Deep Tissue, Happy Endings 3, Ian

I rarely opened a Friday evening slot. . . the coveted 7:00 pm- 9:00 pm time slot, especially in August, but the appointment was snatched up within minutes by a new client named Ian Harris.

After a week in Costa Rica with Mark and two other couples, I felt refreshed and exuberant. We had rented some cottages off the beaten path and our patch of beach had felt like our own private oasis. We had spent almost the entire daylight and evening outside as we fell into our routines of morning coffee, exploring/hiking/adventuring or surfing/volleyball/napping and then eating grilled food outside and sitting around a fire for a nightcap and stories. We had all snuck away for private time as a couple, too. Costa Rica felt like home to me – natural, tropical, fresh, quiet. Sensual and sexy.

But after a week away, I was eager to get back to my life and new challenges. To continue to connect with my clients and help them experience their wholeness. And with Mark away attending to urgent family matters, I felt inspired to open up the Friday time slot.

As usual, I dressed professionally, but stylishly for the first meeting. Most of my clientele were professionals. My masseuse business was both traditional and non-traditional based on the client’s comfort level. But the more risks I took with non-traditional, intuitive methods. . . the more fun I had, and it seemed to make all the difference for the clients. I had been booked up for months purely by word of mouth.

As Mr. Ian Harris entered my office, I greeted him in one of my favorite vibrant, custom-fitted purple skirts and tops. The top was adorned with metallic beading and my shoes were navy metallic. I wore my shoulder length brown wavy hair down, with tasteful make-up, and a drop opal earring. My skin was caramel colored from sunbathing in the nude. To complement the purple, I wore a soft, pink shimmer lipstick.

As he entered, I smiled and greeted him with a warm handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Harris. I’m Sidney Peters, but please call me Sidney. To best suit your needs, I find it is helpful to recap what brought you here. I can also review how I work, as I tend to work differently than a traditional massage therapist. Please, have a seat. I took the liberty of bringing you some hot chamomile tea and a lemon water if you’d like to hydrate a bit."

Ian sat at home, on his computer as he always did. As the video played on the screen before him, he went through another cycle of stretching exercises as directed by his doctor and physical therapist. He felt loose and relaxed throughout his body, but this was never the issue. He’d been doing these for months, but by 3:00pm tomorrow, he’d be twisted up in knots and spasming again. He took long steady breaths as he stood up for the full-body stretches, bending at the waist and assuming a few yoga poses as directed by the video.

He was about to start the next one when a notification popped up on his screen. He’d written a bit of code when he saw how full the referral masseuse's booking schedule was. The site was built on simple “off the shelf” code that anyone not in IT or computer engineering would use to build their site. It was simple enough to check data passing to and from the site to build an alert for when an appointment at a closer date opened up. Ian was in too much pain at work to wait months before he could get in with this masseuse.

“Hmmm, Friday at 7:00pm…” he frowned at the day and time. It wasn’t ideal as he didn’t like giving up his Friday nights. Then again, he couldn’t come up with a reason beyond hanging out with friends to not take the slot. There certainly wasn’t going to be any conflict with dates as his married friends constantly reminded him. He sighed and hovered his mouse over the slot on the calendar.
“Nothing to lose, I guess…” he told himself as he clicked it and put his name in for the open slot.

==============================================================

That had been about a week ago now. Now, Ian found himself sitting in his car, rubbing his shoulder as best he could to make it feel less tight. Even with everyone usually leaving early on a Friday, Ian was out of work late again today. He barely had time to get home and shower and put on loose fitting clothes for his visit with the masseuse. What made it worse was how tight he felt all over. He wasn’t able to wash his back in his current state; it hurt too much.

He rushed through the building, seeing hardly anyone there besides some cleaning staff in some of the other offices. He made it to the office at 7:00pm exactly, which made him feel late. He looked around the office and it was not what he expected. He always pictured massage therapists in the private sector as being into crystals and spiritualism, but the office looked like a high-end spa more than anything. He didn’t see a receptionist in the first room so he kept on walking. He stopped short when he found a door with the name of the woman he was here to see: Sidney Peters.

Taking a moment, he cleared his throat and straightened his loose t-shirt. Stepping through the door he was greeted by a sight he did not expect. Before him was the most alluring, stunning and confident woman he’d ever seen in his life. She was dressed impeccably. She was tanned and healthy in her body; no malnourishment from life eating diets. And she had a smile that put him completely at ease right away. He nearly missed the handshake from looking deep in her eyes, but caught himself and shook her hand back.

As she sat down, Ian saw the glass of water waiting for him. He didn’t care much for tea; it didn’t have a strong enough flavor for his palate. He thanked her politely for the prepared drinks and gulped down about half the glass of water. With all his running around to get here in time, he’d made himself quite parched. He set the glass down and settled in to listen to Ms. Peters… Sidney, for his first visit.

