Trapped: release the subconscious from suffering

On Sunday I woke in the night from a disturbed sleep. I had been hovering in the in-between state for a while – that space between dreams and being awake, conscious that if I just opened my eyes, the thoughts that were haunting me, would end. We’d heard the news, of shameless attacks on humanity in London the night before, but we didn’t have all the details, mostly b/c the intelligence that goes into finding the culprits were looking to solve whodunit. But also, in this house, I turn the radio down when the news comes on.

My anxiety over world events is one thing, but I’m cautious of what my four year old will hear and digest and ruminate on. All in due time, I think. I was/do/attempt to hold a space for the spirit of childhood. To create gardens and tell stories and build towers while counting to 50 or higher, to learn in a warm (and by that I mean humbled, safe, not sheltered) space as much as possible. We see it all, he’ll know it all to well, soon enough. In due time.