Kneading A Massage

I recently had my year-end, long overdue massage at East Side Massage. I know some individuals who don’t like massages because they feel uncomfortable and don’t like to be touched. However, for me, if done right they are fabulous.

When trying to relax with my eyes closed, I find my mind racing with random thoughts. One reoccurring thought I have each time I get a massage is “Do massage therapists make good bakers?” I feel like a piece of dough being kneaded and think if they can knead my skin that well, then they surely can knead dough.

When the tension releases from my neck, shoulders and upper back and the knots pop, I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. It’s as if a ghost of tension is rising out of my body like smoke rising into the air. My back muscles are so tense, they are like a taut guitar string being plucked by the massage therapist’s strong hands.  I am surprised how precise she is and how deep she can get into my muscles essentially bypassing everything in between. My mind visualizes the musculoskeletal system model from science class. Breathing through the pain, I unwind and ease into relaxation.

In almost a twilight like state I feel relaxed and then I find myself trying to identify which body part the massage therapist is using. Is it her elbow or her arm between her wrist and her elbow that is rolling down my back like a rolling pin?  I briefly giggle to myself remembering the Friends episode where Ross gives Phoebe’s client, an older man, a massage using wooden spoons and Tonka trucks. It really doesn’t matter what body part is being used because my stress is successfully being released.

By the end of the massage I’m so relaxed that my mind has stopped racing. My body feels like a mound of jello and I ask the massage therapist if I can stay there all day.  Politely, she thanks me and lets me know the hour is up. As I leave the massage table disoriented and sleepy with hair that my husband refers to as Nick Nolte like, I am in a zen like state and wonder how long the feeling will last. I’m not sure going to Quentin Tarantino’s Django Unchained movie right after is the best choice. I look forward to my next massage, which I hope will be sooner then December.

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