Romantic Rubdown

Slow & quiet music, dim lighting, lingerie, and body oils…

What better mood exists for a woman?
One with a man.

  Today was the day that I finally made it to a massage therapist. My shoulders have become so tense, the muscles have knotted into little marbles. Too many cramps and aches forced me to make the appointment. Although I am usually quite hesitant about these kind of visits, finding them to be especially awkward, life has changed me. After three babies and probably a hundred gynecologist meets, I have somewhat mastered the arts of out-of-body experience. I shut my eyes and make believe that I am on a beach in the Bahamas.

  I entered the room with the massage table donned in its white shrouds and was told to strip down to my skivvies. The therapist turned around and I dropped it all and hopped onto the table, burying myself under the sheet. The fact that I showered, shaved, and unknowingly put on nice underwear, helped immensely. I was ready to enter the world of zen.

  I popped my head into the little hole at the edge of the table and let my body relax. Strangely, I am able to literally turn off my body and disappear into paradise; but to turn off my brain, not a chance. There were whirlwinds of thoughts and posts to blog and I tried desperately to shut them down. I couldn’t.

  My cheekbones were starting to ache and were pressing into the sides of the hole. What size people do they make those spots for? Seriously. I started shifting my face which was stuck to the table, and attempted to follow the masseuse’s orders.

I AM relaxing, bloody hell!
What does she think I am doing anyways?
Purposely NOT cooperating?
Really? I paid for this massage.
I should breathe into the knot on my back?

  As much as I inhaled and exhaled, I had no clue how to direct the breaths into the spots that she chose. Call me crazy.

  The music was getting me sidetracked. What kind of music was that anyways? The lighting was nice, especially due to the fact that I felt pretty attractive on the table. I was oiled up and in nice lace underwear in dim romantic lighting. Pity it was a 40- something, female masseuse. Really not my thing. She was breathing heavily and hustling around I couldn’t concentrate on blanking out my head.

  I am making it sound pretty awful, although it was quite relaxing. I just thought I could have done better. Seriously, girl, learn how to take a chill. I will have to become more proficient in the techniques of proper ‘letting go‘.

  After a half hour, she told me to scoot up and flip over. If I thought it was awkward before, it officially turned unpleasant. My eyes were darting around looking for something to do. Was I supposed to close them or watch what she was doing? It was like the uncomfortable kiss with a stranger, when you wonder if you should peak or shut the curious eyes. I decided on sealing them shut after realizing how I was lying naked on the table. All that I was covered by, was a thin white sheet while being rubbed by an unfamiliar face. She proceeded on kneading my body, attempting to promote relaxation and spread of oxygen.

  It was a full body massage and I kept my socks on. I get mad jitters when people touch my toes and so I kept them beneath familiar, cotton, Puma territory. She reached my arms and I left them entirely to her to press the stress out. I was not at all present physically. I was suddenly aware that I had freed myself completely. I was overcome by the sensation of floating outside of my own body. She massaged my arm and it just fell off the side of the bed, hanging like a dead limb. She lifted it and placed it over my chest and did the same with the other arm when it rolled off the bed. I was lying in shrouds appearing like a dead man in a coffin. My arms were even arranged perfectly.

  She stopped and there were some incoherent whispers. She repeated herself slightly louder and I looked at her with sheer perplexity. What the heck was the woman saying and why was she saying it in an undertone? Finally, I made out a few words that resembled something like “I am done now, get up slowly and get dressed”. I guess she did not want to ruin the serenity. I chuckled to myself thinking that she probably just thought I was sleeping and had done a spectacular job.

  It was pretty good. Any part of it that wasn’t, was clearly my fault. I must start educating myself in relaxation techniques and meditation.

  Time for me to find the brain’s Power Off switch.

Posted on July 4, 2011, in My Daily Blogs and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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