I found myself holding my breath in anticipation, fearful for your safety and hoping you would "make it" while at the same time knowing you did because you were the writer of the story. That's suspension of disbelief in action. I had a time in a slow-motion moment once. I was at a bookstore with my kiddos, one was in a stroller and the other 5 years old, I was looking at books on the shelf when I happened to turn my head and saw my oldest's legs sticking out from underneath a beanbag in the reading area. Another child had jumped on top of my kid and was smothering them with another bean bag. I remember running across the room and throwing the kid, smothering my child, off of the bean bag like a rag doll. I removed the giant bean bag to see my 5-year-old's face, white with terror. All of that happened in slow motion without sound, and then when I took the beanbag off, time sped up again and the sound came back on.
Oh, wow. What a save, Doreen. And what a relief for you and your child! Thank you for reading “Unseen Hand” and for sharing what must have been (after your slow-motion rescue) a terrifying event. It knots my stomach just thinking about it.
What a truly gripping story. I’m glad Cathy sent me your way.
I have experienced this slowing down of time, all three times in car accidents. I have no idea what my theory is on what causes them. But I think the thing that sort of intrigues or maybe surprises me most is the lack of emotion. It was, instead, pure and total presence with what is. talk about whole new meaning to the phrase be here now.
Thank you, Holly. Yes, the absence of emotion was memorable, and in hindsight, seemed key to survival. I appreciate you sharing your experience of "pure and total presence with what is." So glad we've connected, and I look forward to continuing our conversation.
this was such a gripping story - as i read it i felt myself there. beautiful. and i'm so intrigued by this idea of time slowing down. i remember my senior year of college - having returned from a year away including a summer at an ashram in bali where time moved at a glacial speed compared to our american fast - the whole year moved more slowly. for whatever reason i was dropped deeply into the present. whatever i was working on was the only thing i was working on. i could sense someone else's presence when i was with them. and moments would just freeze. like a photograph. i've never experienced anything quite like that since but wow... to know it is always possible is truly amazing.
I've heard it said that Bali is the heart of the earth. Having been there for ten days in 2017, I have a sense of what you mean. But those frozen moments? Wow. What an extraordinary experience you've shared! Thanks for reading my latest piece, daphne, and for taking time to comment. I appreciate you.
thank you. i was there in 1992. i haven't been back. it's possible, and probable, that life moves faster there now. but i don't imagine it's anywhere near as fast as here (for me that's the states). it's so strange how the mind can just shift like that. for you it was life-saving. not quite so for me but still awe inspiring. just more evidence that there is so much about being human we just don't know. you are welcome robin. thank you.
Fascinating story, Robin. Your description of the experience pulled me right into it. Beautiful writing. It reminded me of when I narrowly escaped being hit by a car at age 9. I'm not sure it was exactly the same kind of experience. I remember running, I remember being aware of screeching tires. I remember knowing that if I stopped I would die. I remember a sensation of flying across the road.
Cathy, what an experience. To know you were running for your life at nine. That sensation of flying! Thank you for sharing your memory here. I'm glad you enjoyed my story, and I appreciate you sharing it, too.
Yes! I was driving my family’s 4WD down a steep decline on a dirt road in Gippsland, Victoria 2006 when I saw and felt losing control of the vehicle… aware of the tyres slipping on the rocky gravel, removing my grip from the steering wheel in preparation to fully let go to rolling it, I felt the swaying slow motion only to re-right the vehicle before my hands reconnected with the steering wheel and the vehicle slowed to a stop. Then reality bit as my body moved through the shock.
Your experience was a thrill to read, Robyn… exceptional writing ✍🏻 Thank you for sharing.
Wow! Leanda, I love your story of releasing the wheel, and then experiencing that slow-motion swaying and the course correction. How mysterious and amazing. I’m glad you enjoyed this piece, and that it conjured such a wondrous memory. Thanks for taking time to share!
✨ This completely pulled me in: not just because of the intensity of the moment, but because of how beautifully you captured that feeling of expanded time, almost stepping outside physical reality. That calm in chaos, that unwavering guidance through danger, that fleeting moment when the boundary between us and the world dissolves… You wrote it with such precision and depth that I got chills reading it. I love how you leave room for mystery... brain, instinct, higher intelligence… maybe all at once? And maybe, in those moments, we truly see how capable we are, how connected everything is, and how time isn’t as rigid as we believe. A stunning, fascinating piece. ⏳💫
I feel this post viscerally. The quote about the angel and the unseen hand is how I view the friendly monster in my post about the hermit and the hierophant. It may be an angel or an ancestral shroud or just an imaginary friend (or all of the above.) Somebody watching over us and steering us where we need to go.
