09h15 - The woman who attends to me is named Sylvia. Fitting, as her name means “of the woodlands” and we are in a beautiful forest setting. The trees are thin but they are many and when the wind blows they click against each other in a percussive touch; they are the rhythm section of nature.
Sylvia exfoliates my skin. It is rough and painful. Parting with things I no longer need is painful. I tend to hold onto them with a stubborn persistence despite the fact that they are dead and no longer nourishing. I feel raw and exposed, like freshly-tilled soil, and yet, this is good. I am ready for new seeds – life-giving, sustaining and nourishing elements that can only be planted when the dead brush is cleared away.