An overcast sky and a cold March day made the heated massage table that much more inviting. My husband nested right in, wasting no time getting comfortable.
People might argue that pain does not whisper, but I can assure you it did at some point. That job you don’t like has transformed into digestive issues, something you can no longer stomach. That headache might have roots in the sharp words spoken to you during a fight long ago, but we often don’t notice until there’s pain or another problem.
My husband accidentally hung himself as a child. He remembers slipping the rope around his neck then coming to on the floor with family members crying around him. He tells the story with a sense of detachment. “It was easy,” he said.
"I feel sorry for your husband," said my client. "You're strong!" A smile spread across my face and we both laughed. I miss this part, building relationships, connecting in this quiet space, but I don't miss my massage practice. I closed that over a year ago. My license expires at the end of the year … Continue reading Why I Quit Doing Massage
Who were you before they broke your heart? I think it's safe to say I've done thousands of body work treatments in the past twelve years. In that time I've gotten many lessons on human nature. One of those lessons is about how people sometimes attach themselves to a story. The story always has one … Continue reading Who Are You?
I place my hands on the body, close my eyes and wait. I wait for the body's response to my touch. Sometimes that comes fast. Sometimes there is no response. That is also helpful.
A discussion about desirable funeral homes and burial wishes ensued between my mother and me as we drove to church in an unfamiliar town. I swore at the voice coming from my phone for her split-second-too-late directions, while mom slammed on her imaginary brakes from the passenger side.
A skeleton lingered as she took a step forward. It wasn't eager to separate. Nothing happened for a few moments. I watched, feeling impatient.