“Great, seems simple enough. Is there a form I need to fill out for your files or did my doctor’s office forward over the paperwork already? Or will you record the interview and transcribe it later? Also, before we begin, I apologize for my dress.” Ian gestured to his loose tee ad his even looser workout pants. “I was under the impression I should dress casually for, um… the, um… table session.” He said, sounding embarrassed to even be talking about the massage and the likelihood that he’d need to be naked for it. As the awkward silence stretched on, Ian reached for the glass again, finishing the remaining half as his throat felt suddenly dry.

Ian felt very out of place. Not only was he seemingly under-dressed, he felt totally inadequate to sit in this woman's presence. While she was an example of stunning beauty, he felt instantly dumpy and old. His thinning hair came to a sharp widow's peak which he was sure she was staring at and his extra weight due to his inactivity at work felt twice as heavy. He even started feeling bad about making her touch him as he was sure to come later. He sighed and settled into the chair a little bit more, not even able to look her in the eye. "So.. so I'm eager to hear what we have to do to get started," were his words, but his body language was completely wrong.

I let the nervous energy around us escape a bit and then I spoke.

“Mr. Harris, I assure you, it doesn’t matter what you wear here. Of course, dress comfortably. I have a dressing room where you can shower before or after your appointment if necessary. You’ll be undressed, but draped for your massage. I provide a sheet for you to wrap around your waist until you are recumbent on the table. So, what you wear here is unimportant for our purposes,” I said, with a warm wink.

I unfolded my legs and retrieved another cold water from the office refrigerator and refilled Mr. Harris’s glass. No doubt, he ran his energy high, and this new situation was making him feel nervous and vulnerable.

“To answer your questions. . .yes, I received all your paperwork from your physician. However, I like to hear my client’s perceptions of their issues. In truth, we don’t really need to have this discussion. I’m tactile and intuitive and it would be easy to discern where you hold your tension. But, I have a holistic approach, and I believe the mind, body, and spirit are all inter-related. If we ignore one area, another has to pick up the slack and starts talking louder. So, yes. I’d like to ask you a few questions so I can have a bit of insight into your whole life. But first, what prompted you to make an appointment with me tonight?”

As Sidney started talking about the mind-body-spirit approach she took, Ian rolled his eyes where he thought she couldn't see him. He didn't realize it, but Sidney could almost feel the walls he started throwing up as tangibly as if they were made out of bricks. He crossed his arms with a stifled sigh and sunk a little lower in his chair before he spoke.

"I was referred to your office by my GP. He seemed to think you could help with my physical ailments with your massage techniques. I made an appointment as soon as one opened at the right time," he stated very matter-of-factly. He sat there, chewing the corner of his mouth before speaking again.

"As for my symptoms, I get muscle tightness up and down my back. I sit at my desk for 8 to 12 hours a day for my job. I'm sure it's just the manifestation of bad ergonomics. I just need some help alleviating that pain while I make corrections to my office set up and daily patterns to make sure I'm stretching enough during the day." He laid it out like he wanted to control this process rather than allow Sidney and her expertise direct things as needed. It didn't seem like a need for control though; he was just taking a narrow view. A physical problem needs a physical solution in his mind. That's how it always worked at his job and through out his life. It made sense to him that it would work in this case.

He sat back and sipped his water, still not looking her in the eye as he waited to see how they would proceed. He bit his lip as he realized how awful he must have just sounded. He kicked himself for being a jerk, but he wanted to make sure that this masseuse was focusing on the problem at hand and not anything more than that. The rest was not her concern.

I nodded in agreement.

“I’m glad your GP has faith in me, but I sense a lot of resistance and doubt on your part. That’s understandable if you’ve been in pain for a while. Yes, your lifestyle- doing anything for 12 hours – without careful attention and stretching intermittently- will be fatiguing. But, your spine also represents your will. On a subconscious level, you have a sense of stubbornness and a desire to control something, instead of having a surrendering and allowing attitude. For the remainder of our session, it might be helpful to practice this art of surrendering and trusting with me. You have nothing to lose, except a sense of control. You are safe with me, here. I can’t force you to want to let go of your physical pain. I know it is hard to fathom, but a lot of people have physical pain because it is easier to deal with than emotional pain.”

I paused, taking a sip of tea, and gauged whether I should proceed with further questions with Mr. Harris. Yes, I think he needed to hear how the whole of his life contributed to his underlying tension.

“Ok, I’m just going to ask a few more questions, and then I’ll explain how I work, and if you don’t have further questions, then we’ll proceed to your massage. Do you feel energized by your work? Are you satisfied with your relationship status and sex life? How much time do you spend outside? Is vigorous or moderate exercise a part of your regular routine? I know these questions sound random, but they help to give me an overall sense of your being, too.”

I shifted my weight and legs, and reached for the clipboard to take a few notes. Normally, I would have spent the time gathering these answers during the massage, intuitively, but somehow I sensed that jumping to body work was not going to be effective. Generally, patients who were “sent” here by their doctors, had a different attitude than patients who made appointments out of their own desire to have a relaxing, healing experience or by word of mouth referral.

