There’s something magical that happens on a massage table. I’m not talking from the client’s perspective (that happens too!), but rather from the therapist’s perspective. Having been in private practice for six years, I’ve experienced this phenomenon time and time again, with both men & women.
Oftentimes clients are uncomfortable with undressing for a massage session. Even though they undress with privacy and I keep their most private & requested body parts covered with a sheet for the duration of the massage, clients still often feel vulnerable exposing their bare skin.
Some clients may have excess adipose (fat) tissue, varicose veins, scars, dimples, birth marks or other physical details that may cause them to feel ultra self-conscious.
Guess what?
I’m not checking you out. I’m not judging you or your body. Something magical happens no matter what: every body is beautiful on my table. And, for the most part, my eyes are closed. I’ve learned over the years that if I close my eyes, my sight will move to my fingertips. I can “see” the tension, blocks & tenderness being held in the body.
As I massage your body and you being to relax in to the therapeutic touch, essential oils & music, your inner light begins to shine and our souls begin to communicate. This happens more intensely with some clients more than others, but it happens always to some degree. With very few & far between clients do I feel strictly a physical, shallow exchange.
It’s amazing! As the hour passes I fall into a deep respect and awe for the person who graces my table. I feel as though I’ve been honored with the privilege of massaging the Queen.
This may sound corny to you (and it kind of does to me too) but there’s no other way for me to express the magic that happens on my massage table. Superficialities fall away and we are able to connect on a much deeper, soulful level. Often the hour passes so quickly that I know we’ve gone to a timeless, magical place together.
It’s the inherent beauty of a massage which proves to nurture the physical, emotional, and spiritual spaces we all inhabit. It why a good massage can reset and recalibrate a person in more ways than just the physical.
Last night I was reading from Martha Beck’s book titled Finding Your Own North Star and read the following passage which reminded me to share with you my long-time fascination with my massage table magic:
“One reason I can see my clients the way Mrs. Burke sees Chris [her child] is that my essential self tends to come out when I’m doing life design. As this occurs, it becomes impossible for me to see the false, social-self version of the person sitting across from me. The more you integrate your essential self, the more you will perceive both yourself and others in this way. When the curtain of social judgement pulls back, it reveals the most amazing beauty.
I first became aware of the phenomenon which I was a college art student. Every few weeks, I’d join this or that group of artists, and we’d all pitch in a few buck to rent a studio and hire a model. Most of the people we got to pose were college students with bodies that matched the social ideal – slender, fit, perfectly proportioned. (after all, who else would risk standing naked in a roomful of strangers?) And then, one day, we got somebody really different.
She looked well over sixty, with a deeply lined face and a body that was probably fifty pounds heavier than her doctors would have liked. She’d had a few doctors, too, judging from her scars. Shining purple welts from a cesarean section and knee surgery cut deep rifts in the rippled adipose fat of her lower body. Another scar ran across one side of her chest, where her left breast had once been. When she first limped onto the dais to pose, I felt so much pity and unease that I physically flinched. But we were there to draw her, so I picked up a pencil.
The thing about drawing is that you can’t do it well with your social self. You have to bring out your essential self, which doesn’t know anything about social stereotypes. And so, as I began to draw this maimed old woman, the most amazing thing happened. Within five minutes, she became a person of absolutely wondrous beauty. She didn’t look like a supermodel; she didn’t have to. Her body, in and of itself, was as beautiful as a piece of polished driftwood, or a wind-carved rock, or a waterfall. My essential self didn’t know that I was supposed to compare the woman to various movie stars, any more than it would have evaluated the Andes Mountains by judging how much they looked like an Iowa cornfield. It simply saw her as she was: an exquisite sculptural form.
When this perceptual shift happened, I was so surprised that I stopped drawing and simply stared. The model seems to notice this, and without turning her head, looked straight into my eyes. Then I saw the ghost of a smile flicker across her face, and I realized something else: She knew she was beautiful. She knew it, and she knew that I’d seen it. Maybe that’s why she had consented to pose nude in the first place. Knowing that a roomful of artists couldn’t draw her without seeing her – I mean really seeing her – she may have decided to give us a gentle education about our perceptions.”
So if you’ve been on my table, now you know what I was thinking during the session. The art of massage is much like the art of drawing: once you really “see” the details, you can’t help but become reverent of the simple, pure beauty of each and everybody that graces your table.
If you’ve not yet been on my table, I look forward to treating you like the Queen…or King!
{ 0 comments… add one now }