Walking Practice

by Dolki Min

Every night, without exception, I a m p l a g u e d by nightmares. No, not p l a g u e d by dreams but by my past. There is n o w a y t o b r e a k f r e e from its grip. T h e p a s t is a discarded thread of s p i d e r silk. If I am not careful, I could s p e n d m y w h o l e l i f e unknowingly w r a p p e d u p in it. But the more a w a r e I become of the spider silk, the more tightly it will bind me. Then I see a v i s i o n of a spider c h a r g i n g down the thread straight at me. What I have just seen is a h a l l u c i n a t i o n . But y o u h a v e t o k n o w it is a hallucination in order to i d e n t i f y i t as a hallucination. That’s why these visions are often m o r e t e r r i f y i n g than reality.