I walked a quarter of a mile from a house to a caravan, where my bed was. It was a country lane, no cars, grass growing in a thick mohican strip up the centre of the tarmac road. It was thick, black, pitch darkness. No moon, no stars, no anything, just thick blackness of trees and bushes and not so thick blackness where the nothing was. I could not see my hand, I could not see the road, I could only feel the difference between grass and tarmac when I was walking on it.
I started to get scared, in front of me was a wall made out of nothing and I had to walk through it to get to my safety, to my caravan cocoon. I am in the dark, I am all alone, I have nothing to protect me, there is no light to help me, perhaps, if I will walk forward any more I will walk straight into a Monster. I will bump straight into his fur and smell and I won't know what he looks like, only that he has big teeth from a bad dream and that he is going to Eat Me and I will die and not be alive anymore in this lane in the dark.
I can't stay here, I can't sleep here, there is no bed, I have to walk. So I gather my tension and I breathe it all out. I stop separating myself from the darkness and I remember that because I am in it I am part of it, I can become it. I am not alone in the world, I am part of it and so it can't hurt me. There is no unknown in this lane, just trees and grass and mice and sheep, all settling themselves in the darkness.
So I kept breathing and I kept thinking about how I am here now and this is all there is and this is all I am. I don't need to be scared of the dark, I am the dark and the dark is me. And I walked forward. And it was ok.