The Place In Between
The struggle to push through the thin meniscus that separates the differences in consciousness is a mysterious purgatory in which I don’t have a lot of sensory input, but nor do I care about that loss either.
During the push to wake myself up in the morning I may be at all sorts of levels of awareness, but not necessarily awake. This state of apparent (or false) consciousness is the closest thing I can equate to where I’m located when I receive a blow to front or back of my head.
I would say, in a totally unscientific way, that it must be like a computer system coming on line. Not every system is on at the same time – multiple services come on line in a consecutive fashion, often dictated by importance or the role of the system in it’s larger environment. By extension the body possibly brings up functions in a similar fashion. In my case vision and hearing come up last.
I’m drawing these similarities because I notice that seasoned fighters (at least in MMA matches) appeared to have that knock on the head and still function. It’s led me to spend some time thinking about the few minutes I’ve spent in that mode. It must be that these fighters are so well trained that they continue to function without sight or sound. At a preliminary glance that actually seems to be the case.
Unfortunately for me, my training doesn’t embrace this at all (probably best considering it might come with a concussion) so my immediate response is to stand dumbly as my hands slowly lower. I can’t help but wonder why I don’t fall down. Is it innate balance? I doubt it because I’m one the easiest guys to throw in class. Or is it that the balance system is still on line when hearing and vision are no longer?
Class last week was filled with innovative throws and one that took me over the leg of Dave didn’t allow me to get a good slap in ended up ringing my bell a bit and took me back to the place in between.