Ian leaned forward, his elbow resting on his knee to hold his trunk up. Sitting like this helped alleviate some of the issues in his back so he'd gotten used to it over the last few months. He shook his head slightly as Sidney was trying to link his physical pain to something emotional. But, she had prefaced her comment with noting his need to control. He didn't want to control how this worked, he just wanted to keep Sidney on track. She did seem convinced that working on the whole body-mind-spirit of her clients does help. He didn't try to fight her on that.

Still, he wasn't sold that it was necessary in his case and that became apparent in his responses.

"Do you feel energized by your work?"

"Not at the end of the day. I feel drained actually."

"Are you satisfied with your relationship status and sex life?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"How much time do you spend outside?"

He frowned as he thought of his answer to this question. "Hardly any if I'm honest." He did sound a bit regretful in his answer.

"Is vigorous or moderate exercise a part of your regular routine?"

He sighed. The age-old GP question whenever it came to the weight he'd put on over the last decade. "No, but I spend about 20-30 minutes a day walking around my apartment complex when I get off work. I just need to move after sitting for so long."

He sipped his water as the questions ended. As Sidney shifted her legs, he caught himself staring. It was so hard not to as they were so shapely and tanned. Sidney struck him as the sort that wouldn't wear nylons and he didn't see any on today. He bit his lip as he forced himself to look away, still unable to bring himself to look Sidney in the eyes.

I sighed, squeezing my hands together. I doubted that I was the right therapist for this client. He looked so uncomfortable and sad just being here.

“Well, it sounds like you have a plan for yourself. It’s up to you, ultimately, whether you want to adjust your habits to feel poorly, so-so, or vibrantly healthy,” I said, shrugging. It was clearly futile to make further suggestions to a client who wouldn’t maintain eye contact.

I placed my empty mug back on the coffee table.

“So, for your first visit, I would suggest that you spend about 8 minutes in the whirlpool and just shut your eyes and practice some deep breathing techniques. Really imagine filling the front and back part of your lungs like balloons. Slowly in, and then slowly exhale. And let your body just enjoy the warmth and the buoyancy of the water. If you have any questions or concerns, I can throw on a suit and demonstrate it for you, but I think you can do this. After 8 minutes, the jets will shut off, you can towel off, and choose either a robe or a sheet to wrap around your waist, and we’ll proceed with your massage. I will work to your physical, mental, and emotional comfort level. At the very least, I hope you feel some sense of relaxation when you leave here. Are you still interested in proceeding with your massage? Do you have any further questions?”

Ian nodded futilely to Sidney's comment about him being in control of how he would feel. He'd been told over and over the same thing, but never took it to heart. After all, there was nobody in his life to stay healthy for, so what was the point.

As she explained how things would proceed, he nodded in agreement. Starting off in the hot tub would probably be a good start. It would help him relax and loosen up his back. It was already acting up again as he sat there anyway. The prospect of the massage made him nervous again. Would Sidney really be comfortable working with him when he stripped down? He swallowed his worry down again and stood up, ready to go to the hot tub room.

"I do still feel the need for the massage, but if you want to refer me to someone else after I get out of the hot tub, I understand. I'll see you in about 10 minutes." He said as he looked around the room. "Ummm, which room is the hot tub in?" he asked, still not used to the office yet as it was his first time yet.

Once she pointed him in the right direction, Ian closed the door behind himself. Once he was alone, he stripped down with little trepidation of being naked while he was alone in the room. Sinking into the roiling waters, he sighed out slowly as the temperature was perfect for when he needed a soak. Sitting on one of the seats, he gave himself over to the warm water and the pulsing jets. It was so easy for him to fall asleep in this condition, but Ian remembered that Sidney wanted him focusing on his breathing. Closing his eyes just the same, he began long slow deep breaths. As he did, he tried to understand what she meant by the "front and back of the lungs."

He never made the distinction before; it was just the lungs in his mind. Still, he took each breath in turn and started thinking about how his chest was filling. As he did, he could feel his chest rising, but his back barely moved. Maybe that's what she meant. Maybe he hadn't been filling his lungs as much as he thought. Readjusting in the seat to give his trunk more room, he began to breathe again more evenly. As he did, he felt his whole rib cage, chest and back expanding to accommodate his lungs. Ian opened his eyes as it felt like he had been blasted by a breeze as his lungs filled completely. He focused on the feeling and tried to reach that feeling each time. He was just beginning to realize what his posture had been doing to him when the jets shut off.

Ian frowned at the timing, but felt the same sort of energy in him as he felt when he made an important discovery in his work. He got out of the tub and looked back at it as if looking back at himself from a few minutes ago. Maybe Sidney was as good as his GP said. Despite his feelings regarding her approach, he felt he had to see if she could really help him. The massage would tell him a lot.

Drying off slowly with the provided towels, Ian prepped himself for what was next. The towel wrapped around his waist and hung just past his knee as he found his way to the massage room. Stepping inside, he saw that he'd beaten Sidney to the room. Sitting on the table, he waited, biting his lip as he thought again about what she said and about how he had acted. Still, he was paying for a physical treatment for a physical ailment. Everything else was his problem, not hers. At least, that's what he told himself as he heard the other door open.

