Allowing Myself

…to feel, to love, to be.

Tag: massage

Clarity, Or Lack Thereof

We’re almost there. Bags are packed. To Dos are almost completed. Work is done. A few loose ends before we get on the plane and fly.

Today was better than yesterday.

H said it best: “Everyone is like, ‘oh that’s my one and only request’. Yeah, you and everyone else”

He’s right. We’re still hanging in there but things pile up quickly. I made sure to bang through email today, clearing out my in box. I went for a massage. Feel asleep during it, the bright sun disorientating as I walked back to my car.

My brain is fried. It’s hard to put a complete thought together and have it flow from my mouth coherently. I’m looking forward to TV and reading on the plane. The adventure is just starting and I feel beat up and unprepared. It’s crazy to think, “I’m getting married this week” but I am. We are. And until then, we’ve just got to keep swimming.

 

This Grateful Season – Hot Stone Massage

It’s a 2nd floor walk-up, the massage place I went today. Up the creaking stairs covered in purple carpet, I felt like I was back in Boston. Two people sat perched at the top of the stairs. They stared at me. I rounded the corner to the little entry way and gave my name. I was the sole customer.

The room was small, with miscellaneous items piled under the massage table for storage. I didn’t know where to put my bag. The table didn’t feel as comfortable as other places’ but the sheets seemed clean enough.

Yesterday, I felt pretty crappy, and while I woke up feeling good this morning, today wasn’t much better. Found myself sobbing in the car on the way there – traffic, people honking, the general build up of frustrations over the day. Was extra grateful that I’d booked the massage and didn’t put it off thinking I’d feel better.

While the place itself was shabby, my masseuse was good. Her “medium” pressure was harder than I’m used to, her strong hands kneading my muscles and squeezing the tension out of me.

So, hot stones. Never had this before. It was pretty magnificent. It was a typical massage, but she placed hot rocks on my back, over the sheets at first, like a heating blanket with concentrated heat. Then, she had hot rocks in her hands as she massaged – it was amazing. So, grateful for this – for having spent the money on the voucher back in June, so I could get a massage now without spending money today – and for taking time to take care of myself.

Also, grateful that my fiance spent a good chunk of time booking our flights home for Christmas (finally done!).

And this… time alone at my kitchen table, writing:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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**For the month of November, I’m posting something each day that I’m grateful for. It may be as long as an intricate post, as short as a quote, as simple as a link or as wordless as a photograph. A friend has come on board. Join us?

Always Book the Massage

A little rain cloud hovered over me the past 11 days. First it was booking too many appointments, then H getting sick. After two days at home his health didn’t improve, so then it was an ER visit and a diagnosis of walking pnemonia. This meant heaps of responsibility on me, plus nights of bad sleep, on top of the meetings, draining my voice and my energy.

Overwhelmed. Resentful. Depleted. But I kept going back for more, like an addict seeking their high. I cleaned dish after dish, folded laundry, ran with the dog, took another meeting, drank another coffee…and felt shittier and shittier.

Finally, I escaped into a book (Girl With The Dragon Tattoo) but I could feel the emotional tunnel vision.

And the fantasies began. A full day at a coffee shop, writing. Craving a vacation, specifically a road trip, I pictured myself driving, camping, taking pictures and writing. A jailbreak. I read pages of blogs, dreaming of my own unmade art, talent and potential.

It escalated last night with H saying something to me that was quite observant and meant to help ease the tension. Instead, I felt hot tears spring under my close eyelids. I was just too damn tired to discuss anything. “I just want to be left alone,” I thought – physically alone to sleep in my bed, emotionally alone to be calm, and mentally alone to stop thinking.

But here’s where my newer status as mature and healthy come in…

This morning I woke up and I booked myself a massage. This instant action of self-care immediately gave me a boost. Instead of wallowing and panicking about how I felt vs how much I had to do, I asked myself, “What would I do with this day if I were completely free and lived alone?” Weird question, maybe, but it absolved me of any responsibility to anyone but myself.

So I did my work, moving through emails, calls and planning, knowing all the while that I would be receiving some serious attention in the afternoon.

And y’know, it wasn’t the best massage I’ve ever had, but it was exactly what I needed. And as I watched the therapist read my little file, I could see three other names denoting the three other times I’ve gone their for a massage. This was my 4th time in 2+ years…

How is it possible that I keep myself from something that makes me so happy? A massage every 6 months, maybe? I ration self-care. What am I waiting for? What are we all waiting for? I keep running into this subject, this gem of advice that seems so smart and yet, counter-intuitive:

“Treating myself as a precious object makes me stronger”

Today was a perfect example. I’m feeling more secure and balanced than I did yesterday, and also more loved. It’s so important that we learn to take care of ourselves. No one else is going to do it for us.

Always book the massage.

Diving In

I have a side business (www.homelifema.com) on top of my regular 9-5, my boyfriend, my dog, long-distance phone calls to my favorite people, exercising and errands… You can see how it’s possible that I love blogging but have yet to carve out a consistent time for it. Today though, I somehow did it all. Well, not ALL, but everything I set out to do. And not even that, but I touched, if ever briefly, on each aspect of my life I currently deem important. I didn’t have a dream day or even a vacation day, but I did have a FULL day.

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