The Smell of Purple: My Spine and the Subtle Body

When I was a young girl, I loved to wander and search for adventure at a nearby swamp. Sometimes I dared to walk tall down the neighboring trail that was rumored to be haunted by a headless turtle. Some days I ventured a climb up the magnificent oak trees whose wide horizontal limbs spread out over the water and told me that if I stood up and allowed myself to be held by an ancient outstretched arm, I could feel the expansiveness and rhythm of the earth. Every summer there were some incredible purple flowers that popped up among the tall grasses on the marshy shore. I remember rustling through the waving green towers to get close to…

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