After showing Mr. Harris the dressing room, whirlpool, and massage room, I retreated to my own office to change clothes.

I decided to keep it simple, but edgy - cranberry wine push up bra, gunmetal, sleeveless, loosely knit tank over short, white skorts that danced along my upper thigh. I wore my hair up in a loose bun. It wasn’t your typical attire, but I liked to wear comfortable clothing that made me feel sexy. If I didn’t enjoy my body and feel sensual, how would I expect the same of my clients?

“Ah, you found the right door,” I said, jokingly, as I entered my massage room and found Ian waiting, biting his lip, nervously.

“Let’s get you comfortable and settled on the table,” I said, as I unfolded two sheets across the table, and motioned for Mr. Harris to recline.

I tucked a pillow under his knees and made sure he was draped from shoulders to feet. I rested a hand on his hips, to help steady him.

“Ok, just lift your hips, and I’ll slide your damp towel out and we’ll be ready. Was the whirlpool helpful?” I asked, as I spread the massage oils in front of me and began to pour some into my hands and massage it into my arms, testing the temperature and scent for Mr. Harris.

My eyes widen as I look towards the door. There stood Ms. Peters but she was transformed. Gone was the clinical professional and in her place stood an attractive, sexy woman in an outfit that showed me her body with no shame or worry regarding my reaction. I was just too stunned to be honest as she walked in and took control of the room.

I didn't try to stop her as she set up the table. With the most gentle touch, she got me to lay back. My hand tightened instinctively on the towel as I looked up at the lights above. They weren't harsh in their brightness, just warm enough to shed a calming light over the room. It was helping a little until Sidney began spreading sheets over me to cover my body. I swallow my nervousness down, but it doesn't go away.

Her question felt like it was asked from another room, that's how disconnected from the present I felt as the realization of what's coming washed over me. "Uhh, yeah, and I think I understand what you meant by the front and back of my lungs..." I swallow again, still no good.

"Ummm, Ms. Peters, if you want to refer me to another masseuse, I would have no problem with that," I offer, unsure if she wanted to keep working with me once she started putting her hands on me and my out of shape body. I bit my lip as I waited to hear her response. Meanwhile, I still have the ends of the towel in a death grip for fear of letting them go and becoming naked under the sheet.

I smile in amusement that Mr. Harris calls me “Ms. Peters” even after I gave him permission to call me by my first name.

After mixing a blend of essential, aromatic oils to my satisfaction, I shake the bottle with one finger over the tip. Once blended, I place the bottle on my holder.

Starting from Mr. Harris’s head, I make short, sweeping motions as if I am brushing dust off of him. The sides of his head, his forehead, his nose and lips, his throat, the top of his chest, both shoulders, each arm, his abs, his pelvis, thighs, knees, lower legs, and the bottom of his feet. And then finally, I make a few single strokes from the top of his head to his feet, shaking my hands after each stroke. So much fear.

Despite intending to work traditionally, my spirit won’t let me ignore what needs to be done, and I act intuitively.

“I’m going to begin with your face, Mr. Harris. Before I get started are you warm enough? I can place a light blanket over you if you’d like. This is your special time to feel nurtured and relaxed. I love my work and am eager to proceed, but if you have concerns about me then you’re welcome to see someone else. But, if you’re just nervous because this is your first massage with me, then feel free to ask me anything that would put any concerns to rest before we proceed further. We have plenty of time.”

I grip the table under me a little as she works lower on my body. I swallow hard as trepidation runs up and down my body the longer she spends below my shoulders and above my knees. I'm not sure what it is she is looking to accomplish with her opening moves, but I'm not about to stop her. She is the professional after all.

I lean my head into the pillow a little more, a resigned look coming to my face as I hear her comments. I must be tensed up like a piano wire. She must be able to feel it in my whole body, the tension. I have to say something if it's that tangible.

"No, it's not a problem of being too warm or too cold. It's..." I say, unsure how to put it into words. I gather in the sheet a little bit tighter around me, fearing that it's going to fly away suddenly. It was the only thing shielding my body now and it wasn't for my benefit that I held it.

"Are you sure you're comfortable working with me? I mean, if you're uncomfortable touching me or anything, I'd understand and I can look for a different masseuse, like maybe a male masseuse... You don't have to spare my feelings, just be honest if you would rather I not work with you." I offer. I wait, listening to see if this masseuse will take the out I'm offering her. It wouldn't be the first time a woman looked for the back door.

“Mr. Harris, I’ve already explained that I’m comfortable doing my job. But, you are clearly not comfortable with this process and with me. I have no idea why you think I’d be uncomfortable touching you. I think you’re projecting your fears onto me, and you might consider why the idea of me touching you makes you want to grip the sheets and feel anxious. Even after I brushed off your aura and reassured you of your safety.

This is supposed to be a relaxing experience, and if it isn’t, then it probably is best for you to find a therapist with whom you can be at ease. I’m going to give you a few moments to collect your thoughts and feelings, and then just let me know what you decide. It is very rare for me to open up a Friday time slot, and to have a 2 hour slot available, so unfortunately I can only refund you at 50%. I enjoy challenges, but if it feels threatening to receive a massage, then massage may not be the best therapy to help you relax.

