The Narrow Space Between the Norms
A reflection on the sensation of time during life's most extraordinary moments and a preview of things to come.
Welcome back, friends. In the silence between our kickoff and this writing, I’ve been itching to discuss an observation that will permeate much of this series - the suspension of time during times of great emotion.
Reflect on how time feels in our most amplified experiences of fear, excitement, thrill, happiness, and longing. Time seems to stand still in these moments, warped and addictive yet utterly disjointed. Our senses sharpen and the persistence of time lapses as the world takes on a different sound and view.
Time seemingly stands still when we experience life’s most monumentally joyous moments. It does the same in instances of desperation.
Experience an unbelievably lucky (divinely influenced?) avoidance of a horrific automobile accident.
Consume the blistering adrenaline of a skydive, a drag race, or running for your life.
Witness the birth of your child.
Survive a violent crime.
Fall from great heights.
See someone you love after a great period of separation.
Time stands still…
I am fascinated by the experience. I long for it in many instances. I am deathly afraid of it in others.
What do we do with this? We live with it. We live in it.
We live differently in the narrow bands of time between the norms, the routine, the ordinary, the daily living. These times are reserved for heightened senses, overwhelming textures, and unforgettable memories.
Together, we’ll go to this place. We can’t be there continuously but we can surely visit often. Every once in a while, it is good to be reminded of where else we could be, for better or for worse.
Let’s live vicariously through the characters, places, and objects of our imagination. After all, it is much safer to live in the narrow bands of extremes when a character bears the burden.
Together, we clamor for the better and pray to never see the worse.
Photo credit - Kasia Derwinska, Kasia. Suspended in Eternity. Photo. Source: Saatchi Art
You know my feelings about that last sentence