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Healing Our Wounded Inheritance
The blankets of the sweat lodge had begun to move with the cool breeze of the desert night, bringing my awareness back to my body. I lay there in the darkness alone; the ground wet with the steam of sage and copal. I was in the primordial mud; in the stillness of the beginning of it all.
The Temazcal, once filled with song and prayer, had carried me to a deep place...
