When I stepped through that airport gate, I thought I was stepping back into life.

The airport was only partly functioning. The restrictions of the coronavirus era were beginning to loosen, and it felt as though we were waking from a very bad dream. I was nervous, excited and convinced that something important was about to begin.

Ahead of me was a country I knew but had never set foot in. New places. New people. New cultures. New possibilities. I wondered whether everything would go to plan, knowing, as we all do, that life rarely tells us what is waiting around the corner.

What I could not see were the challenges the next few years would bring: doubt, disillusionment and disappointment—sometimes leaving me genuinely distraught.

Almost without realising it, I had moved from one collective nightmare into a more personal one. Ambitions were derailed. Positive thoughts became harder to hold onto. Valued relationships came under strain, devoted love was questioned, confidence was damaged and bad habits crept in. At times, I wanted to retreat completely.

I found myself caught between fight and flight: wanting to press forward, yet longing for solitude and silence. I needed space to reflect, protect myself and understand what was happening.

That is where the “D” comes from.

The English language is full of words beginning with D that describe difficult states of mind:

Down. Distraught. Despondent. Depressed. Darkness. Drowning. Disappointed. Distressed.

Some are passing dips. Others carry far more weight. Sometimes several arrive together, like waves, gradually eroding your wellbeing and your will to keep going.

Solitude can help, but eventually silence creates its own pressure. The need to talk, express, vent and release begins to surface—sometimes as a storm, sometimes as only a few quiet words. Looking back, I think both were necessary before I could begin to see a way beyond the immediate “D”.

People say that rain cleanses and clarity follows the storm. That can be difficult to believe when you are still standing in the rain—or feel as though you are drowning in it.

But, eventually, something begins to shift.

A journey unfolds, emotional if not physical. New horizons appear. Fresh starts become imaginable. Hearts and minds may be bruised, and spirits weakened, but they are not necessarily broken.

Out Of The “D” brings together six songs by kindness RAINS eternal. Each one explores a different state of mind: anxiety, fear, confusion, isolation, hope and illusion. Together, they trace the uncertain movement from being trapped inside the “D” towards something freer, healthier and more enriching.

It is not a neat story of recovery. Real life rarely is. It is about finding something positive, however small, and following it until another way forward begins to appear.

If you are living through a “D” of your own, take the private space you need. Find silence. Find nature. But when you can, try to talk. A few honest words and a compassionate ear can open doors we thought were closed.

Be kinder—especially to yourself. Cut yourself some slack. You may already be closer to a new beginning than you realise.

If you have listened to the collection, I would love to hear from you:

• What does the “D” represent for you?
• Which of the six songs connected with you most?
• What has helped you begin finding your way out?

Share as much or as little as feels right. I will be reading the comments.

Sincerely,
Andrew