Read The Return (Enigma of Modern Science & Philosophy) Page 16
The days and nights passed without notice. I scribbled away furiously, losing myself to my thoughts. My personal life had disappeared. Food went unnoticed. I took no delight in my surroundings. Life was draining from me. I needed to get out.
I looked in the small mirror over the bathroom sink. The stubble face was not like my own. It was tired and bedraggled. The eyes had no twinkle. I shaved away the stubble to reveal the white skin underneath. I shuddered to think I had let my person go to such an extent. I took my first shower in days. The water, flowing in small rivulets from the old rusted showerhead, was like a baptism. It washed away the pain of the last few days. The mental effort had left me defeated.
It was only when I went out into the dying light that the idea of time and the need to know it returned. It was nearly twilight. The sky over the sea was between red and violet. The sea was peacefully calm. I inhaled the damp air. It was great to be alive again.
I made my way to the village and bought as much food as I could carry. I avoided contact with the eyes that stared in curiosity. They knew I was on the island but had no idea of what I was actually doing there. I didn’t want to have to explain as I wasn’t sure myself. I still needed seclusion and space to conduct my thinking. The shopkeeper’s eyes had a knowing look as she handed over the bottle of whiskey. I felt guilty tucking it out of sight into the plastic bag. I mumbled a brief thanks and left quickly.
It was almost dark when I returned to the cottage. The last light glimmered faintly over the sea. I took out a chair and sat with a glass of whiskey staring at the vista. Calmness descended. I was alone again for as long as I wanted. The air was warmly still and gray shadows dressed the landscape. The moon appeared over the hillside and shone brightly on the still water. There was no sound but the distant ripple of waves on shingle. I took a sip of the whiskey and let it mingle in my mouth before swallowing it satisfyingly.
I was happy for a moment. This moment had allowed all my worries and concerns to disappear. I was transfixed in the here and now and it was relaxing. I felt my body soften as I sat back languorously in the chair. If I had a divan I would have lain out and fallen asleep. I was drifting in the aura of peace, mildly sedated by the alcohol. I had neither plan nor desires. My mind while not on strike was taking a break. It refused to deliberate on my being. It accepted that I was simply part of this coherent scene with no confusions or distortions to violate the peace. I closed my eyes and let the world disappear.
I was conscious again. The pain in my head was intense. It was a pressure trying to break forth through my eyes. I opened them and the daylight through the cottage window was dazzling and frightful. The throbbing became more intense and I felt a wave of nausea well up inside. My stomach muscles seemed to clinch internally and I struggled to breathe. I was lying fully clothed on the still-made bed. The air in the room had that tepid odor of sweat and exhaled alcoholic breath. I struggled to open the window. The fresh air helped but the throbbing was persistent. I made my way to the bathroom. The Paracetamol would take time to have effect. I gulped down as much water as I could force myself to.
On the kitchen table was the half-empty bottle of whiskey. At least I hadn’t finished the whole bottle. I put it away scornfully. I opened all the doors and windows and let the air flow through the space. After a cold shower I began to feel a bit better or perhaps it was the pills kicking in. I was feeling well enough to put on a big fry-up for breakfast. The stodgy food seemed to do the trick because as I wandered about the garden after breakfast my mood lightened and the pains eased.
I was angry with myself for allowing such excessive indulgence but even more so for having to endure the consequences. Life continually taught me that lesson and yet I continued to repeat my mistakes. The value of the present pleasure far outweighs the future pain. We try to ignore pain but at our peril. It is the messenger of danger. The body only knows what is harmful by the reaction of nerves that create the conscious feeling of pain. The brain is wired for both pleasure and pain. They are the feedback mechanisms that keep the organism safe in its habitat or environment.