I’ve felt it these last few days. What is it about? I cannot fathom it. It takes hold. My joy, my pleasure, my lightness is over there – separate from me. I see it through glass. I must just live it. Live it through. Why don’t you take something? he asks. I could, I suppose but I am scared too. For all it’s dark at least I am feeling it. I want to come through to the other side – lighter, wiser, more knowing, steeped in the deeper knowing. I start my walk and it begins. Usually little things first. A fret about work, about my writing, about time and then it has taken over. My body bends with it. My shoulders curve, my back will not straighten. I cannot open, my breathing is constrained. And yet, I know joy. I have known joy. All is taken care of. I have enough to eat, enough to drink, clothes to wear, shelter and love. I have love. I am cherished, cared for, noticed and acknowledged. All is good. All is as it should be. Let it be. Let the darkness come, let it enfold and take me over. I will come through it. There will be lightness, soon. If only at the end.