You seem to be working hard at having me reject you. Your energy is powerful; and we vibrate in different places. But, at some point, there has to be a alchemy between us, and that will only happen if you are receptive and trusting. Although I love my work, and love to help clients to heal and live vibrant, joyful lives, if someone isn't ready for that, then it is a waste of my energy to try to assist them and I will feel drained, as I'm beginning to feel now.

It's okay if you're not ready for massage. Perhaps we should start with simple breathing and relaxation techniques. There is also hypnosis, cognitive-behavioral therapists; I'm just a wild card who could probably jump-start things, but only if you can allow yourself to receive. To be blunt, my skill set is a combination of my psychology and healing background and is uncategorizable as I use many techniques. You're very analytical, and you don't allow yourself to feel your emotions, so now your body is in pain. It's forcing you to find new ways to heal on all levels. Okay, I'll give you a few moments to decide wha you think will be in your best interest, and I will take a few moments to reflect upon the same thing."

- - - - - -

I step outside of the room, which is something I’ve never done during a massage. In fact, I’m so drained that I go to my office and set the timer for 5 minutes and shut my own eyes and recline on the chaise. Mr. Harris is draining my life force, my joy. His body is probably more tightly wound than it was before he arrived and I’m absorbing his frustrations. For the first time in my career, I hope a client decides on another masseuse. It would probably be for the best for both of us.

Taking some slow deep breaths, I imagine myself with Mark, in Costa Rica. All the sweet, slow, meditative sex that we had outdoors- by waterfalls, in hammocks, on the beach, around a night fire with the other 2 couples watching from a distance. . .curious about how tantric “looked” in action.

By the time the timer went off, I felt rejuvenated and centered back into my own vibrant, joyful being. I’d give Mr. Harris one final chance. God had brought him to me, but I wasn’t going to allow myself to feel ill from work. That wouldn’t be healing for either one of us or good for the rest of my clients.

I padded back to my massage room and opened the door gently and sat down on my stool, rolling it so that I could see Mr. Harris’s face.

“So, how are you feeling Mr. Harris? What do you think would be in your best interest at this time?” I asked, gently.

Left alone in the room, I'm left with my own thoughts. As I lay there, I can't help put replay the events since I arrived at Ms. Peters office tonight. I can only wince at my behavior and how much of a jerk I have been to this point. She's right; I am incredibly lucky that she had this time open for me. I don't think I truly appreciated how lucky I was to get this time slot tonight. I bite my lip as I replay her words in my head from just before she left.

Of course she would have no problem working on my body. She's a professional masseuse. It doesn't matter to her the shape I'm in, I tell myself finally. I shake my head as I lay there, realizing how stupid I was being. Even if I don't believe in some of the techniques she shared, she does and maybe that's enough to help me. I sigh as I lay there, kicking myself until the five minutes are up. When Sidney walks back in, I just lay there until I see her face hover into view above me.

"You're right, Ms. Peters... Sidney. I suppose I was looking for rejection when I saw you walk in. My worry is that my body is off-putting to such a beautiful woman such as yourself and I wanted to reject you before you could reject me. I'm sorry I put my baggage on you; you didn't deserve that sort of response." I say, swallowing hard.

"I do want to get better. But we just met and I don't know how much I'm willing to share about myself yet. I hope that's okay for now." I say, looking into her eyes for her reaction.

"Could... could we dim the lights and start our session again? I think I'd be more comfortable if the room is dark." I ask, hoping Sidney will give me another chance. My doctor sent me to her for a reason. I wouldn't be here if he didn't think Sidney could help me. "Please, I do want to get better." I add, repeating myself.

Finally, a “Sidney”.

“Well, I appreciate the compliment, thank you. I am blessed, and am very comfortable in my body and I try to role-model that for my clients. I know you came here for a massage, but often when I work on someone’s body, I can sense. . . everything. . . whether I mention it or not. I will mention things as I feel guided to do, while also being cognizant of your desire for privacy. You can open up verbally or not. But, most importantly, I hope your spirit is open to the massage and whatever I have to say to you. Let the new perspective in for a few seconds before you reject an idea. I’m just going to bring things to your awareness, and it’s up to you to expand or contract. But, I’ll be as gentle as I can with you.”

I could feel my body beginning to heat up as I felt my own personal power returning. I was not going to dim my inner light because it was too bright for my client. He had just taught me an important lesson. I do not have to heal everyone nor should I, who enters my door.

“Yes, of course we can turn off the lights. I would like to light a few candles, for a variety of reasons, but I’ll do the bare minimum, all right?”

I lit about 4 vanilla votives and placed them evenly around the room. I turned on my favorite new age music for chakra balancing and let the soft electronica permeate through my own being before I studied my client.

I could sense that he really did want help, but I was going to need to take things very slowly. And eventually, I’d have to address the issue of self-love if we continued with further sessions.

But, for now, I kept things simple. We were still working on trust.

“Would you prefer that I work in complete silence, or would you like some gentle guidance and feedback as I work on you?” I asked quietly, as I settled on my stool near the head of the table.

