Leaving my treehouse cocoon, barefoot again, feeling the stones and the prickles.
Vulnerable, heart cracked open, yawning open, trying not to slam it closed again like the Pied Piper’s mountain.
Trying to just breathe, and be, in my raw open state.
Knowing I have no answers.
Wondering how and why I got here. Fifty-two, far from my family and the home of my youth. Second marriage over.
Looking up through the branches of the sacred oak.
This is how it feels.