Red. All you see is red. Red’s usually the color of rage. For some people, things go black. Like a curtain’s been drawn.
Either way — for whatever color for whatever hellish emotion you’re currently engulfed in — the feeling-tone is one of being consumed. Swept away. Far, far away from home. Way past where the wild things are.
It’s just a story.
A very believable story.
We’re always one thought away from home.
One thought away from being able to sink back and trust-fall into that awareness — that Presence which notices the story. It’s from this safe place that you can see the dragons floating by and see them as the shadows they are in that instant before turning on the light of awareness which makes them disappear.
This is home. To the ego, getting there from here seems like leaping over a gaping abyss. But that’s just another trick.
One thought, and you’re there. Home sweet home.