The Coma
Some time ago, I went through a medical procedure requiring anesthesia. After some dosage, oblivion was reached. Later, somewhere in the middle of the procedure, I became conscious but had the strange feeling of dislocation.
Regardless of the “reality” of dislocation or its anesthetically-induced burst of imagination, it was a blissful experience which made me think of The Coma Alex Garland’s book, one that I recommend to anyone interested in dreams, OBE’s and NDE’s. Garland describes a character’s dramatic fall into a state of existence and nonexistence:
“ … I noticed that besides feeling nothing at the ends of my limbs, and seeing nothing, I could also hear nothing. Not the sound of my breathing, or the rustle of my clothes, or the sound of any other person or entity or machine or object that shared this space with me.
“So I tried to speak, and I made no sound.
“ … None of my movements were evidenced by any sensation whatsoever. I couldn’t feel the parting of my lips or the blinking of my eyes.
“Finally, I reached up to touch my face, and there simply wasn’t anything there. … I lost track of any understanding of what movements might be, and how the now nonexistent parts of my body might have previously related to one another. I lost track of any understanding of physicality at all.
“ I was conscious, and that’s all. Beyond my consciousness, there wasn’t anything else.
“ … I was on the verge of having the most terrifying thought in the world … “ (pp 148–149)
According to some Buddhists beliefs, such separation of consciousness would eventually lead to existence and nonexistence, a state of latency called Kū in some Japanese texts. I tend to think that the wandering of consciousness perhaps reflects what may happen upon death; on the other hand, as someone that falls asleep into oblivion most of the evening (as everyone does) and who, upon waking up, takes a few seconds (as also does everyone) to recollect those details of consciousness that make the waking self realize who “I” am, I also have to admit that total darkness could be it, as described in The Coma.
Regardless of the “reality” of dislocation or its anesthetically-induced burst of imagination, it was a blissful experience which made me think of The Coma Alex Garland’s book, one that I recommend to anyone interested in dreams, OBE’s and NDE’s. Garland describes a character’s dramatic fall into a state of existence and nonexistence:
“ … I noticed that besides feeling nothing at the ends of my limbs, and seeing nothing, I could also hear nothing. Not the sound of my breathing, or the rustle of my clothes, or the sound of any other person or entity or machine or object that shared this space with me.
“So I tried to speak, and I made no sound.
“ … None of my movements were evidenced by any sensation whatsoever. I couldn’t feel the parting of my lips or the blinking of my eyes.
“Finally, I reached up to touch my face, and there simply wasn’t anything there. … I lost track of any understanding of what movements might be, and how the now nonexistent parts of my body might have previously related to one another. I lost track of any understanding of physicality at all.
“ I was conscious, and that’s all. Beyond my consciousness, there wasn’t anything else.
“ … I was on the verge of having the most terrifying thought in the world … “ (pp 148–149)
According to some Buddhists beliefs, such separation of consciousness would eventually lead to existence and nonexistence, a state of latency called Kū in some Japanese texts. I tend to think that the wandering of consciousness perhaps reflects what may happen upon death; on the other hand, as someone that falls asleep into oblivion most of the evening (as everyone does) and who, upon waking up, takes a few seconds (as also does everyone) to recollect those details of consciousness that make the waking self realize who “I” am, I also have to admit that total darkness could be it, as described in The Coma.
posted by Eliseo at 4:24 PM
<< Home