That Crushing Feeling.
October 28, 2007
Imagine.
You’re standing on a really really really high bridge. (You’re not scared of heights are you?)
A little way off you see one of your friends. (For the purpose of this exercise, lets say, someone you’ve known for a few years, and have come to love.)
He’s walking towards you, oblivious to the world, listening to music and just wandering on…
But behind him, you see an enormous metal ball. It would weigh a good few hundred tonnes. It’s so big that it would take a week of continuous walking to get out of its way. Which is ironic, because it is slowly rolling towards him, picking up speed. You, because of your vantage spot, can see that even if he could run faster than 36km an hour, (which, as you and I know, is the Guinness world record,) he would never get out of the way of the ball. There is no way he can get to safety. Nowhere to hide or escape to.
You can see the ball rolling towards him. You can tell that there is less than a day before it reaches him.
One day.
There is nothing you can do to save him, because you are trapped on the bridge, forced to watch.
You have a choice.
You can call out to him. He will turn, see the ball, and have a whole day to live through, with the knowledge that in less than twenty-four hours, he will be, literally, crushed.
Or you can stand on your safe bridge and helplessly watch.
Your safe haven will be rocked by the impact, but you will be safe, no matter what you choose.
Do you let him enjoy his final day in peaceful oblivion, happy and carefree?
Or make him endure the agony of knowing that he is going to die, but can do nothing to save himself, nothing but watch his fate roll closer… closer…
How do you make a decision like that?
You do nothing. You wait until it is over. And only then are you able to leave your safe place, and cradle the crushed body. And cry for them.
