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  • I was going to write about my tempestuous relationship with this mercurial bitch of a city. How in the past six years I’ve given her everything but the blood in my veins. How she’s made me see things about myself and the country I choose to live in that maybe I didn’t want to see. How in documenting her unfathomable trauma and rebirth I’ve fallen apart and built myself back up in ways I never imagined possible.

    I was going to write about all that, but first I went for a run in City Park. As I came to a panting halt, I found myself within spitting distance of the “Singing Tree”. I’ve always wanted to check it out but was put off by the barking dogs and screaming children that seem to orbit around it. But this time it was alone and beckoning me like some ancient siren. I stepped closer and found myself transported to a sacred space, part cathedral part ashram. A magical refuge in plain sight. Right here, right now, this is where I need to be.
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