The image of covering the eyes stayed with me. To explore it not with .. over abundance of analysis but with the sky in mind:

I was so terrified of losing my mother (as she expressed suicide thinking histrionically), that I instinctively closed my 👀 and 👂s and all connections to the outside of me, and withdrew inward so much that there was no visible sky that I could sense or connect to.

I just 🚫 life, minimized it, stayed as small as possible, a non- entity, the living dead.

My life-sky minimization was instinctive, decided for me before I could choose it.

And now, I am inhaling and exhaling the sky because I am no longer dreadfully threatened. There’s been a long pause ⏸️ in the terror, and I find myself having a bit of life left:

The imagery of running on open fields of green grass, the memory of dancing under the sky to live music (last Dec last year), the many beautiful socialization interactions in the taproom that closed less than 3 weeks ago.. these are “the sky”- free from shame.

Red wine 🍷 has been very helpful.

It’s been beautiful, Peter, the awakening, the spreading the fingers covering my eyes and seeing-hearing-sensing the 🎶 🎵, the sky 💙

Anatta 😊