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There was a moment . . .


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Author Topic: There was a moment . . .  (Read 89 times)
Omnia
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« on: August 02, 2008, 02:35:27 pm »
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 . . .  when I locked up.
That is, my body and mind suddenly zeroed in on fear.
It was very much like enjoying the perfect walk along a woodland path without a care in the world,
when out of the blue I fall into a pit of treacle. 
How the hell did this happen?
How did I go from being at peace, and then seconds later being in the throes of fear?

I live deep in the countryside, unless I choose to be seen,  no one knows that I’m here . . . and so,
swimming al natural on warm summer evenings  was one of my great joys

A simple pleasure that liberates and it's easy to do.
You just  take off your clothes and put on your skin.
There's nothing more to it than that.
It's an activity I did privately and not as a public show and tell. 

So, there I was at 11:00 pm at night, treading water alone in the deep of a nearby lake,
mesmerized by the stars and the rising full moon and its silvery light rippling across the surface of black-sheened water.
The more conscious I am of the light and water, the more the sense of my body dissolves into a sublime stillness.
The last things I remembered hearing were the water's lapping sound and the hoot of an owl, coming from the wood.   

The stillness was so poignant that my awareness to my own breathing ceased.
Then suddenly and without invitation . . .

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caskur
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« Reply #1 on: August 02, 2008, 03:07:28 pm »
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What?   Shocked

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Omnia
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« Reply #2 on: August 02, 2008, 03:35:48 pm »
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The stillness was so poignant that my awareness to my own breathing ceased.

Then suddenly and without invitation . . .

a recognition presents itself in my otherwise calm mind.
I knew this stillness. I had been in it before.
I was surrounded by it and aware of it before I was born.
I was in this stillness, if not in fact of it.

The  next moment, I am seized by fear . . .
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caskur
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« Reply #3 on: August 02, 2008, 05:18:11 pm »
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To me, the fear was, a spirit was probably watching you and you felt its presence.
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Omnia
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« Reply #4 on: August 02, 2008, 06:18:49 pm »
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The  next moment, I am seized by fear . . .

My relaxed body tensed, my toes began to cramp, and my moments-before
quite mind entered a panic room of thoughts.

My chest was heavy, as if feeling the weight of the water of the entire lake.
My breathing  so clenched that my lungs  were reduced to short stabs of air.
I was  in too deep of water to touch the bottom and my body's rigidity stopped me from swimming to the shallow . . .

I'm going to die was the  thought that came to me . . .
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Omnia
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« Reply #5 on: August 03, 2008, 01:59:40 pm »
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Images accompanied by intense feelings for my family and friends come next in my mind.
Then I find myself saying out loud, "Oh, ****!"
An unknown voice then asks the following in my head ~ "Is that the best you can do at the moment of your death, say, "Oh ****?""
I laugh.
Or am I crying?

My legs and arms are stiff, and they can't paddle anymore to keep me afloat.
I inhale a nose full of water and cough in pain.
The moon's brightness irritates my eyes and for some strange reason
my thoughts recall the Hey Diddle Diddle nursery rhyme.

The water is agitated like I'm being rocked in a boat
“The little dog laughed to see such fun . . .”
Please God, I don't want to die, I plead . . .
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Omnia
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« Reply #6 on: August 04, 2008, 04:52:28 am »
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At least not naked like this . . .
and then that unknown voice revisits my thoughts and says,
"Do you believe your **** vanity?
You’re  seconds away from taking your last breath and you're worried about how you're going to look naked.
You're going to look dead, that's how you're going to appear to everyone who loves you. Dead!"

I hear the owl hoot  it seems to be closer now.
"My God, I don't want to die," I say out loud.
 It hoots again, then again and again.
There's an urgency in its hoots.
As the owl continues hooting I can see the sound waves of its cry.   

I begin trying to paddle my way towards the shallow edge,
staying in alignment with these sound waves, it’s like I'm moving through a tunnel.
The owl's hoots become louder and more frequent.
Then I feel my feet touch the bottom.

I can stand in the water.
God, does this feel good.
I hear one last, plaintive hoot from the owl.

I lay on the earth, listening to the water  and looking at a moon so close I could  poke my finger at it.   
I keep repeating "My God, I don't want to die."
Then, all I am saying over and over is, “Oh God . .. God . . ."
 
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