Permission

I've mentioned elsewhere in this blog that S is self employed.  She is a trigger point practitioner and has her own clinic.  I just want to write a little about what it's like to be with someone that is so intuitive with my body and my emotional state.

I can't explain it.

LOL!

How's that for a blog?  Nice.

I'll try.

Often times when I am on her massage table, face down, and she is working on my neck or my shoulders I feel myself start to cry... like a small sob choke itself out.  She says the right thing.  The "right thing" is the thing that lets the rest of the tears free. 

I don't know where the tears come from.  I'm not in pain (well... not TEAR inducing pain).  I'm not feeling sad.  The source doesn't appear to be from any of the usual "tear sources" that I am used to.  Quite honestly, I am just relieved that she has never stopped and asked me, "What's wrong?"  She just keeps going like she knows exactly why I am crying, even if I don't know why I am crying.  I am given permission.

I lie there on her table, face down, naked and vulnerable, and she presses and squeezes the tears out of me.  I usually imagine a bucket on the floor beneath me catching my tears.  Not one drop of salty tear being missed.  She just keeps pressing and squeezing and smoothing her strong hands over my tight muscles until I can feel them begin to release beneath her grasp.

The tears come in streams, dripping from the tip of my nose, into the imaginary bucket.  I imagine the bucket full - and sometimes... I imagine myself picking that bucket up, and I drink from it.  I drink my own salty tears in an attempt to quench a thirst I never knew I had.  I feel the warmth of my own tears filling my belly and my soul, and I am able to calm myself.

Sometimes I sit down on the floor next to my bucket of tears, and I use a little tiny pink wash cloth to clean myself.  Only it's me as a little girl again.

I've been given permission.