Sometimes when I get to roll with Professor, the experience is nothing short of mind blowing.  He does what he does, slowly, methodically, relaxed, laughing.  But the positions are exotic to my white belt student mind.  Position is a terribly inadequate word, implying that what he does is understandable in a quantifiable, component set of static placements.  No, the movements are in a realm of movement I don't think in yet.  When he rolls like this I am a grain of sand with an ocean floating around me.  When he moves on to another student I sit there on the mat, perfectly uninjured, but my mind has been blown.  I am waking up from a dream world: I was there, participating, but deep down completely helpless.  What the heck just happened to me?