Sounds crazy, I know, but a few months ago, I began opening myself up to the possibility that certain objects can give off an energy. I never knew much about blue topaz before - other than I was dying to have it as my stone of choice for an engagement ring, not to mention that It was also my birth stone.
Little did I know that when I picked up my first raw, unmanufactured, blue topaz stone - I was actually holding an energetic element known as...
After picking up a couple of these clearer looking gems, I was off to find a long, overdue option for a deep tissue massage.
Looking at the menu that stood over the cash register where I just purchased my birth stones, I saw the option:
PSYCHIC READING DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE
True, it did seem a little too "hocus pocus" for my taste, but a curiosity took over when my mind flashed back to a time Andrew and I were at the pool in our apartment building where I struck up a conversation with a new neighbor who happened to be a professional Psychic Reader. When we shook hands, she picked up on some vibes...
”You think you were forced here...you’re not. You were sent here to find yourself.. You will not only become yourself, you will become a higher version of yourself...and then you will part ways with this place for another big move before you return to New York.”
Yes, it was true, I didn’t want to move to Arizona and felt that leaving NYC was throwing me off my course. So what she said, I had to consider given that at that time I was going back through my short stories I wrote in NYC but never did anything with them and decided to submit them to publishing houses....A first for me that didn’t involve NYC and perhaps the first step of becoming a “higher version of myself.”
Now here I stood looking at the PSYCHIC READING DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE...
Okay, why not try an unknown.
I arrived eight minutes early, fresh from the Boynton Vortex It was odd sitting across the psychic from the massage table...I thought she was supposed to read my mind. Nope. She wanted to know what brought me in today. Well that’s, simple: I never did anything like this before! She asked about my life, I kept it pretty vague.
Miss New York City
Determined to make things happen within my creative realm
There you have it!
She begins to tell me about her whole process of massaging me and responding only to the energy my muscles will give off:
Now the first step, I think we can acknowledge is the ability to let go of the past.
Well, no, not exactly what I wanted, but okay, I’ll go with it.
She runs her warm oily hands along the upper part of my back (the place where I hold the most tension.)
Letting go...of the past.
Nope, the opposite happens.
I found myself walking around my old neighborhood in Manhattan’s Upper West Side. I’m at the corner of W.106th Street near the old Duane Reade Pharmacy as I start to walk toward The Ellington...my favorite restaurant...and I see Fermine (my favorite server). He serves me my usual huevos rancheros Sunday brunch. I’m suddenly transported to Riverside Park as I make my way to the church. I’m bundled up, trying to stay warm and I make a sharp turn onto West 110th Street, back towards Broadway. The Christmas tree lot near our apartment stood in its normal place.
I started to weep. I’m back in our kitchen on the coldest winter day when I made homemade hot chocolate while our stew would be brewing over a hot gas stove.
This truth wants to come out.
She presses down on my shoulders, rolling her thumbs around my shoulder blades and all the Christmas lights, the holiday music, the snowflake lights at Columbus Circle, flashed in front of me.
The weeping turned into wailing. Vocalizing every memory through every tear drop that slammed into the floor. For a moment, I swore a huge chunk of snot landed on her sandal and onto her big right toe.
You carry your creative energy all along the right side of your spine
Then she spread her warm oily hands in opposition as if to flatten my upper back like a piece of bread dough. Not exactly a normal custom to what I’m used to in a deep tissue massage, but it felt good anyway. I felt myself start to relax as my shoulders began to spread apart.
Yes, making space for new ideas, new beginnings.
I feel more relaxed, but if you could press down on my shoulders again, that would be great. this is supposed to be a deep tissue massage after all...
Her hands suddenly make their way down to my lower back right in between my hips.
May you feel rooted wherever you go.
She rubs her hands down my legs. Okay, this feels good, but my shoulders need more attention! She draws her fingers down past my ankles and directly onto the bottom of my feet. She presses hard at the center part just right below my index toe. An immediate vision comes to me. A not so great one. I see someone whom I detested for as long as I have known her in NYC.
Although her pretentious smile still crinkled her cheekbones resting below her thick, black framed, glasses (a sight that once irritated me the most)...Now...
I can’t remember the last time I gave a shit about her...
This too shall pass.
Um...okay. It already did...so...
Now you can turn over.
Thus is BULLSHIT! This whole thing is complete bullshit. My shoulders! Can’t you see that’s where I hold all of my tension?!!
With my unvocalized thoughts in tow, I reluctantly turn over. She places a cold press on my eyes and long thin strips of it along my clavicle. This actually feels really nice. Her oily hands create the same spreading motion along my chest below the cold compress - almost mirroring the same movement she did to my shoulder blades.
Your heart. Your heart is bursting with potential.
She stops the spreading motion and presses down to the center of my chest.
She continues the spreading motion. I breathe deep...but not sure what this is suppose to do.
Your heart is jumping out of your chest. Breathe slowly...slowly.
Don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m breathing...
Your heart has no patience.
If I weren’t so focused on breathing, I would have laughed out loud.
She grabs my right arm and begins to elongate it, providing pressure to my shoulder blade. I start to sink into a trance. I can’t move, but I know what’s going on. My body feels still as if it were floating. Her hands make their way into my hand and she presses her fingers gently into my palm. She gently places it onto my heart and the sensation continues of diving deeper into a state of hypnotic stillness. She does the same thing to my left arm, but places my left hand near my hip. She leaves the room. The massage is over and I slip into an actual deep sleep. I knew it only lasted for a couple of minutes as she re-entered with a cup of water, but it was still a moment of rest I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before.
It took her three times to knock on the door before I was able to crawl off the massage table and put my clothes on.
I stepped out of the room to see Andrew looking at me, asking me how it was. “It was interesting”, I told him. I don’t know what I was feeling. Then he took his hands and pressed them into my back, “Oh, wow! It feels different.” Later on, he told me that it felt like there was ”more space“ within me.
24 Hours Later
I reflect back on this “interesting experience“ and say that it was not the deep tissue massage I was hoping for. However, what I was internalizing made this experience healthier for me than seeing a therapist. Every time I saw a therapist, there was always critical thinking that fueled solutions toward better managing my emotions. In this case, I was able to stop thinking and just let them be - which ultimately gave me a way to process how much I miss New York and acknowledge my anxiety from it: No judgement. No need to change me.
As for the need for a deep tissue massage: Yes, I’ll still probably inquire about a traditional one, soo