Analysis

[poliphilo]

I'm not brave. Not constitutionally brave. Give me time to consider the perils of a given situation and I'll usually do the sensible- cowardly- thing. But once in a while I get caught out. Events move too fast and there I suddenly am, in the thick of it, with a gang of kids waving burning sticks in my face and instead of turning away I keep ploughing on.

I remember the incident as a series of stills. The bits in between- the connections between image A and image B- have disappeared.  A kid is blocking the gate into the alley. I know I got past him- but how exactly did I do it? Did I push him aside, or dodge him or did he retreat before me? I really don't know.

I was clearly in some sort of altered state of consciousness. How interesting!

And the altered state carried me through until the task I'd set myself was completed. In all I made three trips from the kitchen to the fire.  The stick waving and the verbals got worse and worse, but my nerve held. Then I stepped back onto my property, shut the gate- and started to shake. 

I'm tempted to say I did a stupid thing, but, then again I'm convinced that- risky or not- it was the right thing. I may have been in an altered state, but I was also completely under control. I didn't offer violence and I didn't say anything abusive. I gave them as little provocation as possible and just slid between them and did what I had to do. 

Could I do it again? Probably not.

Comments

[greybeta.livejournal.com]

Indiscretion is the worst part of courage.