Spiritual Claustrophobia

I've always enjoyed the country. I grew up in a fairly small town in South Carolina that had three stoplights within the city limits. My grandparents owned 100 acres of farmland in Middle Tennessee with a few cattle. We used to visit there every summer. I loved riding the tractor, walking up and down the hills. Open spaces give my mind room to think and my soul room to breathe.

I remember a time when I was very young, maybe 5 or 6 when I was playing in the front room of my childhood home. We had a couple of formal sitting chairs that were just high enough off the floor for a young boy to crawl under. Up until that age, I could fit under them easily, but this one time, I got stuck. I was wedged between the floor and the chair with my head and upper body directly beneath the chair and my legs sticking out. I remember feeling trapped, and I got very nervous. I began to panic and wriggled and squirmed until my head was finally free and I squeezed my way out. I never crawled under any furniture after that. Since then, I've been just slightly claustrophobic.