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Loved, and cared about, and beautiful
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 Created on 10-30-07
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My job is to touch bodies. Sounds weird... but, thats the career I've chosen, a career that I love, and one that gives me joy because I give people physical relief and make them feel physically good, everyday. But something that happened today made me stop and think, and then realize... I can help my clients so much more sometimes. I can give them relief and make them feel good on a level far past the physical. I can touch them in a totally different way.
Today I had a new client. She was my last client, so she came in at a time when I was exhausted, and not really wanting to do another massage. To tell you the truth, I was half-way hoping that she wouldn't show up. But, she did, and I probably sighed obnoxiously when Brooke (the receptionist) came to tell me that she was there. I walked into the "Serenity Room", a.k.a the cozy little room where we put clients who are waiting on either the massage therapist (me) or the esthetician, introduced myself, and handed her the intake form to fill out. As she filled it out, I noticed two things about her: she was very beautiful, and she was very overweight.
She finished filling out the form, and handed it back to me, smiling softly. I led her into the massage room, and started to explain to her what to do (she had never had a massage before). She looked horrified when I instructed her to remove her clothing, and blushed as she asked if her underwear could stay on. Her voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of offending someone by speaking, as though I would yell at her or maybe even hit her. I gave her my most reassuring smile, and left the room.
When I came back in, she was lying on the table, covered in the sheet from the chin down, with her forearms crossed over her chest, looking very nervous and uncomfortable. As I started the massage, I felt every muscle in her body tense up, but I continued to lightly effleurage (a long, sweeping stroke used to either introduce a client to your touch or spread oil) her face and neck, and soon I felt her relax, let her guard down a little. I continued through the moves of the massage, until about half-way through I heard a soft sniffle, and looked up at her face to make sure she didn't need a tissue, and to check her expression to see if I was hurting her. What I saw was... tears.
My immediate reaction was to stop the move I was doing at the moment, to ask if I had hurt her, to see what was wrong. She just shook her head no, that she wasn't hurt, and so I continued on with the massage. I looked up occasionaly through out the rest of it to see silent tears streaking down her cheeks, tears that she didn't bother to wipe away.
I felt... sad, that this woman so obviously was in some kind of pain. I felt like maybe I had done something to bring about her tears, reminded her of something... and so I started to pray for her, a near to total stranger, someone that I knew nothing about except that she had lower back pain and wore contact lenses.
It was a simple prayer, one that I felt almost stupid offering up, ackward speaking to my God about this woman that I knew nothing of. "God, lift this woman up, give her relief from her pain, stress, and problems, give me the power to help her body, mind and spirit." I repeated it, silently, like a mantra to myself and God. I almost started crying myself.
The massage was soon over, and, as I always do, I put my hand on her back and told her that she could lie there for awhile, to stretch or just to wake herself up. Usually, people just say, "Okay, thank you", and I leave the room. This woman raised her face out of the face cradle to look at me, with her tears still staining her cheeks, and asked if she could talk to me for a second. I said yes, and sat down on my stool at the front of the table. She was quiet for a moment, probably thinking of what she wanted to say, maybe not knowing where she had gotten the idea to say anything at all.
"Nobody has ever touched me like that before," she said, finally, " Like I'm loved and cared about and beautiful. Thank you so much for giving me this experience."
Well, what do you say to that? I smiled and said, "You're welcome, and thank you too."
Later, when I started to analyze this whole thing, I realized that God had answered what I thought of as my 'silly little prayer'. He had let me help this woman...emotionally, psychologically, physically, and maybe even spiritually. For the first time I felt like I was really meant to be doing what I was doing, instead of just doing it because I like it.
I think God made me the way that I am partly because I'm meant to do what I'm doing. He made me accepting, unshockable, open-minded, loving, caring, and...above all else, he gave me the ability to see the beauty in each person that I meet. The physical beauty, and that other kind of beauty... the kind that shines from the inside.
Why can't we all look at each other and see our real physical beauty, the beauty that each and every person has because God created us to be beautiful? Why can't we look at each other and see even farther than that, to that special beauty that we each have in a different way?
