And now I’m even more appreciative of my massage therapist.
I’m starting to think I’m a walking, talking guitar string; my muscles seem to be tight everywhere. I know my massage therapist is making huge progress just by how I feel but it also seems like 3 steps forward…one step backward. My unresolved emotions seem to think that my muscles are their personal storage facility. Maybe if I start charging rent they’ll stop this madness!
SheRa walked all over me on one of my visits. It was my first time and it was really cool! The broadness of her feet and the weight of her body really gave my scapula’s a run for their money. They’re supposed to move…they didn’t; now they do! Even though she can’t dig into spots like her fingers can, her feet found muscles in my legs that made me stop talking so I could breathe through the pain.
We have a number system for pain level. She backs off when it gets to an 8 although there are a few times when I just breathe through it because I want that muscle to get back to normal. And that is what happened when she inadvertently found…my secrets spot.
My next session with SheRa was back to using her hands. She started working on the muscles under & around my arm pit and they were incredibly tight and sore. SheRa’s response, “OMG, what are you hiding under here?” Betsy & Elizabeth were concentrating on relaxing the muscle in question. Out of nowhere Tebazilena said, “My secrets. The stuff I don’t tell anyone.” And then my eyes started leaking. SheRa noticed and asked me a couple questions. I don’t even remember what she asked or what I answered but then the damn broke & I was crying a LOT!
And now SheRa knows my secrets. Everything came tumbling out and then…calm. I’ve noticed over the last couple weeks that it’s gotten easier to deal with/release the emotions involved with my secrets. I’m able to see them in a different light. It’s a great feeling! So now my incredible massage therapist is also my therapist. She has done wonders for my physical AND mental body. I’m thankful that she doesn’t charge for both!
Who knew? We have a place on our bodies that we store our secrets. Those tricksy* armpits! I think next time I shave we’re going to have a little talk.
*how can tricksy not be a word?
Elizabeth had a big smile on her face and was all, “WooHoo,”** and giving the thumbs up sign. She would have start chanting “We’re number one! We’re number one!” if Tebazilena hadn’t knocked her on the side of the head, “Listen up numb-nut that is NOT a good thing!” Even Betsy, who momentarily had a smug smile about our being in some sort of ‘elite’ group, had to admit that when a massage therapist is overly impressed with your tightness, you did not win first prize. The only thing I won was a chance to help pay off a bunch more of her* bills and maybe some nice shoes with a matching purse. In the amount of time it may take for her to get my muscles all loosey-goosey again…maybe a trip to a tropical isle.
I tend to store my emotions on my left side which coinkadinky*** is the female side of the body. I asked Gary which side of his body do the muscles hurt more? What a surprise…the right. Every week SheRa P.o.P. has to rework my neck & upper back trying to get ahead of whatever it is I keep storing there. I have a lot more meditating to do to let go of my emotional baggage. Interestingly, my body is a mirror image to my house…a lot of stuff; ironic that I’m trying to downsize both.
One comment that SheRa says which makes us all quite proud is, “You pink up really nice!” In the massage world this means that my blood has good circulation. “WooHoo!” I’ll take whatever compliment I can knowing what wretched condition my muscles are in.
Okay, fast forward a few weeks from when I started writing this post.
SheRa has now moved from my upper bod and started working on the lower back mess. “You’ve got a tight ass!” “Why…thank you very much! I don’t normally let other people feel my ass.” Elizabeth does 3 backflips and is beaming with pride. Tebazilena started to remind us again that this isn’t a compli~Elizabeth slapped a muzzle on her before she could say it. Betsy asked, “Could you make it cute and perky like when we were 20?” “I’m not a miracle worker.” Well, actually she is but gravity seems to be the stronger villain here. On the upside, at least she didn’t say I WAS a tight ass. Having a tight ass sounds way better! And then she laughed at the irony that I’m naked on her table but wearing my socks (I was having a hot flash & she uncovered my feet). What can I say; my feet seem to always be cold & we like our snuggly socks. We talk about the coolest stuff!
*I was messing with you (my massage therapist, who is a woman, suggested I say he instead of she); I will call her SheRa, Princess of Power because she has incredible hands (& probably feet although I haven’t had her walk on me yet) and is very skillful with getting my muscles to do as they’re told.
** Cool words that spell-checker doesn’t know. It wanted me to replace WooHoo with Boohoo. Excuse me but that would mean the OPPOSITE of what I’m trying to convey. I should work with the word people and open their eyes up to all the words they’re missing out on. They must be boring people.
***Spell-checker didn’t even know what to do with this one. LOL, it’s probably still scratching its head.
I should lend her this CD. It would either soothe some of her clientele or freak ’em out.
…I rather enjoyed it!
Even though it was ALL delicious I still prefer eating Indian food just a few times a year. The first time I ate Indian food was in New York City. Who knew goat meat could be so tasty (although those yummy spices would probably make squirrel* taste good).
At the end of the meal our waiter brought us warm, moist, ultra soft napkins rolled up and served on plates so we could wipe our hands (WAY classier than the moist Towelettes I receive at the places I normally frequent). My brother & I started to unroll ours and at the same time noticed our mom had picked hers up and was raising it up to her mouth. We both shouted, “NO!” at the same time before she had a chance to bite off a chunk of her napkin. She blinked in astonishment at us like WE were the crazy ones. “Mom…it’s a napkin…for your hands.” We all had a good laugh about it but in hindsight I had kinda wished that we’d let her go; see how long it would take to bite off a chunk of her chewy ‘burrito.’ In her defense it actually felt like a warm, smooth burrito shell but still…it was the start of our list of “Signs that it’s time for a nursing home.”
I like the ambiance & food at the Indian restaurant near us and I always get the buffet because I have no idea what the names of the dishes mean and the descriptions are kind of vague. I like variety and I can try a sample of all sorts of different dishes. This time before we left, #3 & I took a take-out menu and marked off what we liked from the buffet for next time. I asked the guy where the carrot looking stuff was listed because it was so incredibly delicious; I had a second helping for my dessert. “It’s Gajar Halwa, right here under Desserts.” No WONDER my body was in seventh heaven eating those sweet, coconutty** carrots. It was a DESSERT! Those tricksy** Indian people…I love their style! Thank heavens I had already drunk the Maharaja beer for my dessert before I found out. Two desserts! Win-win for me! In the background: Daughter #3 got brave and ordered the Mango Milk Shake (milk flavored with mango & rose water). Quite tasty!
So I have one Indian dinner under my belt for the new year and I’ve converted #3 over to some new taste experiences that she likes. Of all my kids, #3 was my pickiest eater. And when I say picky, I mean PICKY!!! She drove me slightly crazy insane when it came to eating. I’m still a little in shock at the turnaround she’s done and what she’s willing to try now. I’m so proud of my little pumpkin pie!
Disclaimer: *I’ve never eaten squirrel (although I’m sure someone that actually has will tell me they taste like chicken) but I detest them enough that if there was a Zombie Apocalypse I would definitely put them on the menu!
**Cool words that spell checker doesn’t know.
Surprisingly I have no Indian music on my Favorites List; this video seems to be a good compromise. Instead of ABCD, I saw the letters ACDC (a favorite band of mine) so that got me excited and #3 is good at & loves to dance like the people in this movie. Be forewarned though, it has scary clowns in it and you won’t get this kind of action at the restaurant we went to: