, patriarch of The Flying Wallendas said it best: Walking the tightwire is living; everything else is waiting.
The favorite essay this month has been, Garden.