He nods. "Like a human man trying to wrestle such a wave?" he asks. "Did you feel you had anything to..." he turns a palm ceilingward, slowly, looking for a word, "to send out at it, to help you, or did you only have your everyday hands? If you did, well, any image you had for it, any sense you had, of what you were doing, or what you were being, or what was coming from you, that's what I'd like you to tell me."