I was delirious, stumbling over my own feet and the flat, huge long roots of rainforest trees created walls, flowy spiraling wavy walls that told me I was safe, secure. This kept me going — feet rooted in mud, then uplifted, then planted. My heart in my mouth my heart beating my whole body my whole body beating with the earth. An anchor. Not in the sense of holding you down. A pressing firmly. The ground beneath told me between breaths that I was alive.
Being Sage: Roots