“I generally prefer to remain quiet, unless the client wants to talk during their massage, and only speak if I find something compelling to share.”

I nodded as Sidney communicated how her practice worked and that I needed to be open to massage. As the room darkened, I could pick up notes of vanilla in the air around me. Vanilla brought back strong memories of home and family, or making ice cream on the back porch in the summer when I was little. There was no way that Sidney could have known that, but it was curious that she would choose such a familiar fragrance for me. Then again, vanilla was a well-known scent for candles; maybe that's all it was.

Still, as my thoughts drifted to familiar days and faces, I felt myself sinking into the padded table beneath me. As I did, I folded the sheet down to my waist as I let my arms relax too. I stayed in that scent, thinking back to all the times I used to smell it and how safe it made me feel. I opened my eyes again to see Sidney's attractive face hovering over mine. I managed a soft smile for her as I felt my body unclenching from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. "This is much better; thank you." I say softly as she begins to talk about what's to come.

"I would very much like to hear your insight as you discover things. I will try to be receptive to what you have to say. I did not listen earlier as I expected a bit more clinical approach when I chose your clinic. I'm still learning how you work so forgive my reactions if I haven't quite tamped down my incredulity." I explain in response to her question.

"It's not a slight to you or your practice; I never thought there would be more to my pain than bad posture or something physical. I also didn't want to break the professional distance I'm sure you have to keep as a medical health care provider by unloading everything on your lap." I take a long slow breath as I feel my body relaxing as the lights, the sounds, the smells are all bent towards helping me relax. "I'm sorry if I'm rambling. I'll shut up and let you work." I say as I close my eyes again.

I smile as Mr. Harris shuts his eyes, still analyzing how I work, how to handle me, how to protect himself, focused on societal norms.

“I’m going to rebalance and assess you, and then I’ll see where I’m drawn, although I think I’ll start with your face and shoulders.”

I lightly touch each side of his head, and then cover his ears, down to his jaw, then neck. Then, one hand moves to his sternum. Then, the left hand moves to the sternum, while the right glides over each arm. I work my way down Ian’s body. I can feel his body tense as I glide my hands lightly over his chest. I pause, holding my right hand over his sternum. Definitely a contraction of energy.

My palm moves over the sheet to his abdomen and pelvis, which tense under my touch. It’s his first massage, so I’m not surprised. I note a hyper energy in his stomach region. His legs, in particular, do not have the life that I would expect in them. He probably needs a lot more exercise than he is getting; but this is not the time for suggestions.

Already, I can feel his body talking to me, even through his nervousness, and I silently thank the Universe. Finally, some alchemy.

“Great, Mr. Harris,” I say encouragingly, as I settle into my chair over his head.

I drop a bit of the mixed blend of oils- almond, rosemary, eucalyptus, amber – into my palm and begin to lightly massage the oil into his temples and then around his entire head.

“Your talking doesn’t bother me, but we’ll also have an opportunity to re-cap at the end of your massage. Everyone has different goals and I cater my therapy to the unique needs of my clients. I’m not disagreeing that your problem is physical. . .and that by changing your posture and work environment, things will improve. I just don’t think that is the only factor in your tension. But, let’s both stay present for now.”

I move to his side for a moment, placing my palms over his eyes, and gently press around his eye socket.

“Don’t move your eyes, let my hands do all the work,” I whisper. “The computer work is causing eye strain and you don’t even realize it. If what I’m doing feels tender, you should probably take a few breaks and do the same thing that I’m doing a few times each day.”

I try to do as she asks. I really try to give myself over to her, but feeling her hand on my chest makes me nervous as I can't quite figure out why she's just laying it there as her other hand works on my arms. It happens again when her hand nears my hips and crotch area. I know she knows that I'm naked under the sheet, but she seems to be getting a little too close. My natural reaction to pull away is overpowered momentarily as I tell myself she won't be there for long, but it also means that I just lock up as I wait for her to be done in that area.

Breathing the vanilla in deep as she moves on, I feel myself relaxing again. That scent really helps return me to calm when nervousness takes me. I hope she keeps using it through out my visits. It might be a real help going forward.

Then, I feel her warm hands, oiled just enough for her fingertips to glide on my skin. The pressure on my temples hurts a little at first, but as her fingers spread, I feel my brow relax. I didn't even realize it was tensed. 'What else am I keeping tense?' I think as I lay there, feeling her hands begin to work on me.

I'm a little worried as her hands press to my eyes. I didn't think that was an area that took massage, but as she pressed, I could feel how sore and tender the muscles around my eyes really were. I gasp softly through my teeth and sigh out a long "Ahhhhh..." as I feel an aching pain around my eyes, but as Sidney continues, it's not so bad.

"So, press the heels of my hands into the rim around my eyes?" I ask, trying to make sure I'm feeling the technique correctly as I have a feeling this will be one that I need to use in the future. "Is that more for temporary relief? Or something I'll have to do to offset my work during the day?" I continue, wanting to know how much I'm damaging my own body by simply doing my work.

