As I sat and meditated in front of my cat who has an unknown heart issue I felt hte excavator remove a large trench of soil down my middle. It was as if two inches of thick salt-crusted-soil had been removed from my collar bone to my waist between where my backpack straps would hang. That part of me felt young like walking after a deep stretch and moving in a way that feels free, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
How long has my soil been crusted over?
What shall I plant?
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