A Respite

I've been working and worrying so much that my vision is clouded with future fears and present states of being. So I shake my head and toss my worries aside! There. I can almost see something moving! A light. A crack—big enough for a thought of a finger to pick through the layers of dust that have formed a thick crust that crumbles with finger flicks.

Now both hands, and a burst of fresh air escapes into my hair. It smells like sunshine and happiness. I gotta seeeee what's through there—reach for it and touch it!

Pushing my head through, it appears that I am peeking out of the middle of a cliff! I look up and cannot make my way to the top. I look down, and it's a straight drop, and a looooong way down. And I think I can hear a river way down there. I have a lot of water rushing around my imagination. I'm drawn to it.

I pull my head back in and begin to kick through the thick of it—breaking off large chunks. I'm going to jump. A few more kicks. A few more. And that's it! I'm going to

J
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
U
M
M
M
M
M
M
m
m
m
m
m
p
!

Oh? I seem to have stopped falling and am just standing on the empty air. I do see a river below me. It's moving. But it's still a long way down, farther than I had imagined, so I

J
U
U
u
u
u
.
.
.

What? Now I'm going back up!? Hmmm. Maybe I should

F
A
A
A
A
A
A
A
A
A
A
a
a
a
a
a
a
a
l
l
.

There. I land in the water slowly—slipping into the rushing pulling at my feet, then legs, then I'm laying on my back and floooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooating downstream.

The cliffs above me move gently while I watch a tiny stream of sky float by. Lovely, just lovely. Floating, just floating. Listening, just listening—hearing only bubbling in my ears mixed with muffled, quiet heartbeats.

I'm in a state of concentrated imagination. A respite.