Her mind had always known how to travel.
It created scenes she had never seen,
places she had never been,
as if imagination were her native language.

At night, her dreams were rich and colourful.
She flew through the air,
walked through glowing landscapes,
felt emotions so real
that when she woke,
they stayed with her for hours.

During the day,
she let her mind wander freely,
turning ordinary moments into stories.
She imagined people she passed
in unexpected, sometimes funny situations.

It coloured her life.
It made her creative.
It helped her solve her own problems
and the problems of others.

She was proud of this gift.
It made her useful.
Needed.
She liked helping people.

Then one evening,
something happened.

She was walking home,
headphones on,
lost in her music,
not noticing the danger waiting for her
in a dark alley.

After that night,
something inside her changed.

Fear settled in her body
as a constant tightness in her stomach.
A quiet, relentless clenching
that never fully left.
It was always there,
reminding her
that something was wrong.

And slowly,
her imagination changed too.

The mind that once created beauty
began producing only one thing:
darkness.

The same frightening images,
again and again.
Her thoughts looped endlessly.
Her dreams became repetitive and disturbing.
It was as if her powerful, creative mind
had locked itself
onto one terrible story
and could no longer release it.

It made her life unbearable.

She searched for solutions.
She searched for escape.
But nothing worked.
And the suffering grew.

Until one day,
in the middle of doing something ordinary,
something unexpected happened.

For a brief moment,
her mind went quiet.

There were no dark images.
No fear-filled stories.
Just silence.

It was strange,
but it was good.
Very good.

It wasn’t happiness.
It wasn’t joy.
It was neutral.
And that silence felt like rescue.

She wanted more of it.
So she began to look for it.

She noticed that
when she became aware
of the edges of her visual field,
seeing what was on the right
and on the left at the same time,
more silence appeared in her head.

She also noticed that
when she paid attention
to the space around her,
her mind quietened again.

Little by little,
there was more silence.

At the same time,
the dark images appeared less often.
And in their place,
single good thoughts began to appear.
Simple ideas.
Possible solutions.

And then she discovered something even deeper.

When her mind was quiet,
she saw that both good thoughts
and bad thoughts
appeared on top of the silence.

The silence always came first.

And she was not the thoughts.
She was that silence.
She was the quiet background.
That open space.
That neutral, living presence
from which everything could arise.

Thoughts came.
Thoughts went.
Images appeared.
Images disappeared.

But the space remained.

And the more she rested there,
the more balanced her life became.
Calmer.
Softer.
More beautiful
in a way that could not be explained.

Now, whenever the constant change
of impressions,
images,
stories,
and emotions
tries to carry her away again,
she knows what to do.

She returns to silence.
She notices space.

And everything finds its balance,
not because it makes sense,
but because it is.

Just stay aware of space.
Tomasz