Sometimes you don't even notice it till it's upon you. Or part of you notices it, other parts are numb to it or in denial. The old tapes, the old demons, the old patterns. They jump on the back of something opportunistic and before you know it they've rushed at you and stolen your breath, their teeth bared, kid's nightmare teeth, stealing your thunder. If you didn't know any better you'd stay right there in their jaws, believing the landscape.
The still small voice that is in the silence, that is in the midst of all music, that golden thread, you can't see it at these times. All you can hear is the deafening roar of the old school, the feelings-without-words, the numbness, the powerlessness that is life-as-you-knew-it.
It could almost fool you that it's real.
There's nothing to it but to go through it. You resist this with every ounce of you, even though you know there is no other way. There is no god coming to take it away; the only way is right through the centre of it.
It would never make a Hollywood movie. Or a Pente sermon.
But out the other side, if you can tear your eyes away from the giant jaws, there is peace out that other side. There is right action and peace and space. You know it. You've been there before.
All it takes is mindfulness and courage.
The more you sit in the middle of your own worst nightmares, the more you begin to understand the oneness of everything, the paper tigerness of your worst fears, the freedom that lies out the other side. A chink, a crack to walk through, out through the other side.
Part of you doesn't even believe it's going to happen. Part of you knows that of course it will.
Very little is linear round here :)