After my meditation retreat (dancemeditation.org) I have fewer thoughts in my head.
I care for the slightly licorice taste of basil and the pungent salt smell of ripening tomatoes.
My deepest fears feel somehow like surface patter in comparison to the heady summer scents washing over me.
My home is full of fresh chamomile and drying linden, blooming gardenias, yellow sweet clover, with an undertone of Paul’s tobacco and the dogs.
Earthy, moving smells rich in their beings.
That is how I feel.
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