Why can't we make each other see this beauty in ourselves, so that we can stop hating our bodies, stop trying to be cooler, stop worrying about what others think, stop trying to make ourselves into some ideal that doesn't really exist. Why can't we all make each other feel loved, and cared about, and beautiful?
Today I had a new client. She was my last client, so she came in at a time when I was exhausted, and not really wanting to do another massage. To tell you the truth, I was half-way hoping that she wouldn't show up. But, she did, and I probably sighed obnoxiously when Brooke (the receptionist) came to tell me that she was there. I walked into the "Serenity Room", a.k.a the cozy little room where we put clients who are waiting on either the massage therapist (me) or the esthetician, introduced myself, and handed her the intake form to fill out. As she filled it out, I noticed two things about her: she was very beautiful, and she was very overweight.
She finished filling out the form, and handed it back to me, smiling softly. I led her into the massage room, and started to explain to her what to do (she had never had a massage before). She looked horrified when I instructed her to remove her clothing, and blushed as she asked if her underwear could stay on. Her voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of offending someone by speaking, as though I would yell at her or maybe even hit her. I gave her my most reassuring smile, and left the room.
When I came back in, she was lying on the table, covered in the sheet from the chin down, with her forearms crossed over her chest, looking very nervous and uncomfortable. As I started the massage, I felt every muscle in her body tense up, but I continued to lightly effleurage (a long, sweeping stroke used to either introduce a client to your touch or spread oil) her face and neck, and soon I felt her relax, let her guard down a little. I continued through the moves of the massage, until about half-way through I heard a soft sniffle, and looked up at her face to make sure she didn't need a tissue, and to check her expression to see if I was hurting her. What I saw was... tears.
My immediate reaction was to stop the move I was doing at the moment, to ask if I had hurt her, to see what was wrong. She just shook her head no, that she wasn't hurt, and so I continued on with the massage. I looked up occasionaly through out the rest of it to see silent tears streaking down her cheeks, tears that she didn't bother to wipe away.
I felt... sad, that this woman so obviously was in some kind of pain. I felt like maybe I had done something to bring about her tears, reminded her of something... and so I started to pray for her, a near to total stranger, someone that I knew nothing about except that she had lower back pain and wore contact lenses.
It was a simple prayer, one that I felt almost stupid offering up, ackward speaking to my God about this woman that I knew nothing of. "God, lift this woman up, give her relief from her pain, stress, and problems, give me the power to help her body, mind and spirit." I repeated it, silently, like a mantra to myself and God. I almost started crying myself.
The massage was soon over, and, as I always do, I put my hand on her back and told her that she could lie there for awhile, to stretch or just to wake herself up. Usually, people just say, "Okay, thank you", and I leave the room. This woman raised her face out of the face cradle to look at me, with her tears still staining her cheeks, and asked if she could talk to me for a second. I said yes, and sat down on my stool at the front of the table. She was quiet for a moment, probably thinking of what she wanted to say, maybe not knowing where she had gotten the idea to say anything at all.
"Nobody has ever touched me like that before," she said, finally, " Like I'm loved and cared about and beautiful. Thank you so much for giving me this experience."
Well, what do you say to that? I smiled and said, "You're welcome, and thank you too."
Later, when I started to analyze this whole thing, I realized that God had answered what I thought of as my 'silly little prayer'. He had let me help this woman...emotionally, psychologically, physically, and maybe even spiritually. For the first time I felt like I was really meant to be doing what I was doing, instead of just doing it because I like it.
I think God made me the way that I am partly because I'm meant to do what I'm doing. He made me accepting, unshockable, open-minded, loving, caring, and...above all else, he gave me the ability to see the beauty in each person that I meet. The physical beauty, and that other kind of beauty... the kind that shines from the inside.
Why can't we all look at each other and see our real physical beauty, the beauty that each and every person has because God created us to be beautiful? Why can't we look at each other and see even farther than that, to that special beauty that we each have in a different way?
Why can't we make each other see this beauty in ourselves, so that we can stop hating our bodies, stop trying to be cooler, stop worrying about what others think, stop trying to make ourselves into some ideal that doesn't really exist. Why can't we all make each other feel loved, and cared about, and beautiful?
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