“Yes, you can use your own palms as I’m doing now, or prop your elbows on your desk with your palms up and rest your eyes against them and adjust the pressure to ease the tension. You should probably integrate this into your work stretching routine if you’re not habitually changing your gaze every few minutes. I think the more you’re aware of your tension, the more likely you will be to consciously change your routine."

After Ian sighs and vocalizes the release of tension, I return to the end of the table and cup his head in my hand, using my thumbs to massage his jaw.

“Please feel free to do what you just did. . . sigh, gasp, moan, communicate verbally. . . if it helps you let go. Being silent is fine, too, but if something is too much, let me know versus tensing your body in response. You’re doing great, Mr. Harris.”

I paused, nestling my chest close to Mr. Harris’s head. I lightly massaged all around his cranium and then along the tiny vertebrae in his neck, gently rolling his neck to the right and then left, before returning it to the center. I avoid his ears- I sense that would be more than he could bear.

“Don’t be surprised if that made you a little light-headed. I’m going to remain still for a moment, until I feel that your energy has rebalanced. Just let your head rest fully in my hands and try taking a few deep inhales and exhales. That will help. Do it with me.”

I begin to inhale and watch for Ian’s chest to rise.

As she explains about rubbing around my eyes I nod slightly to indicate I understand. 'Another thing to add to the list...' I think as I lay there. Her thumbs move to my jaw hinge next as my head is cradled by her hands beneath me and her breasts a top my head?! I swallow hard as I realize where my head lays, hoping she realizes what she's doing. I take a few breaths to calm myself back down, but it's harder than I think as they feel like the right combination of firm and yielding that I like. I curse at myself for breaking my own rule about professional distance as I try to focus on the work she is doing.

My dentist found I was grinding my teeth at night so I wear a guard at night. As Sidney works my jaw I feel like she's popping little bundles of nerves right at the joint. Each one is like cracking a knuckle with the endorphin release that follows. I had no idea that it was so jacked up, but slowly, things were getting better. As she moves on, I take a moment to breathe deep and open my mouth wide a few times to feel how my adjusted jaw feels.

Twisting his head to the side, it felt like his neck felt like popping bubble wrap. He swore that she was doing chiropractic adjustment, not a massage as she turned his head to the other side with the same result. As my head turns back to level, I swear I see stars in my eyes. I blink them and take a few breaths before sighing out "Whoa..."

Swallowing and nodding as I hear Sidney's words, I start to breathe. My head is still swimming a little and I take long slow breaths, trying to clear it.

"Did not expect that..." I groan, blinking my eyes again.

I can see waves of energy rippling outward from Ian’s 6th and 7th chakra. With each of his breaths, a greater force of energy releases.

“Wonderful, you just relaxed and let go of a lot of stagnant energy, Mr. Harris. You should continue to relax and release as I move forward to other areas.”

I hooked Mr. Harris’s arm around my waist while I used Swedish techniques on his right arm. Energy exchange was integral to my healing work. It was the unconscious reason why people sought me out, and why the massages were so effective. My body was healthy and vibrant and it helped to calibrate my client’s to vibrate on the same higher level.

Finally, I held Mr. Harris’s hand in my left palm and massaged all of the small tendons and pressed on his acupuncture points before releasing it gently to his side. I made a mental note to share some self-massage techniques for his hands during our recap. He had a strong grip on control and it was obvious in his hands. Still, I could see more energy moving into his hand once they were out of my physical contact.

“Massage can be both relaxing and stimulating for both male and female clients. Please don’t be concerned or self-conscious if something I do makes you feel aroused and sexually stimulated. It’s a positive sign of more life force being absorbed, actually. However, if you feel uncomfortable with your level of arousal and it is distracting, just let me know and I can either shift my techniques or allow you a few private moments to release the sexual tension. We’re all one big sensory organ, so none of this is unnatural or surprising. What’s unnatural is to suppress your energy. ..that’s what results in all sorts of tensions and issues. But, you’re doing very well, Mr. Harris. I’m going to finish on your other arm, and then we’ll open up your chest.”

I'm not sure what Sidney was doing as she worked on my hand. Each press was very deliberate as had all of her movements been throughout our session. Once again, I hadn't realized what damage I was doing to my hands until Sidney began to work on them, like so many other parts of my body so far. Showing me that I was clenching so much throughout my body had brought me to a new level of relaxation below where I thought I was relaxed.

As she worked, I felt my hand around behind her lay flat against the small of her back. I honestly don't remember when I did it, but I only became aware of it as she wrapped up with my free hand. As I lay there, I tried to work backwards in my head and I could only arrive at the conclusion that I just wanted to hold something. So much of my life lacked physical contact with someone else. WHen I finally got the opportunity, my body finally got a taste of what it had been missing. I didn't pull hard, just kept my hand in place at the small of her back.

