She tells me to be gentle with myself. I want to be a good little subject, despite my doubts about trusting the process let alone myself, so I try to concentrate on being kind to myself for a while.
I sit alone on the floor in a darkened room and listen to the sound of the rain as it falls upon the house and drenches the dry summer grass outside. As soon as I close my eyes and slow my breathing, I can feel the atmosphere is electric.
It simmers all around and inside of me, as though my pulse is learning to syncopate with a plane beyond this one. Coordinates which suspend all time and space. Judgment and cruelty fall away like stars fading out into mist.
I still feel a bit shaky and uncertain inside my own thin frame. I remain still, listening. Imagining the soft strength of…
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