I breath in.
I breath out.
Acutely aware of the depth and length of my breathe as my chest rises and falls, the weight of my limbs on the bed, the nothingness of it all as I relax.
Eyes closed, drifting, floating away into my subconscious, that eery half-world between dreams and reality is easily found.
Somewhere I can hear relaxing sounds, the person in the room with me moves around slowly, deliberately. Her fingers, warm and oiled, pull gently around my eyes and across my forehead, pausing to circle on my temples.
And the world melts away again.
It’s only recently that I’ve discovered what bliss actually means. It comes in many forms, but it is recognisable as an escape, an otherworldlyness that takes me away from the everyday.
I embrace it and let it wrap around me, warm, safe and content.