It's night. It's dark. You lie in bed; suddenly awake. What woke you? A dream? The cold? A noise? Then you hear it – an intruder downstairs. Your hackles rise, your heart races, your muscles tense with sudden hyperventilation. The room, what you see of it, starts to throb and twist as your perceptions, heightened by adrenaline, play tricks on the mind. You get up silently, strangely fleet, obeying a different voice to the one you're accustomed to. You creep to the door, instinctively on tiptoes, and open it with a charged care that you haven't given anything for ages. You listen, listen, listen, probing the darkness with your listening, descending the stairs with your listening, coming more and more alive with your listening. Then, suddenly, you hear it again, bang bang bang, and you sink back into self as you realize it's just the noisy fridge banging against the wall as it comes to life. What a relief! You slink back to bed, marveling at the tricks a mind can play. As you lie awake, reviewing the event and wondering will sleep return, you realize that you've just had a spiritual experience.