An unusual aspect of firing an assault rifle is that you don’t hear the bang, even though the weapon is pressed to the side of your face. The sound you hear – as well as feel in the bones of your skull – is of the bolt and mechanism ejecting the spent cartridge. It’s over so quickly, that it’s more like a noise you remember hearing, rather than something you actually do hear, if that makes any kind of sense. The weird thing is that you can clearly hear someone else shooting from a few paces away, but you are strangely deaf to your own weapon. Yet another metaphor for life: sometimes you are too close to something to take it all in. You can get so caught up in the details as to miss the bigger picture.
And then there is the flip side – sometimes you are concentrating on the overview to the extent that you cannot appreciate the details. When you are far enough away to actually register the sound of the shot, it overwhelms your attention to the point that you completely miss the subliminal ‘clunk-ping’ that immediately follows the squeezing of the trigger.
So what the hell am I talking about? Something about achieving a balance, maybe? Something about how keeping your eye on the final goal doesn’t necessarily prevent the crocodile from biting your backside? I wish I knew.