mud thing



Symptoms of a sudden drop in blood sugar, commonly known as low blood sugar, may present as the following: hunger, fatigue, shakiness, headaches, confusion, dizziness, sudden moodiness or behavior changes, sweating, and pale skin color.

The event occurred prior to the days of the paunch, back in my athletic era. I was always training for this race or that: running, skating or bicycling. It didn’t matter which sport, as long as I could push my body into complete exhaustion was prize enough for the chase. Was this some sort of avoidance of life issues, of course it was but that’s between me and the analyst, if only I had had one. In case some of you skeptics are still in the room and want the satisfaction of having me produce the smoking gun rather than leave it buried under a bushel of leaves in the forest of my myth, I will oblige. For two days prior to the event, I had embarked upon and dare I say executed some of the most phenomenal sporting exhibits known only to Ironmen hopefuls. I was on a sports geek diet, the fad of the hour, I admit that both my carbohydrate intake and sugar intake were less than satisfactory

I have had good days playing basketball, many more bad days, and a lifetime of mediocre days. Yet I have only had one day when the force was with me so strong, that I scared myself. Anything I attempted to do worked. Shots I have never dared shoot, moves I had never had the height nor dexterity to maneuver were executed flawlessly and with all the grace of Kobe, high on a fifth of ballet. I played four times the amount of games that I usually play and still had energy to burn but the whole experience weirded me out. I felt like I was in “the Universe of Me” and everything and everyone else was subject to my whims. No, this didn’t feel right, sort of what I suspect the condemned man’s last meal is all about. I felt something tragic was waiting, lurking somewhere, down there in the paint of mortality, looming like a big Shaq, waiting to block not only my shot, but me as well, out of existence.

As Keifer Sutherland proclaims in Flatliners, Today is a good day to die. And such a day it was. The sun was shining at perfect wattage, a crisp breeze blew off the ocean, the beach and the boardwalk were filled with a menagerie of happy go lucky, wide eyed tourist, bursting with joy, taking in every scenario, revealing at this performer, amazed at that juggler, playful amused and shocked by that thong wearer, mildly curious about that bum, bravely being beaten down by that wave, dodging the deposits of that gull; it was truly a good day to live, for most.

T-60 Minutes

Sunday was full of more athletic endeavors, this time skating and bicycling. The cycling continued into the evening hours. On my bicycle, I attempted to negotiate a turn into a darkened alleyway. I lost my balance and braced myself for the fall to come.

Houston, We Have Liftoff

Ever notice how time slows down, for the participant only, while in the midst of an accident? Although the accident is most assuredly taking place in real time, you are able to see every aspect of the accident as it occurs in half speed yet, still you are unable to prevent it or even soften it blow. Now this particular accident had me seeing the events around me not just at half speed, but at all eternity speed, out of time and space speed. I saw not just my lifetime, a phenomenon those who have experienced life-threatening situations can attest to; I saw all of creation. I was shown all the secrets of the Universe (but by whom?)  All of this took place from the time the bike faltered to that awful angle, to me hitting the concrete. A time span which was probably no more than a second or so. There I was lying flat on the ground, face down, lips to concrete. Knowledge of the entire history of the Universe fizzing away or perhaps being moved to some inaccessible region of my subconscious or back to the collective consciousness from which it probably originated. I lay there, oblivious to pain, in a state of frozen bliss. How long I remained there, frozen with ecstasy, I do not know. The space time continuum was a mute point. Some one must have spotted me and phoned in for medical assistance. The arrival of the ambulance was my first acknowledgement of the reality around me. The attendant asked me several questions, but as Peter was after seeing the divinity of Christ, I could only babble. As they loaded me in to the ambulance, I assumed that sheet may have gotten caught on a sleeve or a handle and at some point touched and/or covered a portion of my face. Wait a minute, the entire Universe had been revealed to me, they are putting me in an ambulance, I feel the sheet covering my face, therefore I must be dead. I let go of I.

STANDARD FARE

There are those who have temporarily had the life knocked out of them. There are those who are said to be at such a high level of understanding the nature of existence that they can voluntarily leave the corpus behind and go for a Sunday stroll on Jupiter. I was in neither of those categories. In fact, I think I might be the only person who logically, yet erroneously, assumed that they were dead because of circumstantial evidence.

However you get here, just get here if you can, and the fare seems to be the same no matter which method of travel you arrive by. There was the dark tunnel and the light, however in my experience the light was me, or more correctly, that divine self that is I. That I was just an itty bitty blue flame that powered my former machine-like shell.

I arrived at a great place, a mountain of shimmering lights of all colors and hues. I much wanted to rejoin that luminous mountain and assume my rightful place. I was stopped at the entrance by a presence of no particular form, color, hue or lighting. Somehow this invisible yet defined presence entreated I for disclosure of I’s point of origin. Surprisingly, the “I” did not identify itself as anything associated with the me. I guess the ego of individuality was of little concern in this realm. Divine “I” described itself as a being and further went on to display all the visuals that constitute human makeup, from zygote to corpse. Divine “I” further went on to give a detailed analysis of the all the aspects of Earth and life on Earth that it had been privy to, from stellar location to the breakdown of the nuclear family. After this exhaustive explanation of the marvels and intricacies of I’s point of origin, the invisible, yet well defined presence was asked by yet a greater presence, which I believed was the collective essence of the mountain of light, to clarify what I was trying to convey. The reply was shockingly simple:

            “ It’s mud thing “

The less than flattering term referred to everything put forth in my presentation: The miracle of birth, the institution or religion, ant colonies, hand-wash car washes, the civil war as well as the un-civil ones, a dozen long stemmed roses. All of this could have been reduced and summed up as “mud thing” (in lower case letters at that). Well apparently the ethereal door man was informed not to let me enter, I don’t think it had anything to do with me coming from mud thing as much as it just wasn’t my time, the dry cleaning for my new suit I guess wasn’t ready yet, come back on Tuesday.

Speaking of Tuesday, that was the day that “me” regained some sort of consciousness. Me awoke in a hospital bed to find myself entwined in all sorts of IVs. Low blood sugar and slight trauma was the Doctor’s assessment of the cause of medical condition, so let’s leave it at that.

I don’t mind how you get here, just get here it you can and don’t bother wiping the mud off your shoes - it’s all you.

End

© P.Ghee 2003