It was an uneventful Saturday night. Snooker on the TV, which is always a bonus as it keeps my father happy. The central heating banged up high, to keep the January cold out.
I had stayed too long in the same position. And felt dehydrated, having long ago finished my caffeine drink. As I became hotter and hotter, my lethargy increased. I needed a big glass of water, but couldn’t be arsed to get off the sofa. Each minute of immobility chipping away further at my motivation. Dad was absorbed by the slow clicking of the coloured balls. My ceaseless fretting about him had stopped, temporarily. Why disrupt a peaceful moment?
“Kev, can you get me a toothpick please?”
All good things must end. So, I hoisted myself up, stood fully, and felt the dizziness come rushing. To steady myself, I reached towards the handle of the cupboard with the toothpicks, just a few feet away.
Then I was laying on the kitchen floor, next to the overturned bin. Shoulder and neck slightly numbed, vaguely painful. Unsure of this new world, but all instincts urging me to get up, get my bearings, assess the damage, see if any bones were broken. I forced myself to my feet, noticing Dad trying to raise himself to come to my aid, and hearing Maureen rush up the stairs.
The very weird thing was how good I felt. Everything was brand new. Adrenalin and endorphins smashing around my system, I could walk, could swing my bruised arm and shoulder. Could twist my neck. I was grinning nervously at my wife. Quivering a little with the shock.
Here’s the kicker. Despite the shaking, it felt not unlike coming out of a very deep meditation. Like the one described in Blog 231 (https://wordpress.com/post/thebiscuitfactoryonline.com/2413). There was a lingering legacy – if such a thing is possible – of two or three seconds of unconsciousness. Of going into the void and emerging with more of a feeling than a recollection. Touched, for the briefest of moments, by an indescribable sweetness.
Lots of me hurt for the next few days. The bin was twisted beyond repair and had to be thrown away. I’m fully aware of the luck that it cushioned my fall. Could have broken my collar bone or even my neck.
I’m so grateful that I didn’t seriously injure myself. Although it’s boring I’ve been drinking much more water in subsequent weeks.
But where did I go for those few seconds, as my body fell? It’s a gorgeous mystery.