There’s a restlessness in me that defies explanation. It’s not that I am bored – I have any number of creative projects on the go – it’s that I have a sense that I’m missing something, something that lies deep at my core. But what? And how do I access it?

Something that is dormant is not active or growing but has the ability to be active at a later time

I found myself awake most of the night recalling a past trauma. My mind would not let go, retracing the steps, conversations, and events that followed. It’s been almost fifty years since the occurrence, but apparently there is more to examine. Could there be a part of me, buried so deep in that horror, that now wants to emerge?

Something dormant, now stirring…

There’s a story inside that’s trying to take shape. Just random images, really. Maybe it’s related. Think I’ll set some time aside to delve deeper.

In the meantime, this post was inspired by a short story I wrote a few years back for a writing class. Brush Strokes was my response to the topic “dormant”.
(Image my own creation)

Posted by

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

26 thoughts on “Dormant

  1. I think the restlessness in our minds is the beginning of closure. The dusty shelf needs to be dusted to rid itself of layers of the past. I’ve always believed things happen for a reason and feel your love for writing, photography, and art create your path to peace. ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That image is stunning. Very dreamlike too. Wow. Waking up from sleep as you describe happens to me as well. I think the subconscious senses the door is unlocked and out it peeks. To let “it” all the way out doesn’t feel safe – a Pandora’s box perhaps? Sleep is so precious and this is so exhausting. Perhaps writing it out will help.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I believe its about hope and fear because I feel the same way and have the same nightmares. It seems the only thing to do is completely accept what was and what is which is the last thing we want to do. On a lighter note, none of this matters to anyone but us. 😱😱😱

    Liked by 3 people

  4. ….as a survivor (actually, as one still in the process of surviving, some 65 yrs later) of three years/weekly childhood sexual abuse, I am, firstly, utterly understanding of this sort of nocturnal ‘visitation’…and secondly, have found insight from this quote of/by the late author Joan Didion: “. . . I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4 A.M. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. . . “. I so want to put that little boy’s trauma in a file and close it, when suddenly there he is alive and calling to my 75yr old self, wanting my help and acknowledgement.
    But maybe next week I’ll get to explore the colour orange (smile).
    Thank you, VJ, for your posts. Lance

    Liked by 3 people

Your thoughts matter...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.