I no more feel like a ghost, i feel like the earth, the soil with it’s deep and complex network of roots and mycelium, with a whole ecosystem of bugs and living things crawling around. I can feel the cover of dead leaves and rotting fruit accumulated on top of me, not hindering my feelings but comforting like a blanket, protecting the bulbs and the nuts that fell on the ground at the turn of the seasons, allowing them to slowly get ready to bloom in the spring, feeding on this bed of decomposing remnants from the past. My body and my mind are my landscape now, a familiar place to roam and explore, with new things to notice during every walk. I accept and embrace the decay the rot and the mold slowly covering and transforming what is dead in my land. It is as important as the blossoming and growth of new and exciting forms of life. We feed and live amongst dying things.
And in that landscape is an old cemetery, complete with wrought iron gates, crumbling monuments and shadowy crypts. The main difference now is that i don’t haunt these parts as an immaterial being but became the very land and trees and wind that is the cemetery. The other ghosts living in the cemetery are part of me too, i can get to know them in a different way now. And deep inside this land that is myself lies many many layers of sediment, trees, plants and animals that died ages ago and were slowly covered by a new bed of rotting matter, compressed by the weight of time, some forgotten, some remembered but all contributing to the shape and composition of the top soil. Like the buried ruins of ancient temples affecting the growth of the crops growing over them centuries later.
