Disturbed ponderings.
I was reading http://lilannan.livejournal.com/, more specifically her latest entry, and immediately caught upon the notion of feeling small and vunerable. I'm not the tallest of men, far from it, but being typical of short men I have ever and always felt myself to be of profound strength and capability even if the relative nature of my strength is in extreme doubt (ok, so I could be overpowered by a cheerleader). Really it has only been in very recent years that I've realized that I am neither bulletproof or able to leap tall buildings, and my health is probably better for it.
Still, my threshold for pain being of a remarkable nature given my choice of recreation and my history of less than graceful nature excursions, I have always been able to offer myself as a sound-mind and meatshield, either or given the particular threat at hand, to my friends. In caves or treks I can pass over/through the more daunting tasks before them and then help them through. In addition to the inherant nobility in such things, the appreciation of those friends is more than enough to mend any such wounds that might be incurred.
The last time I went caving was a simple enough matter in the general sense. We went, had fun, discovered our car had been broken in to, but hey we ended up laughing about that. On a more thorough examination of my memory I do recall something that had me feeling trapped and helpless, which is as close to small and vunerable as I c an get.
There was a passage that for five feet was no larger than the 17in lcd screen I am typing this on. It was horizontal for the length of it, with a grade on one side so that you were tilted to one side while you wiggled along. This encounter, dubbed the "keyhole", is at the very entrance of the cave. I was the first in, and though the tightness of it bothered me some, clean air and fresh limbs gave me enough confidence to not freak out too much. Two hours later this was not the case, and although I was the first one through and could pull friends through the toughest part, I was the last one out without anyone pushing me forward.
So I was tired, I was weak, and I had to do this with both my arms above my head, my helmet off, and almost no light. About the point where the whole of my body was in the narrowest part, I freaked out. Not in a loud way, in cave it starts with trying to move a limb a way it will not move, trying to kick or bend your knee despite the very hard rock that will not allow you to do so. Your diaphram has significant pressure on it just from the rock beneath you, but the futile straining with limbs makes the air situation worse.
In some sense, it's a little like drowning, except not so deadly, but just if not more scary due to the confinement. From a rational perspective, in this particular situation, the worse that could have happened was that I would have passed out. Rescuers could have lashed my wrists and dragged my unconcious ass the four feet to safety, but that isn't really something in the back of your mind. You think you're going to die. Had I been trying this alone, then I might have.
So I suppose I should reveal what saved me, after all if I don't then this post has been one enormous travesty of a tale. Well it was my best friend. Nothing physically he did or could have done mind you, but simply him cursing my name and decidedly slow progression. Even without breath I seemed to be able to curse back, mostly about how he was a worthless excuse for cave creature etc, and my sheer desire to see him long enough to throw mud in his face was enough to get hands on the appropriate rocks to pull (by fingers and wrist action) and hump/slither my way out.
I am unaware if any of that will go far in helping someone feel better about being small or vunerable (really we all are small and vunerable), but perhaps something in there will provide a handhold of sorts.
Still, my threshold for pain being of a remarkable nature given my choice of recreation and my history of less than graceful nature excursions, I have always been able to offer myself as a sound-mind and meatshield, either or given the particular threat at hand, to my friends. In caves or treks I can pass over/through the more daunting tasks before them and then help them through. In addition to the inherant nobility in such things, the appreciation of those friends is more than enough to mend any such wounds that might be incurred.
The last time I went caving was a simple enough matter in the general sense. We went, had fun, discovered our car had been broken in to, but hey we ended up laughing about that. On a more thorough examination of my memory I do recall something that had me feeling trapped and helpless, which is as close to small and vunerable as I c an get.
There was a passage that for five feet was no larger than the 17in lcd screen I am typing this on. It was horizontal for the length of it, with a grade on one side so that you were tilted to one side while you wiggled along. This encounter, dubbed the "keyhole", is at the very entrance of the cave. I was the first in, and though the tightness of it bothered me some, clean air and fresh limbs gave me enough confidence to not freak out too much. Two hours later this was not the case, and although I was the first one through and could pull friends through the toughest part, I was the last one out without anyone pushing me forward.
So I was tired, I was weak, and I had to do this with both my arms above my head, my helmet off, and almost no light. About the point where the whole of my body was in the narrowest part, I freaked out. Not in a loud way, in cave it starts with trying to move a limb a way it will not move, trying to kick or bend your knee despite the very hard rock that will not allow you to do so. Your diaphram has significant pressure on it just from the rock beneath you, but the futile straining with limbs makes the air situation worse.
In some sense, it's a little like drowning, except not so deadly, but just if not more scary due to the confinement. From a rational perspective, in this particular situation, the worse that could have happened was that I would have passed out. Rescuers could have lashed my wrists and dragged my unconcious ass the four feet to safety, but that isn't really something in the back of your mind. You think you're going to die. Had I been trying this alone, then I might have.
So I suppose I should reveal what saved me, after all if I don't then this post has been one enormous travesty of a tale. Well it was my best friend. Nothing physically he did or could have done mind you, but simply him cursing my name and decidedly slow progression. Even without breath I seemed to be able to curse back, mostly about how he was a worthless excuse for cave creature etc, and my sheer desire to see him long enough to throw mud in his face was enough to get hands on the appropriate rocks to pull (by fingers and wrist action) and hump/slither my way out.
I am unaware if any of that will go far in helping someone feel better about being small or vunerable (really we all are small and vunerable), but perhaps something in there will provide a handhold of sorts.