I love this story, Robin. It’s frightening and suspenseful but safe because we know how it ends. But still scary. So fascinating what you said about the boundaries coming down in that moment, and thinking 100x faster. It reminded me of stories people tell about being out of body and their life flashing in a matter of seconds. We know spirits experience senses and thoughts so much more quickly than we do, it’s almost like you stepped into the spiritual plane. A short, rapid, critical bend of liminality. It makes me want to explore time in places of hauntings, something less extreme but we do hear about losing time in places identified as “portals.” I think now I might be lost in the labyrinth or maybe a rabbit hole. 😄
I just love this post!! I know for you it might be heavier or traumatizing so I apologize for geeking out on your near death experience. But you definitely gave me something to think about.
I love your thoughts on this, Lyns. Thanks for being so generous in your response by drawing parallels and weaving details from your own experiences and studies. It was a liminal moment, for sure. At one point, right after I began writing this, I felt raw and sad imagining what might have been, were it not for those seconds of hyperclarity and flow. Yet I knew I wanted to share this story. I don’t feel traumatized, and I hope no one does in reading it. My intention in sharing moments of wonder is that they point us beyond ourselves, to greater mystery and hope. The stories readers share in the comments also remind us that we are not alone.
I’ll never forget it … ever. It was 15 or so years ago. My daughter, Molly, and I standing holding our skateboards at the top of the most innocent, or so it seemed, of hills. Should we? Shouldn’t we? Yes, let’s do it.
Mistake! I was soon speeding down the hill, but, being a rank novice, had no idea how to stop myself. The wheels were wobbling/shimmying. I knew with certainty that I had to either stay calm and in control or fall and suffer serious injury. It was, indeed, only after what felt like an eternity that I managed to reach the bottom safely, as did Molly.
Thanks for sharing, Hugh. What a ride! I’m amazed that you attempted it. And once you got rolling, thank goodness you had clarity and didn’t fall. As you were moving, was fear missing? Did you find yourself in a flow state? Curious.
Years ago I was walking down Yonge St., crossing an intersection with a quiet side street, when I suddenly found myself stumbling onto the opposite curb, gasping for breath. Only then did I "see," like a slow motion film playing in my head, the events of the previous few seconds: a truck turning left off Yonge and speeding towards me (I had right of way!), and me running to get out of the way. I had acted with no conscious awareness, and saw what happened after the fact. Very strange!
Extraordinary, Julie. How fascinating that you were able to react immediately, yet your conscious perception was delayed. Thanks for sharing your experience of slow motion. I'm so glad you weren't hurt! ❤️
I found myself holding my breath in anticipation, fearful for your safety and hoping you would "make it" while at the same time knowing you did because you were the writer of the story. That's suspension of disbelief in action. I had a time in a slow-motion moment once. I was at a bookstore with my kiddos, one was in a stroller and the other 5 years old, I was looking at books on the shelf when I happened to turn my head and saw my oldest's legs sticking out from underneath a beanbag in the reading area. Another child had jumped on top of my kid and was smothering them with another bean bag. I remember running across the room and throwing the kid, smothering my child, off of the bean bag like a rag doll. I removed the giant bean bag to see my 5-year-old's face, white with terror. All of that happened in slow motion without sound, and then when I took the beanbag off, time sped up again and the sound came back on.
Oh, wow. What a save, Doreen. And what a relief for you and your child! Thank you for reading “Unseen Hand” and for sharing what must have been (after your slow-motion rescue) a terrifying event. It knots my stomach just thinking about it.
What a truly gripping story. I’m glad Cathy sent me your way.
I have experienced this slowing down of time, all three times in car accidents. I have no idea what my theory is on what causes them. But I think the thing that sort of intrigues or maybe surprises me most is the lack of emotion. It was, instead, pure and total presence with what is. talk about whole new meaning to the phrase be here now.
Thank you for sharing your story!
Thank you, Holly. Yes, the absence of emotion was memorable, and in hindsight, seemed key to survival. I appreciate you sharing your experience of "pure and total presence with what is." So glad we've connected, and I look forward to continuing our conversation.
this was such a gripping story - as i read it i felt myself there. beautiful. and i'm so intrigued by this idea of time slowing down. i remember my senior year of college - having returned from a year away including a summer at an ashram in bali where time moved at a glacial speed compared to our american fast - the whole year moved more slowly. for whatever reason i was dropped deeply into the present. whatever i was working on was the only thing i was working on. i could sense someone else's presence when i was with them. and moments would just freeze. like a photograph. i've never experienced anything quite like that since but wow... to know it is always possible is truly amazing.
I've heard it said that Bali is the heart of the earth. Having been there for ten days in 2017, I have a sense of what you mean. But those frozen moments? Wow. What an extraordinary experience you've shared! Thanks for reading my latest piece, daphne, and for taking time to comment. I appreciate you.
thank you. i was there in 1992. i haven't been back. it's possible, and probable, that life moves faster there now. but i don't imagine it's anywhere near as fast as here (for me that's the states). it's so strange how the mind can just shift like that. for you it was life-saving. not quite so for me but still awe inspiring. just more evidence that there is so much about being human we just don't know. you are welcome robin. thank you.
So glad we’re connected, daphne.
I loved this Robin, I felt I was on the bike, suspended in a time bubble with you 😅
Thank you, Maria!
