Visitors

Yesterday I received a visit from depression. She slowed down time, made my books boring and my mood thick. My world became twice removed.


By suppertime I'm chopping vegetables and crying. I cry about the banality of having to prepare and eat supper and about the difficulties of communicating with Florian and life. The space around us dissolves meaning until it becomes ambiguous and dull.


After a while I give up searching for the moment in which reality took flight. Past experiences have become as exciting as sitcom re-runs.


I step outside to do qigong under the trees. I breathe deeply while raising my arms. Looking up between my fingers I deepen my breath. A glimpse of a cloud and a dancing leave stirs a forgotten memory.


I breathe out while bending down. My mind wonders back into the mist. I start walking away. I call myself back. I reach up and breathe in.


The wind remembers lightness. I close my eyes and allow the depression to settle into my body. To just be. My heart beats to a forgotten rhythm. I breathe in and blindly reach for a wish to be a small leave dancing against a blue sky and a white cloud. I breathe out the heaviness and the wish.


Once inside I curl up on my bed. Inside my heart a small warrior awakens. She wears a bright pink jersey covered in blue and orange flowers. She gently pushes against the grey static surrounding us. Sometimes her steps are as faint as a breeze on a sand dune. Sometimes she jumps of cliffs while singing to the unknown.


Today the world is back in colour. On my study wall I notice shadows dancing in a golden square. I step into a green field laughing at three dogs trying to fly after a guinea fowl.