posted by Paige on Uncategorized

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Portland, Oregon / Spring, 2002

“How’s this pressure?” I asked, pushing my forearm into the long muscles of Linda’s upper thigh.

“Perfect,” she said, turning her head to the side in the face cradle. “You can continue that way up into my hips.”

Linda was a favorite of mine, as far as regular clients went. She came to me for bodywork about once a week, and we generally chatted amiably throughout our sessions.

After working the tissues in her hips and feeling some release, I began to rock Linda’s pelvis back and forth, letting her body move side to side with its own momentum, waiting for it to come back and meet me before gently pushing again.

This was a move Linda generally enjoyed quite a lot, and I watched her body sway with it, allowing the vibrations running through her to have their effect.

But after a moment her breathing started to catch, quickening and becoming shallow. I heard a sniffle and moved my hand gently to her lower back, letting her body come completely to rest.

“Are you OK?” I asked, moving closer to her head, my hand still on her back.

She turned her face to the side, tears streaming from her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said apologetically.

“It’s OK. Let’s just let it be how it has to be,” I answered. “What can I do for you?”

“A tissue?” she asked, sitting up and gathering the sheet against her as I handed her the box.

Her face was crumpled in a pain that I intuitively knew wasn’t physical. She let her head hang, sobbing, and her body shook in waves.

Sensing that she didn’t need to be touched, I stood back, waiting. At last her body came to rest and a peace fell over the room.

She looked up at me and said, “Do you ever feel …? It’s just that sometimes I get the feeling that nothing is ever enough. That no matter what I do it’s not enough. I just keep going, keep running, keep working, but it’s not enough. Is that crazy?”

“I think that’s a fairly common feeling, actually. Not crazy at all.”

“Is it?” she asked, her face lifting hopefully. “You think lots of people feel that way?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “I do.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” she said, sighing and turning again to rest face-down on the table. “Will you work on my hips again? Just a bit more?”

I continued with the rest of the massage, finishing with my hands gently cradling her head as she lay supine on the table. Her face was smooth and open, her lips curved softly upward.

As she walked out to the front desk, Linda’s gait looked looser, freer. Handing me her check, she grasped my hand and held it for a long moment, looking directly in my eyes. “I just want to thank you,” she said. “That was exactly what I needed.”

“My pleasure,” I smiled.

And it was.

 

Tags: body, emotions, the 500-word project