The Practice That Travels Lighter Than I Do
I used to think of movement as something I scheduled and then resented. I do not move like that anymore, and the one thing that survived turned out to be the only thing that was ever portable.
I used to think of movement as something I scheduled and then resented. I do not move like that anymore, and the one thing that survived turned out to be the only thing that was ever portable.
Ginger grows in the dark, hoarding warmth the way roots do, then gives all of it back the moment you need it. The story of the sun beneath the earth, and the cooling ginger lime tonic I come back to all summer.