I look up into Sidney's trusting face and manage a smile as she switches to that hand. As she works on it in the same fashion as the first, I take another long deep breath. My breathing had slowed as my relaxation deepened, but as she began speaking of sexual stimulation, I felt the nervousness creep back in. "Ummm, but we're here for a medical procedure... I... we should stay focused on that." That was not to say that Sidney didn't turn me on. Quite the contrary, Sidney was the most beautiful woman I'd spent more than 5 minutes with. But to hear her be so frank about sex during our first visit, it felt... wrong? Or did it? I lay my head back and stop trying to think about it and rather trust her expertise. But I was thrown by it probably more than I should be.

I continue using long, sweeping pressure on Mr. Harris’s left arm, tugging gently at his shoulder joint until his arm feels limp in my grasp.

“Mr. Harris, I’m very focused; I assure you. We’re here because we both decided to dedicate two hours on a Friday night to help you feel more relaxed. We both decided to trust each other and ourselves. Does the idea of trusting someone, even if they could help you, fill you with anxiety? You don’t need to answer me, but that’s something you should reflect upon. I would suggest that as an experiment, for the next hour and a half, you just practice being open and receptive and relax your mind. That’s all.”

I splayed Ian’s fingers and used my thumbs to knead his palm. His forearm looked slightly larger on the left so I had spent more time massaging along his meridian and acupressure points.

As I massaged his arms, it occurred to me that an hour of trigger point therapy would probably benefit Ian. It would be painful, but probably less threatening to his emotional body. I made a mental note to discuss it on follow-up visits, if he decided to return.

I found it amusing that Ian wanted to box me in with a clinical title. I was so used to people being on my table because they wanted to. . . and by being quietly referred to by discrete clients. Massage was the language, but that was just the tip of the iceberg of my skills and methods as it related to personal healing and transformation.

I really wanted to give over to what Sidney was doing, but I just met this woman. In fact, I'd only met her not even an hour ago! I know that my GP assured me that Sidney could help, but she is still a person I barely knew. I bit my lip a little, not wanting to ruin the calming atmosphere, but I couldn't lie there and not explain himself or justify my trepidation.

"It is only causing anxiety because our working relationship is so new. I... don't want to break any rules of doctor-patient etiquette and provide you with information you don't need." I paused, hoping that was a good enough explanation. In actuality, I didn't open up because usually that's when people got uncomfortable. People in day to day conversations try to keep things light; no one wants the real answer to "How are you?" They didn't want to hear "I'm wallowing in crushing isolation and the onset of depression over my self-worth! How are you?" No, people jsut want to smile and laugh and relax.

I'm not sure why, but I felt my fist clenching as Sidney worked on my forearm. Did it do that because of what I was thinking as I lay there? I looked up, curious what she would say as it happened. Since she wasn't working on the first hand, I slid it back around her again, letting it rest on the small of her back, just under where her top ended. Her skin felt so good, so smooth and soft, but her long toned muscles just under the surface showed how much she cared for her body in every way.

'God, it feels good to just touch and be touched by someone...' I thought as I lay there. As I did, my hand opened up again. I closed my eyes and slowly slid my hand on her bare back. I had no other agenda. I wasn't trying to get her into bed with me. I know I shouldn't break that contract between caregiver and patient, but it felt so good when she put it there before. I wanted more. I was a hedonist for skin to skin touch. I smiled to myself as I lay there, finding it all a bit funny.

As Ian spoke about doctor-patient etiquette and not wanting to give more information than I needed, I could see his fist clench as if he was trying to bottle up all his feelings. But, soon his fist relaxed again, as I continued the Swedish massage techniques and let his fears waft through the air for a few moments. He opened his eyes, and I sensed that even he didn’t believe his story anymore.

Slowly, his free hand wrapped itself around my waist. Ordinarily, I didn’t permit clients to touch me without asking first, but in this case, I knew it was a topic that we could discuss later. Mr. Harris desperately needed some sense of connection, with his body, with his truest feelings and fears, with another human. Anxiety was hard on the body. But, for today, he needed a sense of safety and nurturance, and his hand rested around my waist a symbol of his desire for connection. I took it as a promising sign.

I always trusted people’s body language over their words. Their bodies never lied.

As I finished up with Ian’s left hand, I gently took both of his hands into my own as I mounted my table and crouched with one leg around each side of Ian’s waist.

“Mr. Harris, you really don’t even need to speak; your body tells me everything. But, I find it’s much more effective to go beyond the physical to the root of your tension. Massage is the method, but healing and freedom is the goal. I don’t have clients in my office every week. Usually, after the first few sessions, they just have monthly or bi-monthly maintenance visits as life is ever-changing and may present new challenges to our psyches and bodies. The more you allow yourself to be vulnerable, the deeper we can work. And of course, you can choose to trust me on your time schedule. If we’re not a good fit, you will know by how you feel at the end of our session. But, to me, it appears as if you are just now beginning to relax a bit.”

I moved Ian’s hands underneath my shirt and wrapped them around the back of my ribs.

“Okay, I want to make sure you know how deeply that I’d like you to breathe when you take breaks each hour. I’d like you to open your eyes and focus on how fully I can push against my back ribs. And then, I’ll move your hands to the front of my ribs and do the same. This will help oxygenate your tense muscles and calm your nervous system.”