My left leg felt longer. Dragging in the mud. The left side body – the Feminine side – the past. Louise Hay says we can heal ourselves from dis-ease. Maybe I am having a hard time letting go of the past. My right foot and heel felt more powerful, ready to propel forward. Ready for the next step. My left side and the springy force under my left heel felt worn out – thinner. Like an overstretched elastic – bound to break. Is that just because the carpet was more worn out under my left foot?
How can my right foot, calf, knee, hamstring, quad, thigh and hip take us forward with power when my left leg, toes, heel are limp, deadweight – stuck idly in reverse?
Are there dried twigs sticking out from my Achilles tendon and poking down, staked into the Earth?
I slept a lot this past week. Not at the ‘right’ times though. Up until 2am, sleeping until noon. Maybe the beginnings and endings of the colonial chapters in my life require more rest. Maybe I need to fall deep asleep to reawaken as a new, or partially new version of myself.
Trees. Roots. Earth’s soil. Moss. Pine needles and cedar bows that have fallen on the trail. I do know the softest ground – if I ever needed to rest out in the woods.
What else? My stomach is beginning to grumble – should have made breakfast during the break.
Trees and a tire swing. A story – my body twists around my spine veering to the right rather than straight ahead. Shackles are being broken – leaves are falling to the ground. Trees grow from the inside out, I believe. Flexibility – movement. A bear brings salmon guts up the trail from the creek to nourish and lubricate its bones.
where rivers are born 