It was a full-body scan, holistically therapeutic kind of day. Literally. From the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
I awoke to a left foot that looked pretty good on the outside; but with innards that felt grossly twisted, sticky chunks of gnarly, connective tissue enmeshed like vines tangled up amongst themselves. The remedy was clear, and how fortunate I was that massage therapy was first up on the day’s agenda.
Pascale dug right in, employing her oft-used mode of distracting me from the pain that she (unintentionally) inflicts up and down my left leg; recounting anecdotes about her daughter and husband, engaging me in conversation about books, film, dance and travel. It’s a sneaky – but perfectly effective – way of deflecting my resistance as she meanders up and down my left leg.
Next up: A dental detour. In other words, directing myself – at a nearly panic-stricken state – to a second dentist for a second opinion on a pretty radical (and radically expensive) procedure that I had great difficulty deciding whether or not to agree to. Thank heavens for the verdict I received this afternoon; no need to rush, he said; it doesn’t seem urgent at all, so why not wait and see if it doesn’t resolve itself with more healing time. Amen to cautious but conservative dental surgeons.
And then (deep breath everyone), I crossed a long bridge – no! not on bicycle! – for a Reiki share on the south shore. I’d been to Eric’s home before, so I knew to expect a drool-filled welcome from Hunter (the husky) and a wave of heat from the fireplace. A cup of tea and oatmeal cookie warmed me up inside before we headed to the basement with the self-heating (I kid you not!) massage table in tow. Ok, you have to plug it in, but can you imagine anything more inviting than lying on a toasty table for a massage, or Reiki?! The tea was good, really good; but the warmth of Eric’s hands on my shoulders and back, seeping into my body… well, that really did the trick.
The day’s healing ‘bookend’ occurred in the evening: more therapy, but not for my foot, nor my mouth or back. Rather, for my soul and psyche. I let loose, the laundry list of current stress factors spilling out at a hare’s pace. Might as well unleash it all here, I figured. Call it catharsis, or an honesty borne of all the releases that had accumulated over the course of the day.
I am finally, officially, unequivocally, wiped out. Exhausted. Fatigued. Shaken up. Body, heart, mind and soul. And yet, there’s a little spirit nudging at me, assuring me that there’s more to come, more to unleash, more to let bloom. Ahhh… let’s see.