I feel a great empathy for the poor sailors who found themselves stranded near the equator, stuck in the doldrums. This may not be a well-informed empathy, but I feel it. Whenever the wind fails and I have to survive in dead calm, I am not quite certain that I will be successful.
Part of this is strictly physiological. The human body sweats. We need enough air movement to dry our skin off.
As far as myself, I think there is something more besides. In the dead calm I feel as though I am not fully connected with Life, as if through touch the air I can touch actual reality and without that breath of air I am cut off.
Perhaps not. But in my own mind, at least, there is the need for a continual renewal of contact with what is. The moving air touches my body and reminds me of things that dead air forgets.