And then I "went" to one of these places (in my subconscious state, mind you) and it caused what I sensed as such an intense feeling of elation that it was too much, too intense, and not pleasurable -- so disturbingly so that it was enough to wake me up!
What is there about my mind that it allows me to experience a sense of well-being so intense that it was excruciating?
I wonder if our wiring maps our feelings in a continuous loop.
I once looked out from a 90 passenger tour boat scooting across the Caribbean where turquoise sun and flying fish are no surprise. My smile was nearly big enough to shade my eyes, impossible but not at all unlikely. When my brain arrived at Aphrodite overload, I realized later, I skulked away to our thrifty cabin by the engine room to ground myself in words on paper as paradise sped by.
Words on paper through the years have told me stories of tortured prisoners who reach a certain painless state beyond the agony. A woman told me once of running out her front door to a bleeding child who'd been hit by a truck. While she soothed and whispered him from this life to the next, he said it didn't hurt -- she saw a beautiful place reflected in his face.
I've written here before about the symphony conductor who suffered brain injury. Music that once charmed him was excruciating to his altered wiring.
Controlled euphoria, now there's a buzzword for the marketeers. Package a sound, a look, a taste, a feel, a scent that takes consumers to the crest of the wave but holds them back from Hades. Extravaganza makers accept the challenge. Arena rock shows take aim at the wonder bird, kick up the decibels, lay on the spectacle, song after song. Even after all that, the kids are OK, euphoria aroused and contained.
If you think elation's worth the gamble, race your wheels along the coast road, windows down, radio up. Belt the songs into fourth gear. The world is round, the ocean's wide, and even fish can fly.
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