The other day, I finally had a massage with Melody Williams at Living Well Dallas.
I say finally because I have been wanting to see her for some time… three months, roughly.
Every time I get a massage, I make a bold and definitive statement to myself. I say "I am going to do this every month." I say "I deserve a massage each month." I say "It’s worth it. I need it."
I’ve been dealing with chronic back and hip pain for about 9 years and massage is definitely one form of self-care that helps alleviate this pain. So I’m going to do this monthly, I declare, to myself, from the table, in my state of bliss.
And then months pass by.
My intentions for radical self-care are often thwarted by radical excuses.
Or radical procrastination. Or radical what? Negligence? Radical negligence. Those two words together just made me shudder. But isn’t that what it really boils down to, when I ignore this important piece of my self-care plan?
I know it feels good. It makes me feel better. It diminishes my pain. And yet I don’t go. Am I a masochist?
What is it that prevents us from doing the very things that are most pleasurable, most beneficial, most healing, most loving? (That's a rhetorical question. Or maybe it isn't.)
So I finally got back on the table. And needless to say, Melody found many knots to untie.
Her style is a fusion of Swedish, Deep Tissue, Trigger Point, I think I even noticed some Thai massage stretches in there, and sometimes, it was intense.
Truth of the matter is sometimes it did not feel good.
Actually, sometimes, it hurt.
But, like most positive changes in my life, and maybe your life too, there is some degree of ‘pain’ that often needs to be experienced on the path to recovery and healing.
Untangling, undoing, unknotting, and sure, while we’d love for things to be all pleasure-y, all blissy, all the time, oftentimes, first comes the work.
And we worked.
She worked on me, and I worked on tolerating it.
She kneaded and I unfolded.
She honed in on my problem areas and I honed in on releasing the tension that causes me so much pain.
She worked on untying the knots and I worked on breathing into the knots, softening and surrendering to her therapeutic touch, fingers and hands that invited me to entertain the possibility of another way of being.
Some of the knots were untied. And much to my joy, when we were done, for a while, I felt less pain in my back and hip than I have felt in many months. The “pain” brought relief… irony, I know, but it’s true.
Next time, I’m not going to wait months to do it.
Massage is medicine for me. It's not indulgence. It's not splurging. It’s an act of self-love and care.
And I, above all else, am deserving of my love and care.
I say finally because I have been wanting to see her for some time… three months, roughly.
Every time I get a massage, I make a bold and definitive statement to myself. I say "I am going to do this every month." I say "I deserve a massage each month." I say "It’s worth it. I need it."
I’ve been dealing with chronic back and hip pain for about 9 years and massage is definitely one form of self-care that helps alleviate this pain. So I’m going to do this monthly, I declare, to myself, from the table, in my state of bliss.
And then months pass by.
My intentions for radical self-care are often thwarted by radical excuses.
Or radical procrastination. Or radical what? Negligence? Radical negligence. Those two words together just made me shudder. But isn’t that what it really boils down to, when I ignore this important piece of my self-care plan?
I know it feels good. It makes me feel better. It diminishes my pain. And yet I don’t go. Am I a masochist?
What is it that prevents us from doing the very things that are most pleasurable, most beneficial, most healing, most loving? (That's a rhetorical question. Or maybe it isn't.)
So I finally got back on the table. And needless to say, Melody found many knots to untie.
Her style is a fusion of Swedish, Deep Tissue, Trigger Point, I think I even noticed some Thai massage stretches in there, and sometimes, it was intense.
Truth of the matter is sometimes it did not feel good.
Actually, sometimes, it hurt.
But, like most positive changes in my life, and maybe your life too, there is some degree of ‘pain’ that often needs to be experienced on the path to recovery and healing.
Untangling, undoing, unknotting, and sure, while we’d love for things to be all pleasure-y, all blissy, all the time, oftentimes, first comes the work.
And we worked.
She worked on me, and I worked on tolerating it.
She kneaded and I unfolded.
She honed in on my problem areas and I honed in on releasing the tension that causes me so much pain.
She worked on untying the knots and I worked on breathing into the knots, softening and surrendering to her therapeutic touch, fingers and hands that invited me to entertain the possibility of another way of being.
Some of the knots were untied. And much to my joy, when we were done, for a while, I felt less pain in my back and hip than I have felt in many months. The “pain” brought relief… irony, I know, but it’s true.
Next time, I’m not going to wait months to do it.
Massage is medicine for me. It's not indulgence. It's not splurging. It’s an act of self-love and care.
And I, above all else, am deserving of my love and care.
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