Fascinating story, Robin. Your description of the experience pulled me right into it. Beautiful writing. It reminded me of when I narrowly escaped being hit by a car at age 9. I'm not sure it was exactly the same kind of experience. I remember running, I remember being aware of screeching tires. I remember knowing that if I stopped I would die. I remember a sensation of flying across the road.
Cathy, what an experience. To know you were running for your life at nine. That sensation of flying! Thank you for sharing your memory here. I'm glad you enjoyed my story, and I appreciate you sharing it, too.
This is an excellent article. I love it all. While reading it I thought..:She was surrounded by assistants. Brava Robin.
Thank you, Maggie. That means so much. ✨
Yes! I was driving my family’s 4WD down a steep decline on a dirt road in Gippsland, Victoria 2006 when I saw and felt losing control of the vehicle… aware of the tyres slipping on the rocky gravel, removing my grip from the steering wheel in preparation to fully let go to rolling it, I felt the swaying slow motion only to re-right the vehicle before my hands reconnected with the steering wheel and the vehicle slowed to a stop. Then reality bit as my body moved through the shock.
Your experience was a thrill to read, Robyn… exceptional writing ✍🏻 Thank you for sharing.
Wow! Leanda, I love your story of releasing the wheel, and then experiencing that slow-motion swaying and the course correction. How mysterious and amazing. I’m glad you enjoyed this piece, and that it conjured such a wondrous memory. Thanks for taking time to share!
✨ This completely pulled me in: not just because of the intensity of the moment, but because of how beautifully you captured that feeling of expanded time, almost stepping outside physical reality. That calm in chaos, that unwavering guidance through danger, that fleeting moment when the boundary between us and the world dissolves… You wrote it with such precision and depth that I got chills reading it. I love how you leave room for mystery... brain, instinct, higher intelligence… maybe all at once? And maybe, in those moments, we truly see how capable we are, how connected everything is, and how time isn’t as rigid as we believe. A stunning, fascinating piece. ⏳💫
Thank you, Dea! 🙏
Saving to read when I have a moment, Robin. Love that you've been parsing time--right up my alley!
I thought of you while I was writing this one, Robin!
Thank you!
I feel this post viscerally. The quote about the angel and the unseen hand is how I view the friendly monster in my post about the hermit and the hierophant. It may be an angel or an ancestral shroud or just an imaginary friend (or all of the above.) Somebody watching over us and steering us where we need to go.
I love this story, Robin. It’s frightening and suspenseful but safe because we know how it ends. But still scary. So fascinating what you said about the boundaries coming down in that moment, and thinking 100x faster. It reminded me of stories people tell about being out of body and their life flashing in a matter of seconds. We know spirits experience senses and thoughts so much more quickly than we do, it’s almost like you stepped into the spiritual plane. A short, rapid, critical bend of liminality. It makes me want to explore time in places of hauntings, something less extreme but we do hear about losing time in places identified as “portals.” I think now I might be lost in the labyrinth or maybe a rabbit hole. 😄
I just love this post!! I know for you it might be heavier or traumatizing so I apologize for geeking out on your near death experience. But you definitely gave me something to think about.
I love your thoughts on this, Lyns. Thanks for being so generous in your response by drawing parallels and weaving details from your own experiences and studies. It was a liminal moment, for sure. At one point, right after I began writing this, I felt raw and sad imagining what might have been, were it not for those seconds of hyperclarity and flow. Yet I knew I wanted to share this story. I don’t feel traumatized, and I hope no one does in reading it. My intention in sharing moments of wonder is that they point us beyond ourselves, to greater mystery and hope. The stories readers share in the comments also remind us that we are not alone.
I’ll never forget it … ever. It was 15 or so years ago. My daughter, Molly, and I standing holding our skateboards at the top of the most innocent, or so it seemed, of hills. Should we? Shouldn’t we? Yes, let’s do it.
Mistake! I was soon speeding down the hill, but, being a rank novice, had no idea how to stop myself. The wheels were wobbling/shimmying. I knew with certainty that I had to either stay calm and in control or fall and suffer serious injury. It was, indeed, only after what felt like an eternity that I managed to reach the bottom safely, as did Molly.
Thanks for sharing, Hugh. What a ride! I’m amazed that you attempted it. And once you got rolling, thank goodness you had clarity and didn’t fall. As you were moving, was fear missing? Did you find yourself in a flow state? Curious.
Years ago I was walking down Yonge St., crossing an intersection with a quiet side street, when I suddenly found myself stumbling onto the opposite curb, gasping for breath. Only then did I "see," like a slow motion film playing in my head, the events of the previous few seconds: a truck turning left off Yonge and speeding towards me (I had right of way!), and me running to get out of the way. I had acted with no conscious awareness, and saw what happened after the fact. Very strange!
Extraordinary, Julie. How fascinating that you were able to react immediately, yet your conscious perception was delayed. Thanks for sharing your experience of slow motion. I'm so glad you weren't hurt! ❤️