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Softening into Asheville

Smells of lavender softened into my lungs.

We left the Hammam and I felt like not only had I completely sweat out every toxin in my system, but rather, I felt tapped into myself and my roots.

There’s something that feels like home in a Turkish bath.

A tiny square of soap and a rough mitten to scrub off the remaining dust that had seemed to linger over the past year.

Heartbreak. I was scraping off my heartbreak.

Doubt. I was scraping off my doubt.

Soot that had built up and had been hammered into was finally set free.

The lasting touch of cool water on my skin was memorized like movie line.

Or a new language.

Overwriting the old. Not forgetting, just moving forward.

Waters that felt like birthing completely anew.


The gift shop awaited us.

We were drawn to Turkish towels because we wanted to remember, and I was drawn to lavender - a sweet scent I have never once bought for myself but always loved.

Something about this lavender made it all the more special.

Realistically, simplicity welcomed me with salt caves and nothing but a hot room and a faucet.

Simplicity is really all I needed.

We tend to overcomplicate and manipulate our way out of fate.

We steer backwards, upstream, and sideways hoping the water gently breaks our fall.

But really, all we need in this world is to float. To enjoy. To crash into the waves and to breathe in the lavender. To inhale the simple things, not with force, but with ease.

The senses know home like the heart. In body. Embodied.

- Musings in metaphor from my travels to the Asheville Salt Caves

Blessings and love,


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