It floats towards the mind like a silken thread spun by a spider. Try to catch the thread of the story, the idea, the poem before it breaks into nothing. Be gentle as you weave it into the pattern that suits this moment, this image, this truth, this tale. Gradually the beauty takes form. Images that delight, images that frighten, images that turn to words that turn to images again in another mind. The craft of the storyteller, the dreamer.

I am pleased to say that I have had a string of days where the general trend is upward. This positive trend is a welcome change from the recent past. I have been focusing a lot of effort each day on mindfulness, meditation and cognitive behaviour therapy. The medicine still makes me sleepy, but my thoughts and black dog seem to be under control.

I have also taken refuge in nature, words and images and the world of storytelling and poetry. It is such a wondrous place. I have started searching for other dreamers and following them for inspiration and a sense of beauty in their words, images and experiences.

Now I am contemplating rejoining the world of reality, work and facing my fear of leaving the house on a regular basis. Frankly it scares me. The potential for failure and judgement by others exists and is magnified in my mind. I cannot hide forever (though I do love the idea of retreating into my world of words as often as I can).

I must be brave and try to trust people again and keep training my black dog not to bite.


Featured image freely available from pixabay: