The Observer
The action took a dramatic shift as I heard an enormous crash right in front of me. Dazed and bewildered, I stood there thinking about what to do next. It felt as if my very soul was being torn away from my body—not for anything that I had ever done, but because I had skipped an important step in the process.
I was left in shatters, not knowing if I would ever be able to recover from this madness. Scarcely a second before impact, a shiver ran down my body, the way that ice travelled through my bloodstream. My body convulsed, the shock in my body stronger than an earthquake. I was totally devastated, and the only words that I could mutter were, “What am I going to say?”
As I wrestled with my emotions, the first witnesses began delivering me their unsolicited words of encouragement. Some offered the positive aspect of the experience occurring in an enclosed environment, while others instructed me to man up and just forget it. Although pretending to be unruffled at the time, internally I was hollowed out and befuddled. How was I ever going to overcome my fears? The thought of missing my next appointment was like a pair of handcuffs, pinning me in place.
When I was about to call my teacher to inform him that I was not psychologically ready for the lesson, his call came through to remind me that he had been waiting. Relying on my determination, I wore a fig leaf of fear and confusion, and despite the whirlwind making rounds in my brain because of what had occurred the previous evening, I decided to attend the lesson. It was not simple, but I pushed on anyway.
