Left alone quite by chance yesterday evening, I finished my dinner, cleared up, and took a comfy chair (with a cushion) to enjoy the sweep of woods bathed in the silver of an enormous moon.
I was gazing at the stars and treetops when struck down by Panic. Whatever the brain does when it loses it, mine lost it. Even the cicadas were singing still (if they had done one of their unaccountable pauses it would have been a rout). Beginning with the faintest apprehension, the sensation that large forces were watching me swept across the terrace. Rationality hung on as German and other folk wood stuff waved. But the desire to get up, unlock the nearest door to the house and never, no never, look over my shoulder, prevailed.
So I did (open the door and go in quietly, I mean). Instantly the sensation ended - though I did shut all the shutters carefully. Funny things brains. And feelings. How accurate is our view that we have a commonality of interpretation of the world around us? Had there not been the support of so many accounts of Panic from the earliest times to the present day (as you say) I would wonder if a minor madness had seized me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment